Lex was used to lawyers and reporters by the time his eighteenth birthday rolled around.

Reporters had always flocked around him at Excelsior, especially when his mother died. Lawyers approached him throughout the appeals on Lionel's prison sentence, and the Kents helped Lex to navigate each situation. And when Lionel killed himself in prison, lawyers and reporters called in daily and made their way to the farm.

Jonathan kicked people out of the house right and left, sometimes threatening violence, and he became as skilled at identifying them as Lex was. On the rare occasion anyone managed to get through their defenses, Martha always gave Lex a long hug after their conversations—it wasn't exactly traumatic for him, but he hated talking to them.

Lex probably should have expected a lawyer to show up on his eighteenth birthday, but it had been a long time, and it was the furthest thing from his mind.

"I'm looking for an Alexander Luthor?" the lawyer said when Lex answered the door. He was asking a stupid question—Lex was all too easily identifiable.

"Who are you?" Lex asked. Also a stupid question. The man reeked of his profession. The cologne, the suit, the sneer, even the voice.

Lex heard heavy footsteps on the staircase behind him, then Jonathan's voice: "What do you want?"

"A private meeting with young Mr. Luthor. It should take no more than a few minutes."

"He's a minor, and we're his legal parents. We have the right to be there for any meeting you call with him."

"Actually, you don't. Mr. Luthor is eighteen, as of today."

"Well, since he's an adult, he has the right to insist—"

"Jonathan, it's okay," Lex said. "Could you give us a minute?"

Jonathan scowled. "You call for me the minute you need me," he said, and he headed back up the stairs.

Lex nodded for the lawyer to enter, and he closed the door behind him and took him into the living room. They sat down on the couch.

"I apologize that this is so sudden. Your father's instructions were very clear, he—"

"If we're going to have this conversation, I want to make one thing very clear. Lionel Luthor is not my father. Jonathan Kent is."

The lawyer frowned. "I find it curious that you never changed your name."

Lex didn't feel the need to explain his personal life choices to a stranger. "What's this about?"

"Your inheritance."

"I have no inheritance. All accounts with Lionel's name on them were dissolved."

"Almost all. This trust fund had your name." The lawyer swung his briefcase onto his lap and clicked it open, then he took out an envelope and handed it to Lex. "The account information, as well as the current balance."

Lex's jaw pulsed before he took the envelope and opened it with his fingers. The balance made him lose his breath for a moment.

Over thirty million.

Lex put the paper back into the envelope and held it out to the lawyer. "Not interested."

The lawyer didn't even look down at the paper. "That's not my problem."

"I don't want anything that belonged to Lionel Luthor."

"Then ignore it. Give it away. I don't care. I'm just a messenger." The lawyer snapped his briefcase shut and left the house.

Lex swallowed. It was more than not wanting anything of his biological father's. He didn't like what wealth did to people, or to their relationships. Jonathan and Martha's view of him would change if he suddenly had eight digits in the bank account, as would Clark's—they wouldn't be able to help it. Lex could never hope for another real friendship. He couldn't get married; he could never trust a woman to be truly uninterested in his money.

Jonathan came down the stairs as soon as the door closed. He turned to Lex, who sat on the couch, envelope in his hand. "What was that about?"

"Just an obligatory visit to let me know what's left of Lionel's estate."

"Ah. Anything interesting?"

Despite years of having honesty drilled into him, Lex shook his head. "No, not really."

Lex had every intention of forgetting about the money, until his acceptance letter came in from Metropolis University. He had earned a full merit scholarship, which seemed wildly unfair to the next-highest-achieving student who didn't make the cut.

Lex knew Jonathan had called a financial advisor he trusted a couple of times when the farm was struggling. When the Kents were out, Lex found the phone number and set up a confidential meeting.

They met in a little office building at the edge of Smallville. Lex told him about the account, and then he cut right to the chase: "Is it possible to keep this a secret?"

"In theory, yes," the advisor told him. "But you're going to have a very difficult time."

"How do I prevent people from finding out?"

"You have to live like you don't have the money."

It sounded easy enough.

Lex met with a few members of the financial aid committee at the university in confidence to discuss what should be done with his scholarship funds. They told him the award wasn't need-based, and he could keep it if he wanted, but he declined. Under the circumstances, they agreed to apply Lex's scholarship funds to the runner up, but still officially consider Lex a merit scholarship winner in their documentation. Lex just needed to know that the programs at graduation would mention the scholarship; that was the only way to keep his family out of the dramas and dangers of his wealth.

Meanwhile, the Kents' financial advisor set Lex up with some low-stakes, low-gain investments that would maintain the value of the account. The advisor told him that if he spent less than a million a year, the account would never lose much of its value, but admonishing him that he'd be hard pressed to hide it if he spent more than a hundred thousand a year.

That was fine with Lex, but over the years, he found ways to spend the money in ways that weren't obvious. In college, he bought a car that looked nice to him and was reliable, but was made by an overseas company that people wouldn't easily associate with the car's six-digit price tag. After graduation, Lex started a non-profit medical research company, and claimed a few million in anonymous startup donations. Most people had no idea how much it costed to start up that kind of company, or how difficult it was to secure initial donations, so people didn't bat an eyelash. And when Lex bought an engagement ring for Anastasia—who was still in the dark about how he could afford everything he did—he went for a medium-sized diamond, but made sure it was the highest-quality stone money could buy.

Aside from that, Lex made a habit of treating friends to meals, though he was respectful if they declined and grateful if they insisted on treating him instead. He enjoyed giving gifts to friends and family, and he frequently found himself shrugging and telling his parents "I got a good deal" when they asked how he had managed to afford a particular gift. He was also generous with his employees, though he found that in the long run, this usually earned him more money than it lost him.

He dressed simply, as did his family, and gave his kids no more in Christmas or birthday presents than their grandparents did. The Luthors lived in a house the size of the Kents' home, and their family took no more lavish vacations than the average family in the area.

But sometimes, one of the Kents's friends would unexpectedly find their medical bills cancelled. And occasionally, a student at Smallville High who had been kind to Clark would discover they'd won a scholarship they didn't remember applying for—it happened to Clark himself, too. And once in awhile, a struggling family who was doing generous work in the community would receive a message that their mortgage had been paid in full. Most of them never found out what had happened.

And once every year or two, Lex would leave his kids at the Kent farm, whisk his wife away to a private island, and pamper her with delicacies, fine wines, expensive jewelry and other gifts, spa treatments, and the softest sands and clearest skies in the world. Anastasia always told him that he didn't have to spoil her, that she would enjoy the time with him just as much regardless of where they were, but Lex felt perfectly justified in every dollar he spent those weekends. She was worth every penny.