TRILLIONAIRE'S COLD REVENGE

John Ravenshore

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, but the cold still clung to John’s skin. He could feel it deep in his bones. He sat hunched on a bench in Greywall Park, breathing softly, his hands shaking as he held the envelope the strange man had given him. It felt too heavy for just a few pieces of paper; like it carried something more. The man in the dark gray coat was already gone, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had come, leaving John sitting alone under a flickering streetlight.

John turned the envelope over in his hands. It was smooth and black, with a silver symbol pressed on the front. The symbol showed a raven with its wings spread, holding a scepter in its claws. It looked familiar. He had seen it somewhere before; maybe in a magazine or on the news. Then he remembered. Thus symbol belonged to a man named Howard Ravenshore.

Howard Ravenshore was no ordinary man. He was one of the richest people in the world; so rich it didn’t even make sense. People said he could control governments, move markets, or feed entire countries if he wanted to. John had read stories about him, always with curiosity, sometimes with jealousy. But never in his life had he imagined holding something connected to a man like that.

Could this envelope really be from him?

With numb fingers, John carefully opened it.

Inside was a single black card. It felt smooth and cold. The same silver raven symbol was on it. There was no name, no number; just that symbol, glowing faintly under the streetlight. Behind the card was a folded letter on thick, cream-colored paper.

John’s heart started beating faster. Slowly, he opened the letter, his hands shaking. His eyes were tired and sore, but he forced himself to read the neat, beautiful handwriting.

"My Dear John,

If you’re reading this, I’m no longer alive. My name is Howard Ravenshore, and I’m your grandfather. I regret that we never met. I should have been there to guide you, but I made choices that kept us apart. Still, you are my family. You are my heir, and the future of the Ravenshore name."

John froze.

Grandfather? He didn’t know what to think. His mind was spinning, searching for any memory of a grandfather. But his mother had never spoken about her parents; only about the struggles they faced. Had she known about this man? Had she hidden him?

His eyes filled with tears as he read the next part.

"All the wealth and power of the Ravenshore family now belongs to you. Inside this envelope is a card. It’s fully funded, with no spending limit. It’s connected to accounts that hold more money than you can imagine. But it also comes with responsibility. You are not just an heir. You are now the leader of our family’s empire.

The world will try to break you, John, as it already has. But you are stronger than you realize.

Go to the address written on the back of this letter. There, you’ll meet Ms. Evelyn Carver, your advisor and guardian. She will help you take control of your inheritance and introduce you to the world you now belong to. Trust her, but trust your own instincts more. The Ravenshore name has both friends and enemies.

—Howard Ravenshore"

John’s hands were shaking so much he almost dropped the letter. He turned it over and saw the address written neatly on the back:

47 Obsidian Row, Suite 900 — Vantage District.

That name, Vantage District, made his stomach twist. It was the most expensive part of the city, filled with tall glass buildings and powerful people. He had no place there. Not in his dirty clothes, not with his bruised face and broken ribs.

He looked down at the black card. It felt heavy and cold in his hand. The idea of being a trillionaire sounded insane, like a dream. But the card felt real. Could it save his mother?

He thought of her lying in that old hospital bed, weak and pale, the heart monitor beeping slowly. The doctors had said it would cost half a million dollars to treat her. That was nothing to a man like Howard Ravenshore. If this card was real, it could save her life.

But doubt crept in.

What if this is a trick? What if the Prestwicks are behind this, trying to make him look even more foolish?

No. The letter, the card, the man who brought them; it was all too real, too carefully planned. It had to be true.

He stood up, pain shooting through his side. The rain had stopped, but the air was still wet and cold. He checked his pockets. The five-dollar bill from the old man. The hundred-dollar bill from the kind taxi driver. A few small bills he got while begging. All together, he had one hundred and twenty-two dollars.

It wasn’t much, but it might be enough.

He walked out of Greywall Park, wincing with every step, until he reached the street. A line of taxis waited near the curb. He walked up to the closest one.

The driver, a man with a gray beard, looked at him through the window.

“You got money?” he asked.

John nodded and held out the wrinkled cash. “A hundred and twenty-two dollars. Please. I need to go to 47 Obsidian Row, in the Vantage District.”

