Billionaire Lives with His Gateman for 10 Year , But Never Knew He Was a Ghost!
The wind blew gently across Emberwood Lake, its surface shimmering under the moonlight, calm yet heavy with memories. Mark stood at the edge, his shoes sinking into the damp soil, the cold water lapping at his feet. His chest heaved as he stared at the dark waves, tears mixing with the night air.
“John… Lilly…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I failed you both. I should have been there. I should have known. I don’t deserve to be here while you rest in silence.” He took another step forward, the water splashing against his trousers.
Behind him, Helen’s cries broke the night. “Mark, stop! Please!” She ran to him, clutching his arm tightly, her tears streaming uncontrollably. Her voice shook with desperation. “You are not the one meant to drown, Mark! You are the one left to speak for them! Don’t let the lake take you too. Don’t leave me here with their story unfinished.”
Mark closed his eyes, the photograph of himself and John clutched tightly in his hand. He could almost feel John’s presence at his side, the way he always stood quietly at the gate. In the distance, he thought he heard the faint sound of a child’s laughter—soft, sad, but gentle.
His voice cracked. “I was blind, Helen. I had everything… but I was the poorest man alive. I lost my family before I even knew them. And now, every time I breathe, it feels like I’m stealing air from John… from Lilly.”
Helen dropped to her knees in the wet sand, sobbing harder. “No, Mark! You are alive because their story is not finished. If you die here, who will tell the world? Who will clear John’s name as a hero? Who will speak Lilly’s name as your sister? If you give up, their truth will be buried forever.”
Mark shook his head slowly, staring at the endless dark water. His voice was hoarse, broken. “But maybe if I join them… maybe they will forgive me.”
Helen gripped his arm tighter, her voice rising in anguish. “They have already forgiven you, Mark! John stayed by your gate for ten years, not to punish you, but to guard you. Lilly’s spirit came, not to curse you, but to remind you of love. They don’t want you dead. They want you to live for them.” Her cries echoed across the quiet lake, her words clinging to the night.
Mark’s body trembled. He looked down at his reflection in the water—and for a moment, he didn’t see himself. He saw John, standing there in uniform, calm as always. And beside him, Lilly, clutching her teddy bear, smiling faintly. Mark’s heart shattered. He fell to his knees at the water’s edge, his hands covering his face. “My brother… my sister… I see you. I hear you. Forgive me for forgetting. Forgive me for being blind.” The lake rippled softly, as if answering him.
Helen knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders despite her own shaking body. “Mark… don’t give the lake another life. Give it a memory. Let this place no longer be a grave, but a place of remembrance. Build them peace, not pain.” Mark lowered his head, his tears falling into the water. Slowly, he pulled the photograph of himself and John from his pocket. His fingers caressed the worn paper one last time. Then, with a trembling hand, he placed it gently on the surface of the water. The photo floated for a moment, the young faces smiling up at him, before the waves slowly carried it away.
The lake grew still. The air softened. For the first time, Mark felt a strange calm in his chest. Not joy, not freedom, but a quiet understanding. He whispered, his voice breaking, “John… Lilly… I will live for you. I will speak your names. You will never be forgotten again.”
Helen wept beside him, whispering, “Thank you, Mark. Thank you for choosing life.”
But just as they stood to leave, the surface of the lake rippled again—stronger this time. The photo that had begun to sink suddenly rose, floating back to the shore at Mark’s feet. He bent down, his hand shaking as he picked it up. And there, on the photo, something new had appeared—words written in faint, wet ink that hadn’t been there before. “We are waiting at the gate.”
Mark’s breath caught. His eyes widened in shock. Helen gasped, clutching his arm. “Mark… what does it mean?” Mark stared at the words, his voice low, heavy, and filled with dread. “It means this is not over. John and Lilly… they’re not gone yet.”
The lake was calm again after returning the photograph. Mark stood frozen, Helen at his side, both of them staring at the faint words that had appeared: “We are waiting at the gate.” Mark’s lips trembled. His voice broke into the night air. “John… Lilly…”
That same night, when they returned to the mansion, the air inside the house was thick, heavy, almost unbreathable. As Mark stepped into the living room, the temperature dropped. The radio John once kept at the gate began to play faintly on its own. Helen clutched Mark’s hand. “They’re here.”
And then—Mark saw them. John and Lilly, standing together at the bottom of the grand staircase. Their faces pale, filled with sorrow. Lilly clutched her teddy bear; John’s cap rested neatly on his head. Mark’s legs trembled as tears filled his eyes. “My brother… my sister…”
John’s voice was low, steady, but heavy with grief. “Our spirits will not leave this house, Mark. Not until we return. Not until our blood lives again.” Lilly’s small voice followed, soft and broken. “Bring us back, brother. Not as ghosts… but in your children. Let us live again through you.”
Mark’s heart shook violently. He dropped to his knees on the cold floor, clutching his chest. “All these years, I thought wealth was my crown. But I see now… without family, wealth is dust. You want me to build what our parents destroyed. You want me to give you life again.” The spirits stood silently, their eyes filled with sorrow that cut deeper than any knife.
That night, Mark made his decision. “I will marry,” he whispered to himself. “But not for money. Not for name. I will marry for love. I will find a woman who will stand with me in truth, not in riches. A woman who will give me children—not for my inheritance, but for my heart. Through them, John… Lilly… you will live again.”
Helen placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. “Mark… that is the only way. That is what they want.”
The days that followed became a journey. Mark, one of the richest men in the country, began to test the world of women around him. But the reality broke his heart. At every corner, he met ladies who smiled only when they heard his name… ladies who bent sweet words only when they saw his cars… ladies whose love was built on the weight of his wallet, not the weight of his soul. He listened quietly as some whispered behind him: “He is rich—hold him fast!” “He is a ticket to freedom!” “He is money, not a man.”
Mark’s chest burned with disappointment. Each encounter became a lesson—a painful reality about desperation, greed, and false love.
One evening, sitting alone in his silent mansion, Mark spoke aloud to the ghosts of his siblings. “If I stay in this city, I will never find love that is true. Only gold diggers. Only lies. If I must bring you back, I must leave everything behind.” He stood slowly, his decision burning in his chest. “I will leave this city. I will go where money has no power. Where a woman will see me for who I am—not for what I own. I will live as a poor man, and from there… maybe, just maybe, I will find true love.”
The next morning, Mark packed a small bag. No cars, no servants, no suits. He left his mansion silently, wearing the simple clothes of a commoner. His fine shoes were replaced with worn sandals. His face carried no pride of wealth, only the hunger for truth. He took the first bus out of the city, traveling toward a quiet local town far away from Emberwood. As the bus rolled down the dusty road, Mark leaned against the window. His reflection stared back at him, tired but determined. “I will disguise myself as poor. I will hide my name. And in that poverty, if a woman loves me… then she is the one. Through her, John and Lilly will return.” His tears dropped quietly as the bus moved on. Behind him, the city lights faded into the distance. Ahead, a new life—one filled with trials, lessons, and perhaps… love.
That night, as the bus reached the small town, Mark stepped down with his little bag. The wind was cool, the streets quiet, the people humble. He looked around, his heart racing with both fear and hope. He whispered into the night, “Brother… Sister… wait for me. I will not fail you again.” But as he took his first step into the small town, he didn’t know what awaited him. Would he find true love here? Or would the hunger, greed, and desperation of the world follow him even into his disguise?
