2025-04-24 21:25:48The Lancaster Headquarters was already alive with movement and purpose. From the legal department to the financial wing, each corridor hummed with quiet energy.
Keyboards clicked in rhythmic unison, phones buzzed intermittently, and clipped conversations filled the air as staff bustled with their morning tasks. Inside the sleek, spacious corner office on the top floor, Silas Lancaster was buried neck-deep in a maze of paperwork. His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loosened. The early sun filtered through the massive glass windows behind him, casting a golden hue over the desk piled high with documents awaiting his attention. He reached for another file, eyes scanning numbers and legalese, when the soft creak of the door opening reached his ears. Without lifting his gaze, he sighed. “I really do not want to be disturbed this morning, Nancy,” he said flatly, assuming it was his PA again. “Good morning to you too.” The voice stopped him in his tracks. It was feminine, yes. Soft—definitely. But it wasn’t Nancy. It held a calm melody he remembered far too well. A voice that lingered in his mind long after the night of his heir presentation. His head snapped up, faster than he realized, and his eyes locked onto the woman now standing in the doorway—Elena Rogers. Time stilled. She stood poised, elegance wrapped in simplicity. A fitted cream blouse tucked into high-waisted navy slacks, and her signature charm necklace resting gently at her collarbone. Her dark, wavy hair was pinned half-up, half-down, with loose strands framing her face. Silas rose to his feet instinctively. “Elena,” he breathed. She smiled, that same soft, disarming smile from the ceremony. The kind of smile that made one forget why they were ever stressed in the first place. She extended her hand for a handshake. “Good morning to you too,” she repeated. Silas took her hand, but instead of a firm shake, he gently raised it and kissed the back, just like he had that night. Déjà vu wrapped itself around them. Their eyes met again—this time without the candle-lit distractions of the ceremony. Silas noticed how her eyes sparkled in the morning light. He hadn’t realized they were speckled with green undertones, like dew on emerald leaves. Her lashes fluttered slightly, like a nervous blink, but her gaze remained fixed and confident. Elena noticed how his eyes weren’t just dark brown—they had streaks of hazel near the center. His jaw was tighter than the night before, likely from stress, but he still held himself like a man who had just stepped into power and wasn’t afraid of it. They stood in silence, gazes entwined, reading the unspoken words between them. Admiration, curiosity, something else flickering just beneath the surface. A full ten seconds passed. Maybe more. Silas finally broke the trance, blinking as he motioned toward the seats. “Please, have a seat.” She nodded gracefully and settled into the seat across from him. “So,” he began as he lowered himself back into his chair, “to what do I owe this special visit?” Elena’s smile widened, brushing the edge of teasing. “Roger’s NGO had a pending contract with your company, remember? I came to finalize the whole process this morning.” “Right,” Silas replied, exhaling. “Consider it finalized.” They both chuckled lightly. She retrieved a file from her bag and slid it across the table. “Let’s make it official anyway, Mr. Heir.” “Oh, so we’re using titles now?” he smirked as he took the folder and flipped through its contents. “Only when they make things move faster,” she teased. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the ink from Silas’ pen. They worked through the necessary documents, initialing and signing where needed. Between moments of paperwork, their light chatter filled the air. “So, what’s your day been like so far?” Elena asked. “Overwhelming,” Silas replied with a chuckle. “I thought being named heir would give me more status, not more paperwork.” “Well, now you’re royalty with responsibilities,” she said, glancing around the grand office. “This place suits you though.” “You think so?” “Mm-hmm. Power has a funny way of fitting people. But I think what makes it work is how you wear it, not just how it’s given.” He paused, her words lingering like a subtle echo. “And you?” he asked, shifting the spotlight. “Still running Rogers Initiative like the world depends on it?” “Of course. Kids need books, women need voices, and communities need hope. It’s exhausting but worth it.” He watched her eyes glow with passion as she spoke—genuine, fierce, and admirable. They finished the paperwork after a while, both rising to their feet at the same time. “Well, everything’s set,” Elena said, slipping the file back into her bag. “Great,” Silas replied, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for coming in personally.” She nodded. “I figured it was worth seeing the new heir in action.” They stood there, just a few feet apart, but the air felt charged again. There was a beat—neither moved. Silas looked at her lips, then her eyes. She mirrored the action. But instead of leaning in, Elena smiled gently and stepped toward the door. “Until next time, Mr. Lancaster,” she said, her tone teasing. He smiled, stepping forward but not closing the distance. “Next time, I might actually clear my morning to be disturbed.” She laughed softly, reached for the handle, and paused to glance back at him once more before walking out. As she turned the door handle, she collided with Mat at the door.
