PART 1: THE RAIN OF THE PAST

Chapter 1: An Empire on Ashes

Seattle in November was always shrouded in a gray, cold curtain of rain. But inside the 20,000-square-foot mansion of the Sterling family in Medina, the air was always warm and filled with the scent of Jo Malone candles.

I am Daniel Sterling, 22, the only son of tech billionaire Richard Sterling. My father is a living legend in the Silicon Valley of the North. From a bankrupt man, drowning in debt and sleeping under a bridge, he rose up to build a software empire worth tens of billions of dollars.

But the memories of those days under the bridge never faded for me. I remember the bone-chilling cold of the concrete, the stench of garbage, and most of all, the back of my mother – Catherine – as she carried her suitcase into a taxi, leaving the two of us behind on a pouring rainy night 15 years ago.

“Daniel, what are you thinking about?”

Elena’s gentle voice pulled me back to reality. Elena is my father’s new wife, an Italian woman with a kind heart and amazing cooking skills. She came to my father when he had started to succeed, but she never spent lavishly or acted arrogantly. She loved me like her own son, making up for the emotional void I felt throughout my adolescence.

“It’s nothing, Aunt Elena,” I smiled, taking the hot cocoa from her hand. “I was just watching the rain.”

My father, Richard, was sitting in an armchair reading a financial report. His hair had grayed significantly, but his eyes remained sharp and steadfast. He looked at me, then at Elena with affectionate eyes.

“Today is our 10th wedding anniversary,” he said, folding the newspaper. “We should open a really good bottle of wine.”

The family atmosphere was warm when the doorbell rang.

The ringing was urgent, unlike the demeanor of the high-class guests who usually visited our home. Alfred, the butler, went to open the door.

A gust of cold wind rushed into the house, carrying moisture and a woman.

She was soaked from head to toe. Her fake fur coat was matted, and smeared makeup distorted her face. But I still recognized her. Even though 15 years had passed, even though wrinkles had etched deep into the corners of her eyes, that sharp and somewhat calculating beauty was unmistakable.

It was my mother. Catherine.

“Richard…” She wheezed, her voice trembling from the cold (or from acting). “I’m back.”

The vast living room fell into a dead silence. My father stood up abruptly, the wine glass in his hand threatening to spill. Elena went pale; she took a step back, her hand unconsciously gripping mine.

“What are you doing here?” I spoke first, my voice icy. The hatred I thought I had buried suddenly rose up powerfully.

Catherine looked at me, her eyes teary. “Daniel… my son. You’ve grown so much. I’m sorry… I’m truly sorry.”

She rushed forward intending to hug me, but I backed away.

“Don’t touch me,” I snapped. “You died in my heart the night you left with that rich lover.”

“No, Daniel, you misunderstand,” Catherine sobbed, collapsing onto the marble floor. “I left because… because I wanted what was best for the two of you. I didn’t want to be a burden. I left to find a way to earn money to send back…”

“Enough!” My father shouted. His voice echoed through the hall. He stepped in front of Catherine, looking down at the woman kneeling at his feet.

“For 15 years, you never sent a letter, never made a phone call,” my father said, his voice deep and steely. “Now you come back here, when I have everything, and say you left for our own good?”

Catherine looked up, tears mixing with rain. “Richard, I know I was wrong. But I was tricked. That man… he swindled all my money and abandoned me in Europe. I had to wash dishes, sweep trash to survive day by day. I walked hundreds of miles to get here. I… I still love you. I want to rekindle our old love. I want us to be a family like before.”

I looked at her, feeling nauseous. A clumsy play. She was out of time, out of money, and now she wanted to return to “dig for gold” again.

I turned to Elena. She was standing silently, eyes red, but said nothing. She was too kind to fight or scold anyone.

“Dad,” I said. “Kick her out. Call security.”

But my father didn’t do that. He stared at Catherine, his gaze shifting from anger to an unpredictable state. Was there something like… pity? Or nostalgia?

“You want to rekindle our old love?” My father asked again, his voice light.

“That’s right, Richard,” Catherine nodded furiously, a gleam of hope in her eyes. “I know you still have feelings for me. We were each other’s first love. Give me a chance to make up for it.”

