Lex did not tolerate inconvenience.

Not in business. Not in logistics. And certainly not in his personal life.

Which was why the problem had been… irritating.

A discontinued product. Supply chain failure. Market withdrawal due to “declining demand.”

He had listened to the explanation once. Then again. Then dismissed it entirely.

Because none of that mattered.

She stood in the living room, holding the empty pack like it was a minor tragedy, explaining—again—that her brand was gone. Everywhere. No restocks. No alternatives that tasted the same.

Lex had said nothing at the time.

Just nodded once.

Left the room.

Three days later—

He stepped back into the apartment, setting a sleek black case on the table with quiet precision. No announcement. No theatrics.

Just the solution.

“They’re back in production,” he said calmly.

A pause.

He adjusted his cuff, like this was a routine update in a board meeting.

“I acquired the company,” he added.

Another pause.

His gaze flicked briefly to the case, then back to her.

“Supply issues resolved. Distribution reinstated. You won’t run out again.”

He straightened slightly, expression composed, as if this had been the most reasonable course of action available.

“…It was inefficient to let it stay discontinued.”