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 030
She laughed softly, reached for the handle, and paused to glance back at him once more before walking out. As she turned the door handle, she collided with Mat at the door.Elena Rogers stepping out, and Mat stepping in. They collided like two startled fencers. Elena’s cream blouse fluttered; Mat’s crisp shirt tilted askew. For a heartbeat, Mat’s brows knotted in irritation—until he realized who it was. His eyes widened, jaw slackening. “Elena?” he stammered, voice a mix of relief and surprise. Elena’s lips almost curved in a polite, almost a painful smile but she kept a straight face. She straightened, smoothing her slacks. She inclined her head ever so slightly—an acknowledgment, no more. Mat opened his mouth again, perhaps to speak, but Elena simply turned on her heel. Her gaze flicked toward Silas—warmth blossoming across her features. “Silas,” she said, her voice soft and bright. “Thank you for this morning. I’ll be in touch.” She gave him that same serene smile she
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 031
Silas Lancaster guided his sleek black sedan through the manicured gates of the Lancaster family estate. The late-morning sun glinted off the limestone façade of the mansion, throwing long shadows across the courtyard. He took a steadying breath, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket. Today, he would visit his grandfather—the patriarch—in his private chambers. He stepped into the marble foyer. Crystal chandeliers refracted light into dancing patterns on polished floors. Yet the grandeur felt secondary when he noticed a cluster of elders gathered near a sweeping stairway, leaning in low over hushed conversation. As Silas approached, they fell silent, eyes flicking to him like hawks tracking prey. In their glances, he sensed disdain—spite hiding behind stiff collars and jeweled brooches. Silas’s chest tightened, but he refused to be distracted. “No matter,” he told himself, “I’m here for Grandfather. Can’t let myself be distracted by bitter elders.”He passed through the hall
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 032
Morning sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lawson Industries’ headquarters, illuminating the sleek steel desks and humming servers lining the open-plan office. The steady click of keyboards and low murmur of meetings formed the usual soundtrack of corporate life. Behind a polished mahogany desk in her corner office, Lilian Lawson stared at her monitor, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She’d thrown herself into a half-finished marketing proposal, determined to drown out the echoes of Silas Lancaster’s rise to prominence. Despite Damien’s reassurances—that Silas’s ascension was a contrived spectacle—her mind kept circling back to the possibility that it was all too real. Every headline, every blinking news ticker seemed to taunt her with Silas’s name. She exhaled and refocused on the spreadsheet before her when the door burst open. Lilian jerked upright as her younger brother, Derek, stormed in, laptop in hand, eyes wide with alarm. “What the hell?!”
