Chapter 50 My Future Or Your Future

Chapter 50 My Future Or Your Future

Victor asked the drivers to prepare the cars.

Elena just stood there, watching the activity going on. She wore the pale blue dress her father had sent the night before. It fit perfectly... too perfectly... as if tailored to remind her who held control over every piece of her life.

She looked calm, composed, and elegant, everything her father wanted her to be. But inside, she was chaos.

Victor approached her, dressed in his usual dark suit. His smile was proud and satisfied, the kind of smile a man wore when every piece of his plan was falling into place.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” he said warmly, stepping closer.

Elena turned and forced a small smile. “Thank you, Father.”

He adjusted the diamond pin on his tie and continued, “The Volkovs will be joining us shortly. Caspian’s quite eager to have you see the site.”

“Why?” she asked quietly, though she already knew.

Victor chuckled. “Because he’s young, ambitious, and smart. Qualities I admire. I’m sure you do too.”

Elena said nothing. She merely looked away, her throat tightening.

Victor’s expression softened for a moment. “Don’t look at me like that, Elena. You’ll understand one day that everything I do is for your good. For your future.”

“My future,” she repeated bitterly. “Or yours?” She was getting tired of having that statement from him.

Victor didn’t answer. Instead, he walked away from her, his silence saying more than words ever could.

When he was out of sight, Elena released a long breath. She needed air, freedom, something beyond these suffocating walls.

And somewhere across the hall, Damien felt the same.



The convoy left the Lancaster estate at noon.

Victor and Mr. Volkov rode together in the lead car, their conversation full of investment talk and mutual flattery.

Elena sat in the car behind them with Mrs. Volkov and Caspian.

She could feel Caspian’s gaze on her from time to time, soft, curious, almost protective, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Her eyes kept flicking toward the black SUV trailing behind them.

Damien was in it.

She knew it.

She could almost feel his eyes on her, that silent watchfulness he always carried, just for her.

Her heart calmed a little at the thought. He was here with her.

The construction field lay on the outskirts of the city, a vast stretch of land that once housed old factories.

Now, it was reborn into glass and steel, a symbol of ambition.

Huge cranes towered against the sky, and workers moved like ants, each task carefully orchestrated.

Victor stepped out first, shaking hands with one of the site engineers. His smile was broad and powerful, the kind that made people want to please him.

Caspian offered Elena his hand as she stepped out. “Careful,” he said gently. “The ground’s uneven.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She looked around. The air was filled with the hum of machines and the smell of dust and metal.

She hated it.

Not because it was messy, but because it reminded her too much of her father, the empire he was so obsessed with, the world he wanted to build upon her obedience.

Mrs. Volkov approached, linking arms with her warmly. “You’ll love it here once the towers are done, dear. We plan to name one after you.”

Elena blinked. “After me?”

“Yes,” Victor said proudly, stepping closer. “The Elena Tower. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

Elena’s stomach turned. Her name being used like a trophy made her want to scream. But she stayed silent, keeping her face still and polite, the perfect daughter mask.

Caspian was watching her closely. He noticed the flicker in her eyes, the subtle tightening of her fingers around her dress. He knew she was far from happy.

He leaned closer and whispered, “You don’t have to smile if you don’t want to.”

She glanced at him, surprised. For a fleeting second, she almost smiled for real.

Damien stood at a distance, observing.
His black suit blended with the guards’. To anyone else, he looked like just another member of Victor’s security detail. But his eyes never left Elena.

She looked fragile today, but not weak. There was something in her stance, the way she carried herself even in discomfort, that pulled him in deeper.

He hated that.

He hated what he was feeling for her, and how he could easily see through her.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had come into this house for one reason, to bring Victor Lancaster to his knees. But the more he saw her, the more the lines blurred between mission and emotion.

When Victor laughed loudly with Mr. Volkov, Damien’s gaze hardened.

That man MUST pay.

He turned away, masking his rage with stoicism.