The driver raised his eyebrows. “Vantage District? You sure?” He looked John up and down. “You don’t look like someone who belongs there.”

“Please,” John said, his voice shaking. “It’s really important. Life or death.”

The driver sighed. “Alright. Get in. Just don’t bleed on my seats.”

John climbed in, holding the letter and card tightly. The taxi drove off, passing through the city’s glowing streets. Crowded areas gave way to cleaner, quieter roads lined with tall buildings and bright lights. As they neared the Vantage District, everything looked richer, shinier, colder.

John’s heart beat faster. What would he find at Obsidian Row? Who was Evelyn Carver? What would it mean to lead the Ravenshore family?

The taxi stopped in front of a tall glass building that sparkled in the city lights. A gold sign above the door read:

47 OBSIDIAN ROW.

John reached into his pocket to hand the money to the driver.

But the man looked at him, then pushed the hundred-dollar bill back into John’s hand.

“Keep it,” he said. “Looks like you’re walking into something big. You might need it.”

John’s throat tightened. “Thank you,” he whispered.

He stepped out into the night. The lobby inside was grand; huge glass walls, shiny black marble floors, and bright lights everywhere. Everything was clean, quiet, and expensive.

A woman sat behind the front desk, dressed in a neat navy-blue uniform. She looked up as John walked toward her. At first, she just looked curious. But then her face changed. She looked concerned.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone professional but cautious.

“I’m here to see Evelyn Carver,” John said, his voice rough and weak. “Suite 900. I… I was told to come.”

The woman behind the desk looked him over, her eyes narrowing when she saw his bloody shirt and bruised face.

“Name?” she asked.

“John Whitaker.”

She tapped quickly on a slim tablet, then paused. Her eyes widened slightly. Without saying a word to him, she picked up the phone and spoke quietly.

“Mr. Whitaker is here… Yes, right away.”

She hung up and looked back at him.

“Take the private elevator on the right,” she said. “It’ll take you straight to Suite 900. Ms. Carver is expecting you.”

Expecting me? John’s stomach turned. How did she already know he was coming?

He didn’t ask. He was too tired. He nodded, shuffled toward the elevator, and stepped inside when the doors slid open. The elevator was silent and clean, with golden lights and mirrored walls. He gripped the letter and the black card tightly as the elevator rose fast, the floor numbers flashing past too quickly for his thoughts to catch up.

The doors opened to a large, stunning office. Tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling, showing off a sparkling view of the city skyline. A woman stood at the far end, her back to him. She was tall, wearing a sharp black suit, her silver hair pulled back neatly. She turned around slowly when she heard the elevator.

Her eyes met his. They were cold, clear, and sharp.

“John Whitaker,” she said in a calm but firm voice. “I’m Evelyn Carver. Welcome to the Ravenshore estate.”

John almost collapsed. His legs felt weak. He took a small step forward and held out the letter.

“This… this says I’m Howard Ravenshore’s heir. Is that true?”

Evelyn’s lips curved into a small, unreadable smile.

“It’s true. Howard Ravenshore was your grandfather. He left everything to you. That card in your hand gives you access to all of it; trillions of dollars. But it’s more than just money. You’re now in charge of a legacy that includes power, responsibility… and danger.”

John felt dizzy. “But… why me? I didn’t even know him. I’m not important. I’m just… me.”

“You are not just ‘you,’” Evelyn said firmly. “You are a Ravenshore. And the world is about to find out what that means.”

She pointed toward a soft leather chair across from a smooth, black desk.

“Sit down. We have a lot to talk about. Starting with your mother’s surgery.”

John’s heart skipped a beat. “You know about my mom?”

“I know everything about you,” Evelyn replied, her voice now gentler. “The hospital has been contacted. The money is already being sent. Your mother will be taken care of.”

Tears came to John’s eyes. He couldn’t speak. His throat tightened with relief.

“Thank you,” he whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Thank you so much…”

Evelyn raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t thank me yet. This is just the beginning.

John stared at her, and he hesitated for a while before asking, “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Your mother chose to leave the family years ago,” Evelyn said gently. “Howard made mistakes. He pushed people away, especially the ones he cared about most. When she left, she asked never to be contacted again. Howard honored that... until the end.”

