"Lex! Son!" Lionel called, gesturing for him to stop, but Lex barely acknowledged him. He paced back and forth across his office, one hand repeatedly brushing over his face as though he could physically wipe away what he had just read.
His eyes were red from exhaustion. Two weeks of barely sleeping had taken its toll, and the papers trembling in his hands only made him look more fragile.
"No, Dad." Lex shook his head, staring at the report in disbelief. "No. This couldn't be happening."
He read the same lines again and again. "This couldn't be her." The papers slipped from his fingers. "No." His voice cracked.
He suddenly grabbed the documents and slammed them against the desk before sweeping them onto the floor. Pages scattered across the room, photographs sliding beneath chairs and tables.
"That—" Lex pointed toward one of the photographs, his breathing becoming heavier. "That is not Lucy!"
"Lex—"
"She isn't dead!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the office. "She's not dead, Dad!"
Lionel stopped.
He had seen his son angry before. He had seen him frustrated, betrayed, humiliated, even furious enough to make grown men reconsider their career choices.
But this was different. This wasn't anger. This was desperation. The realization unsettled Lionel more than he cared to admit and for a moment, it worried him.
He had intended the deception to accomplish one thing: make Lex stop looking.
For two weeks, Lionel had watched his son tear through every resource available to him searching for Lucinda. Private investigators. Security teams. Police contacts. LuthorCorp's surveillance network. Every connection he possessed had been pushed into the search.
And Lex still hadn't stopped.
So Lionel had created an ending for him.
A body had been found. The remains had been burned almost beyond recognition. The evidence had been carefully arranged, the identification manipulated, and the report delivered with enough authority to make the story believable.
Lucinda Bryce was dead.
At least, that was what Lionel wanted Lex to believe. He had expected grief. He had expected anger. Perhaps, eventually, acceptance. What he hadn't expected was this.
For fourteen days, Lex had barely slept. He had forgotten meals, ignored meetings, dismissed phone calls, and spent countless nights staring at maps and photographs until dawn. His clothes had begun hanging loosely on him, his face had grown noticeably thinner, and even his usual immaculate appearance had deteriorated.
Lionel had watched it happen. He had assumed exhaustion would eventually force Lex to surrender. Instead, it had made him more determined.
And now, after finally receiving what should have been definitive proof of Lucinda's death, Lex looked as though someone had ripped the last piece of certainty from him.
Lionel slowly stepped closer. "Son," he said carefully, "the evidence is conclusive."
Lex's head snapped toward him. "Evidence?" he repeated bitterly. "You call that evidence?"
His eyes were glassy, but there were no tears. "I know Lucy," Lex said, his voice dropping into something frighteningly calm. "And that isn't her."
Lionel studied him silently.
For the first time, he wondered if he had made a terrible mistake. Because whatever had existed between his son and that woman, it had clearly become something far beyond an obsession.
"Son, you've only known this Lucy Bryce for a very short time," Lionel reasoned, his voice measured. "What is it about this woman's death that has made a Luthor this desperate?"
Lex slowly lifted his eyes toward him. "Because she sees me for who I really am, Dad."
His voice was calm—almost eerily so—but every word landed with the force of a scream.
"She didn't see the name. She didn't see the money, the company, or the family I came from. She saw me. She showed it. She expressed it. And I felt it, even if it was only for a very short time."
He paused, his jaw tightening.
"Something you, my father, never did."
Lionel's expression faltered. Lex didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. That last sentence had already said everything he couldn't bring himself to scream.
"And that very person has been stripped out of my hands." Lex's eyes wobbled, but his expression hardened. "What do you think I'm going to do? I'd tear apart an empire if I had to."
"Stop with all this sentimental nonsense, Lex!" Lionel thundered.
He immediately stopped when Lex swiftly marched toward him and looked him straight in the eyes.
"This is not a threat, Dad," Lex said quietly. "But a promise. Once I find out you're behind this, I'm making sure you lose everything."
