After three years of silence, I received a letter from my dad. I was delighted and wanted to open it, but my billionaire grandfather said “wait!”. I asked “what’s wrong?” he pointed and said “can’t you see?”. I looked closer and what I saw shocked me!
Chapter 1: A Letter from the Dead
Greenwich in January was a pristine white blanket of snow and fog. The Vance mansion stood tall amidst the ancient pines, majestic like a mausoleum for the living.
I, Avery Vance, stood before my grandfather’s desk. My hands trembled as I held the cream-colored envelope, the familiar scent of my father’s tobacco still lingering on the paper. Three years had passed since my father, David Vance, vanished without a trace after a heated argument with my grandfather over control of the corporation. The police had given up, the family had declared him dead, but I had never believed it.
And now, this letter… it bore a New Orleans postmark, dated three days ago.
“Grandpa! Look!” I exclaimed, tears welling up. “It’s Father’s handwriting. He’s still alive! I have to open it now.”
I was about to tear the edge of the envelope when an old, thin, but vise-like hand gripped my wrist tightly.
“Wait!”
The voice of Silas Vance—my grandfather, the notoriously ruthless steel magnate of Wall Street—rang out, deep and menacing. He didn’t look at me; his cold, gray eyes were fixed on the envelope.
Chapter 2: “Don’t you see?”
“Grandpa, what are you doing?” I struggled. “This is the only news from my father in three years!”
Silas didn’t let go. He pointed his index finger at a spot on the envelope, right next to the eagle stamp.
“Don’t you see?” he asked, his voice tinged with a strange disgust.
I froze. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself so I could look more closely at the envelope under the strong halogen desk lamp. At first, I only saw my father’s neatly written words. But when I looked at the edge of the stamp, my heart skipped a beat.
The stamp wasn’t glued on with ordinary adhesive. A thin, transparent film was sticking out at the edge. And beneath that film, there was a tiny, dark reddish-brown streak, as small as a pinhead.
“What is that, sir?” I whispered.
“Look more closely at the postmark, Avery,” Silas hissed through clenched teeth.
I picked up the magnifying glass from his desk. Under the magnifying lens, the truth began to reveal itself like a demon emerging from the shadows.
The postmark: It read “New Orleans,” but the area code printed underneath was 06830 – the area code for Greenwich, Connecticut. This letter had never left that town.
The reddish-brown streak: It wasn’t ink. It was dried blood.
Inside the envelope: Through the thin paper under the bright light, I couldn’t see the handwritten pages. I saw a flat, hard, and shiny object. A photograph.
Chapter 3: The Climax – The Ghost in the Photograph
“Open it, Avery,” Silas released my hand, his voice suddenly weary and aged. “But prepare yourself. The sender of this letter doesn’t want to convey love. He wants to send an indictment.”
I used a paper cutter to carefully cut the edge of the envelope. Inside fell a single Polaroid photograph.
It was a picture of my father, David. He was sitting on a wooden chair, his face gaunt, his eyes closed as if asleep, but his pale skin betrayed a more brutal truth. The background was a dark cellar with familiar red brick walls.
“This is… our family’s wine cellar?” I felt a bitter taste in my throat. “Is Father somewhere in this mansion?”
“Look closely at the mirror behind your father,” Silas whispered.
I picked up the photograph, my hands trembling. In the corner, reflected in an old mirror hanging on the brick wall behind my father, I saw the photographer.
He wasn’t wearing a mask. He stood tall, holding an old Polaroid camera.
It was Silas Vance.
But not the old Silas standing beside me. It was Silas from three years ago, in the gray suit he wore on the very day my father disappeared.
Chapter 4: The Twist – The Testament of Silence
I recoiled, staring at my grandfather in horror. “You… you did this? You held Father captive for three years right under my nose?”
Silas looked at me, a bitter, faint smile on his face. “You haven’t looked closely enough, Avery. Look at the watch on my wrist in the photograph.”
I looked at the photograph again. The Patek Philippe watch on the man’s wrist in the mirror showed 10:15 AM on January 12, 2026.
That means… this photo was taken this morning.
“You still don’t understand?” Silas sighed. “I’ve been standing here with you all morning. I didn’t go down to the cellar. The person in the photo… isn’t me.”
I was stunned. “If it’s not you… then who could look so much like you? Who could wear your suit and your watch?”
“My twin brother,” Silas whispered. “Elias Vance. The man the whole world – and you – believed died in a plane crash 30 years ago. He’s back. And this letter isn’t from your father to you. It’s a challenge from Elias to me.”
Chapter 5: The Rise of the Forgotten One
Just then, the mansion’s sound system suddenly switched on. A voice
A voice rang out, exactly like Silas’s grandfather’s, but with a more insane and chilling tone.
“Hello, brother,” the voice echoed through the library. “How do you like my early birthday present? David still looks dashing in my ‘hibernation’ collection, doesn’t he?”
Silas gripped the armrest of his chair, his face contorted with rage. “What do you want, Elias?”
“I want what belongs to me, Silas. The name Vance, this corporation, and your clever granddaughter. Avery, do you want to know the truth about why your father ‘disappeared’? Your grandfather sacrificed your father to protect the rotten reputation of this family when he discovered I was still alive.”
Silas turned to look at me, his eyes filled with remorse. “Avery, I tried to hide you… I kept your father confined in a safe place so Elias wouldn’t find him. But it seems… that devil has infiltrated our system.”
Chapter 6: The Extreme Climax – The Migration into Darkness
“Grandpa, where is Father?” I shouted.
“In the West cellar. The secret cellar area that only your father and I know,” Silas pulled a small pistol from a drawer. “Let’s go, Avery. Before Elias finishes his ‘work’.”
We ran down to the cellar. A cold, musty air enveloped us. When we reached the door of the secret cellar, Silas stopped.
The door was wide open.
Inside, my father was still sitting there in the wooden chair, exactly as in the photograph. But when I rushed forward, I realized it was just a wax effigy, so meticulously crafted it was disgusting. A tablet was attached to the chest of the dummy, counting down.
00:15… 00:14…
“It’s a trap!” Silas shouted, pushing me toward the emergency exit.
A small explosion occurred, not enough to collapse the basement, but enough to release a strange purple smoke. I drifted into unconsciousness in my grandfather’s arms.
Chapter 7: The Conclusion – The Beginning of a New Nightmare
When I woke up, I found myself lying on a luxurious bed in a strange place. Silas sat beside me, his face covered in scratches.
“Where’s Father, Grandpa?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
Silas was silent for a long time before handing me a new piece of paper. “Elias took David away. He left this will. He transferred all of the corporation’s assets to an anonymous account in your name, Avery. But with one condition…”
I looked at the paper. It was a financial slavery contract. I was now the owner of the Vance Corporation, but every decision I made had to be approved by an “anonymous advisor.”
My father’s letter from three years later wasn’t a rescue. It was the golden chain that Elias had placed around the Vance family.
I looked out the window, watching the shadows of the Connecticut pine forest swallow the sunlight. I realized that my father’s silence over the past three years had been to protect me from the monster with my grandfather’s face. And now, that monster had officially become the controller of my life.
The truth not only shocked me. It had completely destroyed the world I knew. And this… was only the beginning of a bloody game of thrones that I could never afford to lose.
Author’s concluding remarks: The story concludes with a dramatic power shift. The climax lies in identifying the real sender through the reflection in the photograph. A realistic conclusion for the tycoons: The most fearsome enemy always bears the face of a loved one, and wealth is sometimes just a magnificent glass cage for imprisoned souls.