John’s heart twisted. He thought of all the years his mother had struggled, the pain she had hidden. She had known. She had walked away from all of this.

“Why now?” he asked.

“Because Howard knew his time was short,” Evelyn said. “He planned everything. The card, the letter, even this meeting. He wanted to give you what was rightfully yours, but more than that, he wanted to give you a choice.”

“A choice?”

“Yes,” she said. “You can walk away. Take the card, use the money, live your life in peace. Or… you can step into the Ravenshore name. That path will be harder. More dangerous. But it’s what he hoped for.”

John looked down at the card in his hand. It felt heavier than ever. He thought of everything; the laughter at the Prestwick party, Eleanor’s cruel smile, Winston dumping champagne on him, and the way Richard had humiliated him. He thought of how he’d begged in the streets. How people ignored him. How his mother was still fighting for her life. He could just take this black card, walk away, and start a good life with his mother. But by doing so, he wouldn't be able to get revenge on everyone who had wronged him, especially the Prestwicks.

“I am ready to step into the Ravenshore name,” he said with determination and finality in his voice.

Evelyn gave a small nod. There was a glimmer of approval in her eyes.

“Good,” she said. “Then let’s begin.”

Evelyn slid a tablet across the desk toward him. The screen lit up, showing a dark interface with the silver raven crest glowing at the top.

“We’re going to begin the transfer of assets,” Evelyn said. Her voice was clear and firm. “The Ravenshore fortune is massive; trillions of dollars in cash, properties, businesses, and investments. But this isn’t just about money. You’re not just inheriting wealth, John. You’re taking on a legacy. A position of power.”

John swallowed hard. His mouth was dry. “How do I prove I’m really the heir?”

Evelyn tapped the screen of the tablet, prompting a small camera to rise from the tablet and a light blinked on.

“We start with a facial scan,” she said. “The Ravenshore system uses high-level security. Only you can unlock it.”

John leaned in slowly. The light swept across his face, scanning every angle, even though his eye was swollen and his face covered in bruises.

The screen beeped and a message appeared:

IDENTITY CONFIRMED: JOHN WHITAKER

John stared at it, stunned. This was really happening. It wasn’t a prank. It wasn’t a dream.

Evelyn motioned to the screen again. “Now you’ll sign the documents. These cover everything: ownership of accounts, control of businesses, access to all funds. You’ll sign digitally, and the system will link everything to your profile.”

She handed him a slim stylus.

John’s hand shook as he took it. The contracts appeared one by one, each filled with complicated legal terms. He didn’t understand most of it. But he signed them anyway. His name appeared in glowing blue letters with each signature. After each one, the tablet made a soft chime.

“You’re now fully linked to the Ravenshore vault system,” Evelyn said calmly. “Only your face, your voice, and your fingerprint can open it. It’s all yours now.”

John sat back in his chair, breathing hard. “That’s it? It’s done?”

“It’s done,” Evelyn said with a small smile.

She opened a drawer and took out a sleek, black phone. It was smooth and heavy-looking, with the same raven crest etched into its back.

“This is your phone,” she said, placing it in front of him. “It already has everything you need. The Ravenshore banking app is installed. You’ll use it to check your balance, make transfers, and manage your money.”

John picked it up. The phone felt cool in his hand, like a piece of metal pulled from ice. He turned it on. A single app appeared on the screen; a silver raven against a black background, labeled Ravenshore Vault.

He tapped it.

The app asked for a facial scan. He leaned in. The light passed over his face once again, and the app opened.

His eyes widened.

Balance: $10,000,000,000.00

John froze. He couldn’t breathe. He stared at the number. Ten billion dollars. His chest rose and fell fast. His head spun. He blinked, thinking it was a mistake.

“No,” he whispered. “No way… This can’t be real.”

“It’s real,” Evelyn said gently. “That’s your monthly allowance. Ten billion dollars will be added to your account every month, for your personal use. Spend it however you like.”

John turned to look at her, eyes wide with shock.

“Ten billion? Every month?”