Lionel almost swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure.
"I know Lucy isn't dead," Lex continued. "She's not the kind of woman to simply die without a fight." He tilted his head toward the papers and photographs scattered across the floor. "The autopsy report stated there were no signs of a struggle. No defensive wounds. No bruising around the wrists. No scratches beneath her fingernails. Nothing that suggests she fought for her life."
His eyes narrowed.
"Lucy could take down at least a few guards before they brought her down. There should be marks. Bruises. Broken nails. Something. Anything."
Lex crouched and picked up one of the photographs.
"But there was nothing." He slowly looked back at Lionel. "Because that wasn't my Lucy."
Lionel chuckled in disbelief. Of course. It wouldn't be easy to fool his son. He had trained Lex too well, and now, perhaps, Lex was finally learning to use those lessons against him.
"Then have it your way, son." Lionel straightened his suit and stepped back, heading toward the door. "But I can assure you," he paused and glanced over his shoulder, "you can tear Smallville apart brick by brick and you still won't find Lucy Bryce."
Lex's eyes narrowed.
"Simply because," Lionel continued, "she doesn't exist."
And with that, Lionel walked out.
Lex remained frozen for a moment, staring at the closed door. The words lingered in his mind.
Did he already found out? He thought.
He was just about to call him back when the door opened again.
"Lex! Chloe found something!" Clark announced.
He hurried inside with a stack of papers and photographs in his hands. His eyes briefly followed the direction Lionel had gone before settling on Lex.
Lex immediately accepted the documents while Clark crouched down to gather the scattered papers and photographs from the floor.
"Who is this supposed to be?" Clark asked, picking up one of the photographs.
"Lucy," Lex answered.
Clark's neck practically snapped toward him.
Lex glanced at him. "Relax. That's just what they're trying to make me believe."
Clark exhaled in relief and continued gathering the photographs before placing them on Lex's desk.
"Chloe had a hard time digging through this information," he said, pointing toward a red X marked on the map Lex was holding. "This is the plant your father mentioned. The one supposedly owned by the Swanns, where Lucy was allegedly taken."
Clark hesitated.
"Chloe was there before your men arrived to investigate," he lied smoothly. "She found this. Please forgive her. She was only trying to salvage the evidences since your father's men had started cleaning everything."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a bracelet.
In reality, Clark had been the one who searched the plant—the very place where Lucinda had nearly become a meal for the infected. He was only thankful Lex didn't ask why Chloe didn't brought the bracelet up after two weeks. Must be because of his exhaustion.
Clark placed the bracelet into Lex's palm and he immediately examined it, his fingers tracing the engraved letters.
"ES?" he murmured.
"Elizabeth Swann," Clark clarified. "Chloe searched through photographs and found that Elizabeth wears jewelry with her initials engraved on them."
He handed Lex the photographs.
Several showed Elizabeth wearing different pieces of jewelry, the ES clearly visible on each one.
Lex's fingers tightened around the bracelet. "Which means…" His eyes slowly lifted toward Clark. "Elizabeth was there? But why would she—"
He stopped, waiting for Clark to fill the silence.
Clark lingered for a moment. He didn't want to completely open that door, but at this point, he had no choice. He knew Lex already knew part of Lucinda's truth. He just didn't know how much.
"Lucy," Clark began carefully, "she's very special. In a way that's difficult to explain."
Lex's eyes sharpened.
"Perhaps that's why Elizabeth hid her," Clark continued, sounding as though he had just pieced the information together. "And perhaps that's why Lionel suddenly stepped into the picture. Are they working together? Who knows."
He looked down at the bracelet again.
"But I think it's becoming clear why she was kept hidden. Assuming, of course, she's even alive, I'll take your words for it."
Clark remained silent. He had tried to sound curious, almost as though he were only beginning to question Lucinda's identity.
Lex caught it immediately.
"How much do you know about her, Clark?"
The question came so directly that, for a moment, even Clark felt like his superhuman body had forgotten how to function.