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 033
Elena Rogers sat at her polished oak desk in the Rogers NGO headquarters, sunlight filtering through tall windows and dancing across the rows of binders stationed neatly on chrome shelves. She’d spent the morning reviewing grant applications, fine-tuning budget projections, and fielding emails from field officers in three different time zones. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she drafted an upbeat progress report—until her wrist begged for pause. With a decisive click, she minimized her screen and leaned back in her ergonomic chair, eyes closed for a moment’s respite. The hum of the server cluster in the corner, the soft tread of assistants on the carpeted floor, even the distant murmur of a late-morning staff meeting—all of it faded into the background as she let her shoulders relax. At that instant, her phone buzzed insistently on the desk. The caller ID glowed with a name that always made her heart skip a beat: “Sandra.”A smile bloomed across her face before she eve
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 034
Moonlight pooled across Mat’s sprawling penthouse study, illuminating sleek bookshelves and the glint of city lights through floor-to-ceiling windows. Yet the room’s luxury offered him no comfort. He paced in erratic figure‐eights across the marble floor, irritation knotting his shoulders.“Why did she have to be the one to come and sign the documents?” he snarled to the empty room, voice rough with disbelief. “Of all people…” His shoes clicked against the stone as he strode, turned, and strode again. Earlier that day, he’d slipped into Silas Lancaster’s office to assist with pending contracts—his usual role as right hand to the heir. He’d expected formalities, handshakes, the routine press of paper. Instead, he’d found her standing across the desk: Elena Rogers, head of the Rogers NGO. Her steely poise, the grace of her greeting—yet she had refused to acknowledge him beyond a curt nod. Mat ran a hand through his hair. “Elena…” he whispered. The memory struck him like a physica
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 035
Silas settled deeper into the backseat of the sleek black sedan, the night air cool against his skin as the city’s neon lights flickered past. His chauffeur, Isaac, guided them along the quiet boulevard with practiced ease. Silas closed his eyes for a moment, letting the hum of the engine soothe him after a long day at the office.Then, around a sharp bend, two rugged jeeps screeched to a halt across the road. Isaac slammed on the brakes, tires chirping in protest, and the car nearly lurched forward before coming to an abrupt stop inches from the jeep’s grille.Before Silas could react, seven figures in dark clothing and featureless masks poured out of the jeeps, brandishing wooden planks and metal rods. The leader—a tall man with a scar running down one cheek visible beneath his mask—stepped forward. He raised a plank overhead and pointed directly at Silas.“You fraud! Imposter!” the leader hissed. “We’ve got a package for you!”In an instant, the masked men charged. Isaac threw
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 036
Moonlight slanted through broken windows of the abandoned warehouse, casting fractured beams across the cracked concrete floor. The two black jeeps skidded to a halt on the gravel outside. A ragged chain-link fence, its barbed wire twisted and rusted, marked the property’s perimeter. Inside, moonlight revealed peeling paint, graffiti-scrawled walls, and the skeletal shells of long-abandoned machinery.Two masked men yanked Silas Lancaster from the rear seat of one jeep. He slumped between them, still groggy from the blow to his neck. They dragged him across the littered floor, the soles of his dress shoes scraping against shattered glass. The warehouse doors groaned as they pushed him into the main chamber.A third man grabbed Silas’s arms and forced him into a scarred metal chair bolted to the ground. His legs dangled, wrists pulled tight behind the chair’s narrow backrest. The cold metal bit into his skin through his suit. “Wake him,” the first kidnapper growled. They poured
The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed Chapter 001
The clink of silverware echoed through the grand dining hall, a stark contrast to the silence that surrounded him. Silas, stooped over in his usual servant-like posture, placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of his wife, Lilian. She didn’t acknowledge him. She rarely did. “Too cold,” she said, pushing the cup away with a flick of her manicured hand. Her voice was sharp enough to slice through his heart. “I’ll make another one,” Silas murmured, his tone almost apologetic. “Do it quickly,” her mother Veronica, seated at the head of the table, snapped. “And this time, don’t embarrass us with your incompetence.” Silas nodded, avoiding eye contact. His shoulders sagged as he turned to the kitchen. The scorn in their voices no longer stung as it once had. He had grown numb to the daily barbs and sneers. Yet, deep down, a small part of him still longed for a kind word, a glimmer of approval—especially from Lilian. In the kitchen, the staff exchanged pitying glances but said no
