THE TRASH YOU MOCKED

4

Evan kept staring at the woman in the photo, his mother. Althea Sorrenson. Her eyes felt like a mirror, and he could feel some similarities in their features.

He looked back up. “Why me? Why all this secrecy? Why was I hidden?”

The man sat up straighter, folding his hands in his lap. “It started before you were born.”

He took a breath, then continued.

“Your mother, Althea, was brilliant. She was the rightful heir to the Sorrenson empire, which merged with the Lancasters through her marriage to Jonathan Lancaster, your father.”

Evan’s breath caught. He had a father… and he married into power?

The man nodded, as if reading his thoughts.

“But power like that comes with enemies. People who didn’t want your mother to inherit, people who didn’t trust Jonathan’s vision of building something more ethical, more sustainable. Your parents weren’t just rich, they were reformers. And that made them dangerous in the eyes of those who profited from the old way of doing things.”

Evan swallowed hard.

“What happened to them?”

“They were murdered,” the man said plainly. “Disguised as an accident. A ‘tragedy’ no one dared question.”

Evan’s knees gave slightly, and he sat down on the table behind him.

“Murdered?”

The man gave a solemn nod. “The ones behind it tried to eliminate you too. But someone loyal to your parents smuggled you out that night. You were placed in foster care under a new identity. You became Evan Blake.”

“And you…” Evan’s voice cracked. “You’ve known all this time?”

“I was instructed to watch over you from a distance. But I lost traces of your whereabouts ever since your foster parents died until now.”

“Why now?”

“Because your grandfather, Declan Lancaster, died three days ago. His will has just been unsealed. You’ve come of age, and your identity can no longer remain hidden. But more importantly…”

He paused.

“…there are others. People inside Lancaster Holdings. Powerful individuals who never wanted you to resurface. Now that the will has named you as sole heir, they’ll come for you.”

Evan’s blood ran cold.

“So this isn’t just about money,” he said slowly.

The man shook his head. “It’s about power and control. Right now, you’re the only legal obstacle standing between them and full dominion over a $1.4 trillion empire.”

Evan stared at the locket, his hands trembling.

He opened it.

Inside was a picture of his mother holding a baby—him. Her thumb brushed his cheek, her smile radiant.

A lump formed in his throat.

“I don’t even know how to be rich,” he whispered. “I barely know how to survive.”

The man’s voice softened. “You won’t have to do this alone. But you do need to decide… quickly. "

An hour later, Evan sat in the back seat of the black Rolls-Royce, barely blinking as the city blurred past the tinted windows.

The man in the suit who had introduced himself as Mr. Harland sat beside him, scrolling through encrypted messages on a sleek tablet. They didn't discuss.

Evan, on the other hand, was still trying to digest everything.

Evan Lancaster. Sole heir. Hidden for protection. 1.4 trillion dollars. Enemies. A family wealth he never asked for.

He leaned his head back and exhaled slowly.

“I feel like I’ve been kidnapped by a ruthless villain,” he muttered.

Mr. Harland smiled faintly. “ I'll prefer the term ‘extraction.’ And villains don’t usually offer you inheritance paperwork.”

Evan nearly smiled.

As they approached the estate, the vehicle slowed. The gates ahead were colossal, twelve feet tall, matte black, with gold crests emblazoned on both sides.

Lancaster Holdings was subtly engraved in an old Latin script on the arch above.

Two armed guards saluted as the car rolled in.

What Evan saw next made his jaw drop.

The estate looked less like a home and more like a kingdom.

Rows of supercars, Bugattis, Lamborghinis, Ferraris, vintage Aston Martins—lined the circular driveway like a private auto museum.

Beyond that, the mansion itself towered in the distance. A modern-day fortress with classic architecture with arched balconies, glass wings, and cascading gardens the size of small parks.

There were dozens of uniformed staff moving in organized patterns from gardeners, housekeepers, drivers, chefs. Evan even spotted people on horseback, patrolling the far reaches of the property with earpieces and rifles slung across their backs.

“This… this isn’t a house,” he muttered. “It’s a small country.”

Harland nodded. “The Lancaster Estate is one of six. This is the main residence, though. Security is tighter than a government black site. You’ll be safe here.”

“Safe?” Evan said, eyebrows raised. “From who?”

Harland didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned to Evan and said quietly, “From the board members who are your father's enemies. From people who are about to find out about who you are. Even from people who call you family.”

That last word echoed in Evan’s ears.

Family?

The car came to a smooth stop at the grand steps of the estate.

A red carpet had already been rolled out. At least twenty staff members lined up, waiting in two rows with heads bowed.

As Evan stepped out, a valet took his door. Another bowed. “Welcome home, Master Lancaster.”

Evan froze.

He wasn’t sure what felt more surreal

Is it the fact that someone had just called him Master Lancaster, or the fact that none of this felt like home at all.

Not even close.

Evan followed Harland through the grand foyer of the Lancaster Estate, his footsteps muffled by Persian rugs that probably cost more than his entire neighborhood.

The design of the place made the place feel like a living museum.

But none of it impressed him.

Not now.

Not when his chest was still tight from the whirlwind of revelations that had upended his entire identity.

They entered a private study.

Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. A long, dark table sat at the center, with a thick envelope bearing a wax seal resting at its head.

Harland gestured. “This is the final will and testament of Declan Lancaster. Your grandfather.”

Evan approached slowly, heart pounding.

Harland broke the seal, opened the folder, and began to read aloud:

> “To my grandson, Evan Lancaster, if you are reading this, then it means the time has come. The truth cannot be buried forever.

Your mother, Althea, gave birth to you in hiding. She feared for your life, and for good reason. She trusted no one, not even the board. Not even me, until the very end.”

Evan swallowed hard.

> “ The car accident that took her life… was no accident. She died under circumstances the family never investigated. I now believe it was orchestrated, just like the fire that killed your foster parents.”

“I was a coward for not protecting her. This inheritance is not just about wealth. It’s about doing what is right. I leave you full controlling interest in Lancaster Holdings, and the resources to uncover the truth behind your mother’s death.”

Harland paused, letting the words hang in the air.

Evan stared at the letter, silent. A chill passed through him.

The world had lied to him his whole life.

But then Harland slid over another document. “There’s more.”

This one had banking ledgers, contract scans, and old financial statements.

“What’s this?” Evan asked and collected the folders from Harland.

There should be more.

Something to make all this much clearer.

As Evan sorted through the thick pile of documents, his eyes skimmed the pages absently until a name jumped out at him like a live wire.

The Hilton Family.

His breath caught.