He could barely speak. Just hours ago, he was begging strangers on the street, grateful for every dollar. He had cried over a five-dollar bill. And now this? This kind of money didn’t make sense.

Evelyn leaned closer, her voice calm but firm. “The card you’re holding; the black one, is also active. It has no limit. Use it for anything big: buying property, investing, traveling. It’s connected directly to the main Ravenshore vault. The phone app is just for everyday use.”

John stared at the card again, feeling its smooth surface press into his palm.

All of this… was his now.

He shook his head, his breath hitching. “This is too much. It’s… it’s not real. I’m nobody. I’m just—”

“You’re not nobody,” Evelyn interrupted, her tone sharp but not unkind. “You’re a Ravenshore. This feels like a dream, I know. But it’s not. Your grandfather spent decades building this empire. He spent years sacrificing, strategizing, outwitting enemies. And you, John, have suffered too. So, you deserve this.”

John tried to respond, but no words came out. He looked down at the glowing phone screen, at the heavy black card, and then up at Evelyn’s serious face. In his mind, he saw his mother; her tired smile, her weak voice in that hospital bed. The surgery she needed was now paid for. She was safe. That alone was worth everything.

But this wasn’t just about saving his mother. This was trillions. A name. A legacy. A position of power most people couldn’t even imagine. It was so big, so far beyond anything he ever thought possible, that he felt like he was drowning in gold.

Evelyn’s expression softened as she watched him, her smile tinged with understanding. “You’re overwhelmed. That’s expected. But you’ll adapt. You must. Because there’s more.”

John’s head snapped up. “More?”

She nodded, folding her hands on the desk. “You are not just inheriting wealth. You’re taking control of the Ravenshore empire, starting with its crown jewel: Ravenshore Industries.”

John's eyes grew wide, and he stopped breathing for a moment. Ravenshore Industries. The name was famous, known for luxury and high-tech products that most people could only dream of. The company ruled the world market for expensive cars; supercars worth millions, usually driven by super-wealthy billionaires and powerful sheikhs. Its phones and gadgets were stylish and rare, used only by the richest people, because their prices were far too high for regular buyers. Ravenshore Industries wasn’t just any company; it was a sign of wealth and power. Its products were what the wealthiest people in the world wanted most.

“You’re kidding,” he said, his voice trembling. “That’s the biggest company on Earth.”

“And it’s now yours,” Evelyn replied firmly. “In one week, you’ll be introduced as the new CEO. The world will watch you step into your role as head of not just Ravenshore Industries, but over five hundred other companies linked to it. From tech to aerospace, you’ll be at the center of everything.”

John stared at her, stunned. His body tensed. The people at the Prestwick estate had laughed at him, insulted him, thrown him out like garbage. And now he was supposed to stand in front of the world as the new leader of a global empire?

His hands shook. The phone almost slipped from his grasp.

He swallowed hard, his bruised face set with a flicker of resolve. “So, what do I do next?”

Evelyn’s smile returned, sharp and approving. “You can do whatever you want. But in one week, you’ll step into the light as the heir to Ravenshore Industries. Until then, feel free to enjoy your new life.”

John nodded slowly, his mind still spinning but his heart steadying. He thought of Eleanor’s cold attitude towards him, Winston’s cruel laughter, the years of being called a parasite, a failure. He thought of his mother, fighting for her life because he’d had nothing. And now, he had everything, more than he could fathom. The phone in his hand, the card in his pocket, the name Ravenshore, they were his now. Now, he had the power to get his revenge.

Suddenly, a ringtone broke the silence.

Startled, John pulled out his old phone from his jacket pocket. The screen lit up. It was Eleanor.

He glanced at Evelyn. “Excuse me,” he said softly, then answered the call.

“Where the hell are you, John?” Eleanor’s voice snapped through the speaker, angry and impatient.

“I’m on the street your father threw me into this afternoon,” he replied coldly; colder than he had ever spoken to her before.

There was a pause, then a sigh. “Whatever,” she muttered. He could almost see her rolling her eyes. “I’m calling to tell you the Prestwick matriarch is holding an urgent family meeting. You have to be there. Get to the house now.”

Before John could ask why, the line went dead.

She’d hung up on him.