Latest Chapter
Chapter 036
Moonlight slanted through broken windows of the abandoned warehouse, casting fractured beams across the cracked concrete floor. The two black jeeps skidded to a halt on the gravel outside. A ragged chain-link fence, its barbed wire twisted and rusted, marked the property’s perimeter. Inside, moonlight revealed peeling paint, graffiti-scrawled walls, and the skeletal shells of long-abandoned machinery.Two masked men yanked Silas Lancaster from the rear seat of one jeep. He slumped between them, still groggy from the blow to his neck. They dragged him across the littered floor, the soles of his dress shoes scraping against shattered glass. The warehouse doors groaned as they pushed him into the main chamber.A third man grabbed Silas’s arms and forced him into a scarred metal chair bolted to the ground. His legs dangled, wrists pulled tight behind the chair’s narrow backrest. The cold metal bit into his skin through his suit. “Wake him,” the first kidnapper growled. They poured
Chapter 035
Silas settled deeper into the backseat of the sleek black sedan, the night air cool against his skin as the city’s neon lights flickered past. His chauffeur, Isaac, guided them along the quiet boulevard with practiced ease. Silas closed his eyes for a moment, letting the hum of the engine soothe him after a long day at the office.Then, around a sharp bend, two rugged jeeps screeched to a halt across the road. Isaac slammed on the brakes, tires chirping in protest, and the car nearly lurched forward before coming to an abrupt stop inches from the jeep’s grille.Before Silas could react, seven figures in dark clothing and featureless masks poured out of the jeeps, brandishing wooden planks and metal rods. The leader—a tall man with a scar running down one cheek visible beneath his mask—stepped forward. He raised a plank overhead and pointed directly at Silas.“You fraud! Imposter!” the leader hissed. “We’ve got a package for you!”In an instant, the masked men charged. Isaac threw
Chapter 034
Moonlight pooled across Mat’s sprawling penthouse study, illuminating sleek bookshelves and the glint of city lights through floor-to-ceiling windows. Yet the room’s luxury offered him no comfort. He paced in erratic figure‐eights across the marble floor, irritation knotting his shoulders.“Why did she have to be the one to come and sign the documents?” he snarled to the empty room, voice rough with disbelief. “Of all people…” His shoes clicked against the stone as he strode, turned, and strode again. Earlier that day, he’d slipped into Silas Lancaster’s office to assist with pending contracts—his usual role as right hand to the heir. He’d expected formalities, handshakes, the routine press of paper. Instead, he’d found her standing across the desk: Elena Rogers, head of the Rogers NGO. Her steely poise, the grace of her greeting—yet she had refused to acknowledge him beyond a curt nod. Mat ran a hand through his hair. “Elena…” he whispered. The memory struck him like a physica
Chapter 033
Elena Rogers sat at her polished oak desk in the Rogers NGO headquarters, sunlight filtering through tall windows and dancing across the rows of binders stationed neatly on chrome shelves. She’d spent the morning reviewing grant applications, fine-tuning budget projections, and fielding emails from field officers in three different time zones. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she drafted an upbeat progress report—until her wrist begged for pause. With a decisive click, she minimized her screen and leaned back in her ergonomic chair, eyes closed for a moment’s respite. The hum of the server cluster in the corner, the soft tread of assistants on the carpeted floor, even the distant murmur of a late-morning staff meeting—all of it faded into the background as she let her shoulders relax. At that instant, her phone buzzed insistently on the desk. The caller ID glowed with a name that always made her heart skip a beat: “Sandra.”A smile bloomed across her face before she eve
Chapter 032
Morning sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lawson Industries’ headquarters, illuminating the sleek steel desks and humming servers lining the open-plan office. The steady click of keyboards and low murmur of meetings formed the usual soundtrack of corporate life. Behind a polished mahogany desk in her corner office, Lilian Lawson stared at her monitor, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She’d thrown herself into a half-finished marketing proposal, determined to drown out the echoes of Silas Lancaster’s rise to prominence. Despite Damien’s reassurances—that Silas’s ascension was a contrived spectacle—her mind kept circling back to the possibility that it was all too real. Every headline, every blinking news ticker seemed to taunt her with Silas’s name. She exhaled and refocused on the spreadsheet before her when the door burst open. Lilian jerked upright as her younger brother, Derek, stormed in, laptop in hand, eyes wide with alarm. “What the hell?!”
