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THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER
By: EL JHAYUpdated just now
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English
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18
Chapters: 7
views: 43
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All my life, I’ve been a struggling college student, fighting tooth and nail just to make ends meet. Earning a scholarship to the most prestigious university in the country was my greatest achievement—but it also made me a target. To the wealthy elite who ruled the campus, I was nothing more than an outsider, the "poor scholarship kid" who didn’t belong. Every day, I endured their mockery, their whispers, and their cruel pranks. But everything changed with one phone call. One call that turned my world upside down. One call that rewrote my destiny. In an instant, I went from being the poorest student on campus to someone they never saw coming. And now, it's my turn to change the game.
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My Daily Life
The cab rolled to a stop in front of a worn-down apartment complex, its tires crunching against the gravel-strewn pavement. The driver barely spared me a glance as I dug into my pocket, fishing out the last few crumpled bills I had for the ride. It wasn’t much, but it got me home. I handed him the money, murmured a quick “Thanks,” and stepped out into the early morning chill. The street was quiet—eerily so. The distant hum of the city had softened into a lazy murmur, and the streetlights flickered, casting elongated shadows against the cracked sidewalk. I adjusted my bag over my shoulder and trudged toward the building, exhaustion clinging to my limbs like a second skin. Reaching the door of my tiny apartment, I pulled out my keys with fingers that felt heavier than they should have. The metal scraped against the lock as I twisted it open, the familiar creak of the old wooden door greeting me like an old companion. Stepping inside, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holdin
Latest Chapter
THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER My Father's Enemies
The grin didn’t fade as I turned away from the mirror, my mind racing. Fun. That was one way to put it. Insane was another. I ran my fingers over the expensive watch, the weight of it foreign against my skin. The bruises on my knuckles, the ache in my ribs, the ghost of Dylan’s boot against my side—those felt real. But this? The palatial estate, the staff treating me like royalty, the ten million dollars sitting in my account? It was like stepping into someone else’s life. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. I took a deep breath, inhaling the subtle scent of cedar and wealth, then crossed the room to the massive walk-in closet. Rows of suits in deep charcoals and midnight blues hung perfectly pressed, their designer labels whispering a price tag I didn’t even want to guess at. The shelves held rows of polished Italian leather shoes, and the glass display cases glinted with cufflinks, tie bars, and watches worth more than my old bartender’s salary in a year. I ran my fingers
Last Updated : 2025-03-28THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER Chapter 6: Now A Lancaster
My fingers trembled around the phone, my breath coming in short, disbelieving gasps. Ten million dollars. Ten million dollars. The number burned itself into my mind, searing away the pain, the humiliation, the despair. "Who… who are you?" I managed, my voice hoarse but no longer weak. There was something new in it now—something raw, electric. Hope. The man chuckled, a rich, warm sound. "My name is Vincent Cole, Master David. I’ve been searching for you for a very long time." Vincent Cole. The name meant nothing to me, but the way he said it—like it should have carried weight—made my pulse quicken. "You’re telling me," I said slowly, forcing my thoughts into some semblance of order, "that I’m the heir of Andrew Lancaster. The billionaire Andrew Lancaster." "Not just the heir," Vincent corrected, his voice dropping into something almost reverent. "His only heir. His son." The world tilted. Son. The word hit me like a freight train. My father—if he even was my father—had
Last Updated : 2025-03-27THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER Chapter 5: The Life-changing Phone call
I pushed open the bar’s creaky door and stepped inside, immediately hit by the familiar scent of alcohol, sweat, and stale smoke. The place was already busy, dimly lit with the usual crowd of regulars hunched over their drinks. Back to reality. I sighed, rolling my shoulders before making my way behind the counter. “Look who finally decided to show up,” a gruff voice called. I turned to see Mark, my manager, wiping down a glass with his ever-present scowl. He was a burly guy in his late forties with a permanent five o’clock shadow and a personality that swung between grumpy and mildly tolerable. “You’re two minutes late,” he added. I sighed. “Traffic.” Mark grunted but didn’t push it further. He didn’t actually care as long as I did my job. I grabbed an apron and tied it around my waist, my mind still replaying everything that had happened today. Jenny, her car, her laughter, the way she looked at me… I shook my head. I needed to focus. The night dragged on like it