My father was silent for a long time. Then he suddenly smiled. That smile made me shudder. It wasn’t a happy smile, but the smile of an old wolf watching prey walk into a trap.

“Alright,” my father said.

“What?” Elena and I exclaimed in unison.

“Richard?” Elena looked at her husband, disbelieving her ears.

My father turned to Elena, his eyes softening, but still firm. “Elena, you and Daniel go up to your rooms first. I need to resolve this privately with Catherine.”

“But Dad…” I tried to protest.

“Go to your room!” My father ordered. This was a rare occasion he used the tone of a Corporation Chairman with me.

I grumpily pulled Elena’s hand and went upstairs. From the stairs, I looked down. Catherine was standing up, adjusting her dress, her face shining with unconcealed triumph.

Chapter 2: Conversations Behind the Door

I took Elena to her bedroom (now a separate room since my father would surely not sleep there tonight).

“Are you okay, Aunt Elena?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” Elena smiled weakly. “Your father… he always has a reason for his actions. I trust him.”

I didn’t. Men, no matter how smart, are easily softened by old flames, especially a first love full of torment. I was afraid my father would be blinded by her honeyed words.

I didn’t go to my room. I tiptoed back to the second-floor hallway, overlooking the main hall.

My father and Catherine were standing there.

“Follow me,” my father said.

He led her not into the living room, but straight toward the master bedroom on the 1st floor – the mansion’s most luxurious room, which Dad often used for afternoon naps or when working late.

The heavy oak door closed. The click of the lock clack rang out clearly in the silent night.

My heart pounded. What were they planning to do in there? Really rekindle their love? Right on the night of his 10th wedding anniversary with Elena?

I tiptoed down the stairs, pressing my ear against the wooden door. I knew this action was despicable, but I couldn’t let this family be destroyed again.

At first, I heard Catherine crying and recounting her woes. She apologized, then she flattered him.

“This room is so beautiful, Richard. Just like our dream from the old days…”

“Take off your coat, you’re soaked,” my father’s voice rang out, deep and murky.

“You still care about me like always…”

Then the space fell into silence. A silence that lasted until it was suffocating.

Suddenly, strange sounds began to echo.

It didn’t sound like romantic lovemaking.

First was the sound of rough rustling. Panting. Groaning… but groans of effort, of greed, not pleasure.

“More… faster…” My father’s voice urged, sounding cold and cruel.

“I… I’m so tired… too much…” Catherine’s voice gasped, sounding like someone exhausted.

“Don’t stop. You said you wanted to make up for it? This is how you make up for it. Continue!”

The rustling sound got faster and harder. Accompanied by thud thud sounds like paper hitting each other, the clinking of metal falling on the floor.

My mind spun. What the hell were they doing in there? Was my father torturing her? Or was she serving him in some sick way in exchange for forgiveness?

About 30 minutes passed. Those strange sounds continued, interspersed with my father’s maniacal laughter and Catherine’s sobbing.

“Enough! I can’t do it anymore!” Catherine screamed.

“Not enough! You have 5 more minutes. If not finished, you will leave empty-handed!”

Empty-handed?

I stepped back, utterly confused.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

PART 2: THE ROOM OF TRUTH

Chapter 3: The Distortion of Greed

The door flew open so hard it banged against the wall. Catherine rushed out like someone escaping from hell.

She was still wearing the same soaked clothes, but her hair was exponentially messier. Her face was flushed red, sweat pouring down, washing away the remaining makeup, revealing wrinkled and pale skin.

But what surprised me most was her attitude. No look of satisfaction from a rekindled romance. Only utter shame. Humiliating disgrace. She clutched a small canvas bag to her chest, keeping her head down, not daring to look at me even once.

“Mother?” I exclaimed.

Catherine jumped. She looked at me with panic-stricken eyes, then without a word, she rushed straight to the main door, running into the rainy night, faster than when she arrived.

I stood frozen there.

My father stepped out of the bedroom. He adjusted his shirt collar, his expression strangely calm. He watched the silhouette of his ex-wife fading away, then turned to look at me.

