Noah let out a low whistle, still filming as he peered up at the attic hatch.
"Alright, Latham, we found a lost jazz archive and enough paintings to fund a small country in the basement." He smirked. "So what's in your attic?"
"If my memory serves me right—my stuff, gifts from family." He tilted his head. "Vivian always had a habit of making sure I left with something when she bought big pieces."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "You think she stashed some gems up there?"
Lex smirked. "Only one way to find out."
Jason flipped him off. "Get your ass up the ladder already."
Lex climbed first, pushing open the old wooden hatch. The air smelled of cedar, aged paper, and time itself. Sunlight filtered through a small round window, illuminating the dust-speckled air.
Stacks of old crates, cloth-covered frames, and dusty boxes were packed tightly together.
Lex stepped inside, his boots making the wood creak beneath him. Noah followed, camera rolling, scanning the forgotten relics of Lex's childhood.
Lex reached out, pulling a sheet off one of the frames. Beneath it sat a small abstract painting—harsh brush strokes, deep blacks slashed across burning oranges.
He froze.
He knew this piece.
Noah zoomed in. "What is it?"
Lex's fingers brushed the edge of the canvas. "A companion piece. The larger one hangs in The Maddox Gallery."
Noah's eyebrows shot up. "Wait. So this is part of a museum piece?"
Lex exhaled. "Vivian used to buy major works, but she always made sure I left with something smaller—sketches, companion pieces, miniatures. At the time, I thought she was just humoring me." His lips pressed into a smirk. "Now, I'm not so sure."
Noah adjusted the camera angle, panning across rows of crates. "Jesus. How many of these are from her?"
Lex stepped forward, wiping dust off another box. The label was faded, but he recognized the handwriting. Vivian's.
Jason's voice yelled up from below. "Yo, what's up there?!"
Lex smirked, glancing at Noah.
"Looks like my inheritance is bigger than I thought."
Lex climbed down the attic ladder, brushing dust off his sleeves, his mind already three steps ahead. If Vivian had left him with companion pieces to museum-grade art, he needed a professional verification—fast.
Noah was still filming, shaking his head. "Latham, you realize what you just found, right? This ain't just rich-people decor. This is a lost archive."
Lex smirked. "Then let's get the right guy to confirm that."
He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his private contacts. His fingers hovered for a moment before tapping Jonathan Pierce's number.
Jonathan Pierce was Maddox Gallery's Chief Appraiser
The phone rang twice before a smooth, cultured voice answered.
"Lexington Latham. I had a feeling I'd be hearing from you sooner rather than later."
Lex smirked. "Jonathan. Still reading my mind, I see."
"Hardly," Jonathan drawled. "I just know you well enough to assume you wouldn't let valuable art sit untouched for long."
Lex exhaled. "You have no idea."
Jonathan chuckled. "Let me guess. You've come across a few forgotten pieces from the Maddox estate?"
Lex glanced at the attic hatch, his voice even. "Try a private collection left behind by Vivian herself."
Silence.
Then, Jonathan let out a low hum of interest. "Now that… that is worth a trip."
Lex's smirk widened. "Good. Because I need a full appraisal—immediately."
Jonathan didn't hesitate. "I know your address. I'll be there within the hour tops."
Lex ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.
Jason, still standing amidst a mountain of jazz records and priceless canvases, crossed his arms. "Alright, hotshot. What's the plan?"
Lex's black eyes gleamed.
"We find out exactly what we're sitting on."
Lex leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he checked the time. Jonathan Pierce was en route, but until then, they had a bit of downtime.
Jason, sitting on a dusty crate, let out a mock sigh as he flipped through an old vinyl sleeve. "Alright, Latham, real question—you got any other surprise treasure rooms? A secret wine cellar? A gold vault? Maybe a shed full of priceless shit?"
Lex smirked, drumming his fingers on the countertop. "We do have a shed."
Jason perked up. "Wait—seriously?"
Lex shrugged. "Not sure what's in it, though. Could be garden tools. Could be another Pollock."
Jason stood immediately. "Alright. That's it. We're checking."
Noah, setting up his next camera angle, grinned. "I hope it's just a pile of useless crap. That'd be hilarious."
Jason shot him a look. "If there's another collection out there, I swear to God, Latham, you are the luckiest bastard alive."
Lex chuckled. "Let's go find out."
The backyard was overgrown but well-kept. Tucked in the far corner, past the garden hedges, stood a weathered wooden shed—large, locked, and long forgotten.
Jason pointed at it. "That thing's too damn big to be just for gardening."
Lex pulled out an old keyring, flipping through the brass tags until he found the right one. He slid it into the rusted padlock—
Click.
The door creaked open, revealing rows of massive, cloth-covered frames. The air smelled of aged canvas, wood, and dust.
Jason took one step inside, stared for three seconds, then turned to Lex.
"Latham."
Lex smirked. "Yeah?"
Jason gestured broadly. "WHAT THE FUCK?"
Lex pulled the nearest cloth covering back, revealing a bold, striking abstract piece—thick paint strokes, deep blues and harsh blacks in sharp contrast.
Noah zoomed in. "Jesus Christ. That's a de Kooning."
Lex raised an eyebrow. "Looks like this is where the oversized pieces ended up."
Jason dragged a hand down his face. "Latham. This is not a shed. This is a goddamn warehouse of modern art."
Noah chuckled, still filming. "So what's next, Lex? You gonna tell us you got a Picasso in your coat closet?"
Lex smirked, running his fingers along the wooden frames.
"Wouldn't be surprised."
Lex stepped further into the dusty shed, the air thick with the scent of aged canvas and old wood. The sheer size of the frames stacked inside told him one thing—these weren't just forgotten pieces.
They were too large to fit in the brownstone.
Jason ran a hand over a massive frame, still covered in its protective cloth. He turned to Lex, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Alright, Latham. I'm officially done being shocked. You got a goddamn museum's worth of art hidden all over this place."
Lex smirked, pulling off the dusty sheet.
The painting underneath was huge—a striking Franz Kline, all bold black strokes over white canvas. The kind of piece that belonged in a major gallery, not a forgotten shed.
Noah, still filming, let out a low whistle. "That's gotta be worth at least eight figures."
Jason blew out a breath. "Man, this ain't even funny anymore. Who the hell just leaves this in a shed?"
Lex crossed his arms, surveying the rows of covered frames.
"Vivian was practical," he mused. "If something didn't fit inside the house, she found another place for it."
Jason let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, like just casually dumping a de Kooning out back."
Lex smirked. "You should've seen how she handled real estate."
Noah adjusted his camera. "So what's the plan?"
Lex ran his fingers along the edge of another massive canvas.
"We get everything appraised. Then we decide how to use it."
Jason scoffed. "Let me guess. You're not selling any of it."
Lex's black eyes gleamed. "Not yet."
Jason shook his head, muttering, "You are one greedy son of a bitch, you know that?"
Lex chuckled, dusting off his sleeves.