Lancaster Prep Family Tree Novels & Stories

"You think I'm weak? You think I'll just shut up, Mrs. Margareth." "Elena, don't," Nathan held his wife's arm gently. But Elena raised her other hand-and... Plak~ A slap landed squarely on Margaret's cheek. Margaret fell silent. A few seconds of silence, before she hissed, "You have no idea what you're up against. The Lancaster family is no joke-" "The Lancasters? I know who they are better than you do," Elena said sharply. "And I know one thing; the Lancaster family will no longer rise and will no longer be equal to the nobility."

"You and your family have truly suffered a horrible death, Fred—an entire family gone just like that, without even leaving a descendant behind!" I stared blankly at the scene as a sudden burst of wailing echoed in my ears. I noticed three coffins lined up neatly before me, holding the bodies of Wendy Lowe, Fred Lancaster, and Draco Lancaster—Mom, Dad, and my younger brother. Those who were mourning so passionately were Shawn Lancaster and Olivia Smith—my uncle and aunt from the countryside.

"Hello, Mrs. Lancaster. I'm Celia Spencer. My company is still in its early stages, so it can't compare to the Lancaster family empire. But I care deeply about Luke." "Care? How sweet. Does caring pay the mortgage?" Veronica scoffed and deliberately raised her voice. "Our Luke is the son of the wealthiest man in the country. He's going to inherit this entire empire. If you don't have real capabilities, are you expecting the Lancaster family to support you out of charity?" Guests nearby turned to look, whispering among themselves. I was about to intervene when I saw Dad descending the stairs. "What's all this commotion?" Though Dad was 60 years old, his presence commanded respect. His sharp g

“I told you my family are keepers of records. Last night, after I heard the news, I called my grandfather. He’s the archivist. I asked him about the Lancasters, about Gideon’s rise. What he told me isn’t in any official pack history.” He paused, choosing his words with care. “Red Creek, the Lancaster seat, wasn’t always ruled by Ronan’s line. Two generations back, it was ruled by Esther and Kieran Lancaster. Ronan’s grandparents. They had two sons: Kieran Jr., Ronan’s father and Gideon.” I frowned. “Gideon is Ronan’s uncle. I know that.”

Or all three if Ella wants to bother us again, since we're staying here today. Nick and Ella joined us a little later as Lancaster was telling him about his company's tracking device project, I think he works in IT security. Lancaster suddenly turned to me "You know what's even weirder? Everyone in here right now is related. You and Lana may have known each other for a long time, but Ella and I, Nicholas and Alice ... We've all knew each other long before this. I never would have expected to see Ella again after all this time, especially after Lana threatened me not to see Ella again." Lancaster blinked briefly at Ella before downing the champagne from his glass.

This was where she can meet with all the important people, and decision-makers of Lancaster, and persuade them to financially support her cause. She hated the lot, though, she needed their money but she hated their guts. Rich, successful, middle-aged men, and women with power are the worst kind of species on earth. They were the ones who caused the deteriorating condition of the earth with their greed, so they’re the ones who have to pay for the damage. That was her core belief. Her father was among the peers. Graham Knox owned the largest tobacco company in Lancaster and the majority shares of three palm oil companies. His businesses thrived and expanded to other industries. Graham along wi

The Lancaster family’s annual check-up was held at St. Alden Medical Center, the most expensive hospital on the East Coast. The floors were polished so well that the chandeliers above shimmered in their reflection. It was the kind of place most people would only see on TV—quiet, private, and filled with the scent of fresh lilies. Everyone was here—except my husband, Adrian Lancaster. He was the heir to the Lancaster Group, the current CEO, and apparently too busy to be with his family. Or maybe just too busy for me.

The doorbell rang—a soft, polite chime that was rarely used. I walked to the door, peering through the lens. It was a private courier, wearing a simple, dark uniform. I opened the door just enough to accept the package. It was a small, heavy envelope, made of thick, cream-colored cardstock. It wasn’t sealed with glue, but with a large, elaborate wax seal. The seal bore a complex, gothic monogram: the unmistakable, archaic crest of the Lancaster family patriarch. My hands started to tremble. This wasn’t a bill. This wasn’t a fan letter. This was from his father.

I force a small smile, hoping it looks natural. "Beautiful," the photographer says. "Now, one with the couple alone." The others step aside — Ryan, Camilla, Mr. and Mrs. Lawson, the Lancaster parents all watching as I pose next to their precious heir. After a few shots, Camilla gives me a small, encouraging thumbs-up from the side. I return a subtle nod. At least someone here doesn’t look like they want me erased. Then it’s time for the full family shot. I stand quietly at the edge, unsure where to place myself until the photographer waves me to stand beside Asher again. The Lancasters arrange themselves quickly: Asher’s father in the center, his mother beside him, Zara to one side, arms cro

“I look like I just escaped from an indie coffee shop.” “You look fine,” he said flatly, but the faint curve at the corner of his lips betrayed him. “They’ll survive.” We entered the dining hall, or what I assumed was the dining hall, though it could easily double as a ballroom. A crystal chandelier hung above a table that could seat twenty, and the Lancaster family was already gathered: his mother, father, two aunts, one uncle, a cousin, and a grandmother who looked like she could silence nations with one disapproving glance.