Chapter 031
Silas Lancaster guided his sleek black sedan through the manicured gates of the Lancaster family estate. The late-morning sun glinted off the limestone façade of the mansion, throwing long shadows across the courtyard. He took a steadying breath, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket. Today, he would visit his grandfather—the patriarch—in his private chambers. He stepped into the marble foyer. Crystal chandeliers refracted light into dancing patterns on polished floors. Yet the grandeur felt secondary when he noticed a cluster of elders gathered near a sweeping stairway, leaning in low over hushed conversation. As Silas approached, they fell silent, eyes flicking to him like hawks tracking prey. In their glances, he sensed disdain—spite hiding behind stiff collars and jeweled brooches. Silas’s chest tightened, but he refused to be distracted. “No matter,” he told himself, “I’m here for Grandfather. Can’t let myself be distracted by bitter elders.”He passed through the hall
Chapter 030
She laughed softly, reached for the handle, and paused to glance back at him once more before walking out. As she turned the door handle, she collided with Mat at the door.Elena Rogers stepping out, and Mat stepping in. They collided like two startled fencers. Elena’s cream blouse fluttered; Mat’s crisp shirt tilted askew. For a heartbeat, Mat’s brows knotted in irritation—until he realized who it was. His eyes widened, jaw slackening. “Elena?” he stammered, voice a mix of relief and surprise. Elena’s lips almost curved in a polite, almost a painful smile but she kept a straight face. She straightened, smoothing her slacks. She inclined her head ever so slightly—an acknowledgment, no more. Mat opened his mouth again, perhaps to speak, but Elena simply turned on her heel. Her gaze flicked toward Silas—warmth blossoming across her features. “Silas,” she said, her voice soft and bright. “Thank you for this morning. I’ll be in touch.” She gave him that same serene smile she
Chapter 029
The Lancaster Headquarters was already alive with movement and purpose. From the legal department to the financial wing, each corridor hummed with quiet energy. Keyboards clicked in rhythmic unison, phones buzzed intermittently, and clipped conversations filled the air as staff bustled with their morning tasks. Inside the sleek, spacious corner office on the top floor, Silas Lancaster was buried neck-deep in a maze of paperwork. His blazer was draped over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loosened. The early sun filtered through the massive glass windows behind him, casting a golden hue over the desk piled high with documents awaiting his attention. He reached for another file, eyes scanning numbers and legalese, when the soft creak of the door opening reached his ears. Without lifting his gaze, he sighed. “I really do not want to be disturbed this morning, Nancy,” he said flatly, assuming it was his PA again. “Good morning to you too.” The voice stop
Chapter 028
Moonlight poured through the floor‐to‐ceiling windows, illuminating the plush king‐size bed where Lilian and Damien lay locked in an embrace. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they moved together with a shared urgency, each touch sending sparks through them. Damien’s strong hands roamed Lilian’s curves, while she arched into him, breath hot against his neck.“God, Lilian,” he murmured between kisses, voice husky. “You feel incredible.”Her soft moan was answer enough. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he guided her with a confident rhythm. Their whispers and sighs filled the room: promises, confessions, gasps of pleasure. Damien’s breath grew ragged as he found that perfect cadence, and Lilian clung to him, nails light against his back.Then, with a rush of heat and release, they both reached that single, shattering moment. Damien’s arms tightened around Lilian as she cried out softly, and for a beat, time froze. They panted, foreheads pressed togeth
