Chapter 2

This time, I didn't tell my brother I'd won.

I thought that as long as I didn't let him know I'd won five million, nothing bad would happen.

But unexpectedly, my brother smiled and asked: "Stella, I saw you go buy a lottery ticket yesterday. Did you win anything?"

My heart skipped a beat. I smiled and said: "No, it's not that easy to win."

"You're so careless. Give the ticket to me and I'll check for you—maybe you got it wrong."

"No need, I just checked the numbers one by one. I really didn't win. Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that. What if you did win and you made a mistake? Our family would miss out on an opportunity. It won't hurt for me to take another look."

I deliberately put the ticket in my pocket. "You just don't trust me. I won't let you see it."

My brother thought I was being playful. He smiled and patted my head, then stuffed the bread into my hand. "Fine, fine, I won't look. You must be hungry—eat up."

I took the bread and headed out. "The weather's nice. I'm going out for some air."

I decided to leave the house first and calm my panicked mind.

But the moment I turned into the alley, my heart suddenly clenched—the ticket in my pocket was gone!

My blood froze instantly. I immediately turned and ran back. When I caught sight of our front door from a distance, I saw my brother standing there, deathly pale and rigid.

The ticket that should have been in my pocket was now in his hand.

He raised his hand to tear it, but I rushed over, snatched the ticket back, and ran.

I heard him roar behind me: "Stella, you can't claim that prize!"

In my previous life, even until I died, I never understood why my brother, who had loved and doted on me since childhood, would change so completely the moment he learned I'd won big.

The viciousness in his eyes was something I'd never seen before.

My brother chased me desperately. My stamina was no match for his, and he caught up quickly.

I trembled all over and screamed: "Help! My brother's trying to kill me!"

The alley was full of familiar neighbors. Hearing my shouts, they all came out to see what was happening.

My brother clearly hadn't expected this. Seeing I couldn't escape, I turned and dropped to my knees before him, crying: "Why? We're about to have a good life—why do you want to tear up that ticket?"

My brother ground his teeth and cursed under his breath: "Shut up, you bastard!"

He tried to drag me away, but just then, some of the watching neighbors hurried over.

Mr. Thompson from next door forcibly pulled him away from me.

"How can you hit your own sister?"

The other neighbors started talking among themselves.

"I just heard you shouting about winning the lottery—that's wonderful news! Why would you hit her?"

"Even if she's your sister, you can't hit her! Hitting people is illegal! If you try anything else, we're calling the police."

My brother's breathing was rapid, veins bulging in his neck as he glared at me viciously.

But surrounded by the crowd, he couldn't do anything.

Suddenly, he smiled at something behind me. Confused, I turned around and saw Dad approaching.