Chloe didn't need to wait for too long.
Within minutes, she stood in front of her father's office. It was located on the highest floor of their mansion, the 3rd floor. As she arrived in front of it, the heavy door slowly opened as if it were waiting for her arrival.
The office of her father was a world of its own.
Elegance and perfection could barely describe it.
Dark mahogany shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with countless books—business strategy, global politics, rare first editions, and even philosophy texts bearing cracked leather spines as if they belonged to ancient tis.
A tall glass window behind the main desk let in the golden rays of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the room's intricate Persian rug, one that was custom-made.
In one corner stood a vintage globe bar cart, and beside it was a well-maintained single bonsai tree that was resting on a raised stand. The scent of polished wood, aged paper, and faint cologne gave the room an aura of old money.
Several frad paintings and pictures hung on the plain wall on the other side of the shelves. Chloe recognized them imdiately. There was a picture of her parents' wedding photo, a photo of her father with the current and previous president of the country, and another where he smiled beside a group of their company workers.
Below it was countless plaques, trophies, and certificates that showed how successful their family was.
And seated behind the dark wood desk in the middle was a man reviewing a docunt. He was wearing a reading glasses that perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked serious and imposing.
"Father..." Chloe's voice slowly trailed off.
Her father, Jonathan Lancaster, was a man who had built an empire not from inheritance, but from his own hardship.
At the ripe age of 58, Jonathan Lancaster had silver streaks in his hair and a sharply lined face carved by years of struggle and success. His tailored navy suit sat perfectly on his tall fra despite being at ho.
His hands were large and calloused from a youth who had spent most of his days working. His expression, even though unreadable at first glance, carried a weight of calm authority.
Jonathan Lancaster was no ordinary CEO.
He had grown up poor, living in the slums of a forgotten mining town. He started working odd jobs from age ten—hauling crates, fixing machinery, and selling scraps. Little by little, he built his company into one of the nation's largest family-led conglorates.
His success wasn't handed to him.
And even now, even if he was surrounded by luxury, he carried no arrogance, just pure authority.
He was known in elite circles for being composed and principled. He was kind to the humble, respectful to the hardworking, and brutally dismissive of the entitled.
Power didn't interest him. Integrity did.
When Chloe entered, he glanced up from the docunt and removed his glasses.
"Chloe," he said, voice steady, warm. "I was told you wanted to see . Co in, my dear."
Chloe stepped into the room. She could feel the thick carpet beneath her shoes. The doors closed behind her with a muffled thud.
"I want to talk about Velmora Tech," she said, her tone polite and even. "I think it's ti we make the move."
Jonathan gave her a long, asured look, one that Chloe had grown up with. It wasn't the look of a father doubting his daughter but rather the look of a man weighing reason over sentint.
"I see," Jonathan raised a brow, gesturing for Chloe to sit across from her.
Jonathan leaned back slightly, setting his reading glasses on top of the desk. The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint, intrigued smile.
"Velmora Tech," he repeated slowly, tasting the na like a sip of fine scotch. His fingers tapped the desk gently.
"That's quite a specific recomndation coming from you, Chloe. For the first ti it's not fashion, art, or a charity project. Instead, it's a company?" Jonathan raised a brow, amused by his daughter's sudden change.
Chloe gave a small nod as she took the seat across from him. Her hands were clasped neatly in her lap.
"I know it's not like to bring sothing like this up," she admitted, her eyes not leaving his. "But I've been... looking into it. Just a little."
Jonathan chuckled under his breath, amused.
"Looking into it? Since when does my daughter with a zero interest in board etings start looking into tech investnts?"
His words weren't cruel, but just pure surprise. Jonathan never raised his voice to his kids.
"I heard a rumor," she said carefully. "A big company was eyeing that tech company. I knew that it wasn't our company, but there were just a few rumors..."
Jonathan's brows lifted slightly, and the fingers that had been tapping his desk were now still. He leaned forward just a fraction, enough to signal that she now had his full attention.
"I'm listening."
Chloe swallowed once and pressed on with her words.
"I heard that our enemy has been eyeing that company. I've looked into it and noticed that Velmora has been developing a new neural frawork for smart integration—AI, automation, the whole thing."
Jonathan remained silent, studying the shift in her tone. She was always his softest child. Warm, bright, and kind like her late mother.
Business had never appealed to her. She didn't thirst for profit or legacy. But right now, there was a spark of sothing unfamiliar in her voice. He knew that this spark didn't co from Chloe alone.
Soone was behind her sudden interest in business.
"Tell honestly," Jonathan's eyes squinted. "You didn't think of this, didn't you?" he asked calmly.
Chloe hesitated for a heartbeat. Her eyes flickered downward, then back up to et her father's gaze.
"I did," she said softly but firmly.
Jonathan blinked once. A quiet pause lingered in the air.
"Really?" he asked, voice calm but filled with disbelief.
"Yes, father" Chloe replied, her shoulders straightening a little. "I said to soone that investing in that company's stock was a good move... and I promised that soone his investnt would rise." Her voice carried a faint nervousness, but her conviction remained steady. "I don't want to break that promise."
Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His eyes stayed on Chloe, reading between every word she said. Hearing her explanation, he knew that this wasn't about business for her.
It was personal.
Jonathan respected that, but he was still a businessman.
"Chloe," he said slowly, "you know I don't move our money based on rumors or emotional promises. But..." A smile ghosted his lips. "You're not just my daughter. You're a Lancaster. And if you're willing to stake your word on this... then so will I."
Chloe's eyes lit up with hope, but he raised a hand before she could thank him.
"However," he continued, his tone shifting into a firm one, one that she'd heard in countless boardrooms, "I'll invest. Imdiately. I won't hesitate but in return..."
Jonathan paused for emphasis.
"You'll have to pass your upcoming economics exam with a score of at least 90."
Chloe's jaw dropped slightly. "90?"
Jonathan nodded.
"If you want to trust your instincts, you have to trust in your own capabilities too. Business is built on promises, yes—but it survives on performance and statistics. Do you understand?"
A mont of silence passed. Then Chloe sat up straighter, her lips pulling into a smile.
"Deal, Dad."
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