“Daniel, you haven’t slept yet?”

“Dad… what did you do to her?” I stammered. “I heard… strange noises.”

My father laughed. A relieved laugh. He patted my shoulder.

“Come in here. I’ll show you.”

I walked into the master bedroom. The scene before me made my jaw drop.

The room was messy like a battlefield. But not a battlefield of love.

On the vast King-size bed, and spilling onto the floor, was money.

Mountains of cash. Stacks of 1 dollar, 5 dollars, 10 dollars, odd, old, crumpled bills. And mixed in were thousands of metal coins of all kinds.

“What… what is this?” I asked.

“This is $100,000 in cash, all in small bills that I had staff exchange from banks and supermarkets all week to prepare for a charity project,” my father explained, stepping over to pick up a stack of bills. “But today it was used for a different purpose.”

“What did you make her do?”

“I gave her a test,” my father sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze distant. “I told her: ‘Catherine, if you want to come back, I agree. But first, you must prove you are not in it for the money. I will dump this pile of money here. Within 30 minutes, count and stack them neatly. If you finish, I will believe you truly want to build a family. But if you want money, you can take as much as you like, stuff it on your person, in your pockets, as long as within 30 minutes you walk out that door. After 30 minutes, if you are still here, you will not get a single cent and no chance to return’.”

I was stunned. A cruel test striking at greed.

“And what did she choose?” Even though I guessed, I still wanted to hear it from Dad’s mouth.

“Didn’t you see the bag she hugged when running out?” My father smiled sadly. “As soon as she saw the pile of money, her eyes lit up like car headlights. She forgot all the hollow words of love she just said. She rushed into the pile of money like a hungry beast. She scavenged, stuffed money into her pockets, bra, shoes… The sounds you heard were her wrestling with her own greed.”

“I turned on the countdown timer. Every minute that passed, I urged her. I wanted to see if she had any self-respect left. I wanted to see if she would stop to talk to me like a human being.”

He shook his head. “But no. She just kept her head down picking up money. She groaned from fatigue, because the pile of money was too big and the bag too small. At the last minute, fearing she would lose everything, she hugged that bag of small bills and ran, not bothering to look back at me even once.”

I looked at the chaotic pile of money on the bed. Turns out, the value of “old love and old feelings,” the value of family reunion to my mother was only wrapped in a bag of crumpled small bills. She chose a few thousand dollars instead of the chance to become a billionaire’s wife, or simply my mother. Greed had blinded her to the point of stupidity.

“Did you know she would choose the money?” I asked.

“I knew,” he sighed. “Human nature is hard to change, Daniel. Especially when they once abandoned their children because of poverty. I did this not to humiliate her. I did this so she would humiliate herself. So she would never have the face to come back and disturb our lives again.”

The door creaked open. Elena stood there; she had heard the whole story. She walked in, said nothing, just silently hugged my father from behind.

“You’re cruel,” Elena whispered, but her voice was full of love.

“I have to be cruel to protect my family,” my father held Elena’s hand. “And for Daniel to see the truth clearly.”

Chapter 4: End and Beginning

That night, the rain stopped.

I stood by the window, looking out at the main gate. The shadow of that woman was gone. She had disappeared along with the bag of small bills, just like she disappeared 15 years ago. The only difference was that this time, I no longer felt pain or hatred.

I only felt relieved.

The ghost of the past had truly vanished. She had cut the final tie with her own cheap greed.

The next morning, I had breakfast with Dad and Elena. The atmosphere in the house was lighter than ever.

“Daniel,” my father said while cutting bread. “The remaining money in the room… I will donate to the orphanage. Do you want to go with me?”

“I’ll go,” I smiled.

I looked at Elena, my wonderful stepmother. She was pouring coffee for Dad, her eyes sparkling with happiness. I realized that family isn’t just about blood relations. Family are the people who stay by your side when the storm hits, and hold your hand when the sky clears.

Catherine gave birth to me, but Elena and Dad were the ones who gave me a life.

And that rainy night, when my mother shamefully left with a bag of small bills, she didn’t know she had left me a much greater fortune: It was the truth, and complete peace with the people who truly loved me.

THE END