Last Updated : 2025-03-25THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER Chapter 4: A Strange Connection
We continued eating, the atmosphere between us surprisingly light despite how unusual this situation felt. Jenny had this way of making things seem normal—even though nothing about this was normal. “So, tell me about yourself,” she said, twirling her fork between her fingers. “What do you like to do when you're not fighting in lecture halls?” I smirked. “You make it sound like I do that often.” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you?” I sighed dramatically. “Alright, maybe I’ve gotten into a few… misunderstandings.” She chuckled. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” I shrugged. “Well, when you don’t have much in life, you tend to fight to keep what little you do have.” Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she didn’t press. Instead, she took a sip of her drink and asked, “Okay, what about hobbies? Do you have any?” “Hobbies?” I repeated, thinking for a moment. “Uh… I guess I like reading. And fixing things. You know, like repairing old gadgets, computers, stuff
Last Updated : 2025-03-25THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER Chapter 3: A Rare Feeling
Professor Jenny and I made our way back to the lecture hall, and I could feel every single pair of eyes on us. The whispers started immediately—hushed murmurs, stolen glances, judgmental smirks. Some students nudged each other, others discreetly pulled out their phones, probably to record whatever was happening. I didn’t care. I kept my head straight, matching Ms. Jenny’s pace as she walked beside me, completely unfazed by the attention. If anything, she exuded an air of quiet authority, her presence commanding the room before she even said a word. We entered the lecture hall, and the moment we did, the whispers intensified. I ignored them. My focus shifted to my book, still lying on the floor where Dylan had crushed it. I walked over and bent down, picking it up. The cover was bent, the pages slightly torn, but I didn’t care. I ran a hand over the creases before tucking it under my arm and making my way to my seat at the far end of the hall. Ms. Jenny, on the other hand, st
Last Updated : 2025-03-25THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER Chapter 2: Professor Jenny
I walked into the lecture hall, heading straight for the farthest row. It was where I always sat—out of sight, out of mind. The perfect place to keep my head down and focus. Dropping my bag onto the desk, I pulled out my battered notebook and the thick textbook I carried everywhere. The cover was creased, the pages dog-eared from months of use. I had barely slept, my body running on nothing but sheer willpower and caffeine, but I couldn’t afford to fall behind. The lecturer hadn’t arrived yet, and the room buzzed with conversation, the voices of privileged students filling the space like an unbearable hum. Their designer clothes, their expensive perfumes, their casual arrogance—it was a world I didn’t belong to. I tuned it all out and focused on my book. Until a hand suddenly snatched it away. I looked up, my jaw tightening. Stella. She stood before me, twirling my book between her fingers, a smirk playing on her perfectly glossed lips. “Hey there, ex-boyfriend.” I exh
Last Updated : 2025-03-25THE RISE OF DAVID LANCASTER My Daily Life
The cab rolled to a stop in front of a worn-down apartment complex, its tires crunching against the gravel-strewn pavement. The driver barely spared me a glance as I dug into my pocket, fishing out the last few crumpled bills I had for the ride. It wasn’t much, but it got me home. I handed him the money, murmured a quick “Thanks,” and stepped out into the early morning chill. The street was quiet—eerily so. The distant hum of the city had softened into a lazy murmur, and the streetlights flickered, casting elongated shadows against the cracked sidewalk. I adjusted my bag over my shoulder and trudged toward the building, exhaustion clinging to my limbs like a second skin. Reaching the door of my tiny apartment, I pulled out my keys with fingers that felt heavier than they should have. The metal scraped against the lock as I twisted it open, the familiar creak of the old wooden door greeting me like an old companion. Stepping inside, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holdin
Last Updated : 2025-03-25
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