The Lost Heir: Trials of an Empire Reclaimed

Chapter 059

Morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lancaster Industries’ executive suite, illuminating the rows of neatly organized files and the sleek mahogany desk where Silas Lancaster sat, head buried in quarterly projections.

The hum of air conditioning and the distant murmur of staff beyond the glass walls formed the steady backdrop of corporate life.

Silas’s pen scratched across line after line of numbers when the door to his office opened silently—a signal he’d come to recognize.

He didn’t look up. “How can I help you?” he called, voice steady.

Nancy slipped in, the soft click of her heels the only hint of her entry. “You have a visitor, sir.” She closed the door behind her with a gentle hush.

At last, Silas raised his head. Nancy stood beside a young woman in her mid-twenties: tall, elegant, with chestnut hair cascading in loose waves over her shoulders.

Her emerald-green dress hugged her curves, the silk fabric catching the light as she moved. A pair of pearl earrings and a tasteful pendant completed her ensemble—a picture of refined poise.

Silas rose to greet her, smoothing his tie. “Good morning.”

Nancy offered a brief bow. “Sir, this is Miss Deborah Waltz, of House Waltz.”

Deborah extended a slender hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lancaster.” Her voice was warm, slightly husky—the perfect complement to her sophisticated bearing.

Silas took her hand in a gentle handshake. “The pleasure is mine, Miss Waltz.”

Nancy bowed again and slipped out, leaving Silas and Deborah alone in the softly lit office.

Silas gestured to the high-backed leather chair opposite him. “Please, have a seat.”

Deborah smiled and sat gracefully, smoothing the folds of her dress. From a small velvet pouch at her side, she produced an ornate box wrapped in gold ribbon.

“I wanted to formally introduce myself. I’m sorry we didn’t cross paths properly at the presentation last week.”

Silas nodded. “That was a busy evening. I appreciate you coming by now.”

She placed the box on his desk. “I hope you’ll accept a small gift—from House Waltz, in gratitude for your leadership.”

She opened the box to reveal a gleaming crystal paperweight in the shape of a soaring phoenix.

“And these,” she added, sliding a silk scarf patterned with the Waltz family crest across the desk.

Silas smiled politely, about to demur—“Miss Waltz, that’s too generous”—when Deborah’s eyes brightened. “Please, insist I didn’t come empty-handed.”

He lifted the paperweight, studying its craftsmanship. “It’s exquisite.”

Deborah’s cheeks colored slightly. “And there’s a private selection of Château Belleterre waiting in the conference room downstairs, should you care to taste.”

Silas laughed—a genuine, warm sound. “You’re spoiling me.”

They chatted easily: her growing fascination with his new initiatives, his admiration for her recent patronage of the arts.

Silas offered her a glass of water, and they shared a light-hearted exchange about the best cafés near Abbey Road.

Deborah’s laughter was bright, filling the room with energy.

Suddenly, the office door opened again. Mat Lancaster—tailored suit, easy smile—stepped inside. His presence was familiar and comforting. Deborah’s face lit up.

“Mat!” she exclaimed. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Mat bowed ceremoniously. “Miss Waltz, what a delight.” He turned to Silas with a grin. “Brother, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Silas shook his head. “Not at all.” He gestured to Mat. “Come in. I was just meeting with Deborah.”

Nancy’s gifts now lay atop the desk. Mat nodded to Deborah. “That scarf is beautiful.”

Deborah smiled. “Thank you. I hope it suits you as well.”

Mat accepted it humorously. “I’ll try not to look too dashing.”

Silas stood. “Deborah, Mat—thank you both for stopping by. I should let you get on with your day.”

Deborah rose gracefully. “Thank you, Mr. Lancaster. I look forward to seeing you both at the gala next month. Please enjoy the wine and gifts.”

She gave each of them a light kiss on the cheek. Mat lingered in the doorway, watching her with genuine affection as she exited.

Once the door closed, Silas sank back into his chair, chest warmed by the exchange. Mat leaned against the desk, arms folded.

“Deborah certainly has a thing for you,” Mat teased.

Silas chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s charming, I’ll give her that.”

Mat smirked. “I’d say more than charming.”

They shared a knowing grin, the easy camaraderie of brothers. Silas glanced at the phoenix paperweight—its crystalline wings glinting in the morning sun. “She’s a gracious ally. House Waltz is influential.”

Mat nodded. “Allies worth cultivating. And flattering, to boot.”

Silas picked up the silk scarf, running a fingertip across its fabric. “I’ll send her a thank-you note—and perhaps an invitation to tour the new data center.”

Mat clapped him on the back. “Good plan.”

Silas set aside the gifts and turned back to his spreadsheets, pencil moving quickly across the margins as Mat slid into the chair Nancy had vacated.

“Ready to tackle those Q3 projections?” Silas asked, refocusing on the numbers.

Mat grinned. “Always.”

Outside the office, the hum of Lancaster Industries continued—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, deals forging the future. Within the elegant suite, the echoes of pleasantries faded into productive conversation.

Two brothers, bound by resilience and ambition, returned to the business of building their family’s legacy—one gift, one spreadsheet, and one well-timed visit at a time.