Jackpot of Vengeance

I won $30 million in the lottery.

I quietly told my mom, Helena Nightfall, and urged her to divorce my abusive, gambling-addicted dad, Victor Nightfall. From then on, I would take care of her and give her a life of luxury.

She agreed without hesitation, then turned around and told him everything.

Dad came to my door and demanded the money. When I refused, he beat me mercilessly.

In the end, it was my lovesick mother who searched my room, found my debit card, and took every cent I had.

Dad squandered my money on a life of excess. Not only did he kick Mom to the curb and find himself a new woman, but he even handed out my winnings generously to relatives back in our hometown.

They lived it up on my money while I—the one who had won the lottery—didn’t receive a single cent.

Unwilling to accept it, I went to confront Dad and demand my money back. By sheer coincidence, I ran into debt collectors who were after Dad.

Dad shoved me out the door and left me to be stabbed to death by his creditors.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I first discovered I had won the lottery.

Mom’s anxious face filled my vision, her voice sharpening from distant static into something painfully real.

"Zara, what did you need to tell me? If you have something to say, hurry up. Your dad’s waiting for me to get home and cook. You said earlier that you won something. What did you win?"

Hearing her questions, I quickly scanned my surroundings.

My apartment.

Understanding hit instantly.

I had been reborn.

In my previous life, at this exact moment, I had just won a $30-million jackpot. All I could think about was taking my mom, Helena Nightfall, away from that miserable household, moving somewhere far away, and starting a new life with her.

She had agreed again and again. But the moment my dad, Victor Nightfall, came home, she told him everything.

My gambling addict dad’s eyes had lit up like a predator spotting prey. He marched straight up to me and demanded the ticket.

"Where is it? Hand it over! So you hit the jackpot and didn’t tell your old man? Planning to run off with your mom?

"You ungrateful little brat. Your money is my money. How dare you make decisions on your own?"

Step by step, he closed in, forcing me to give it up.

As if I would ever let him have it. I had won that money. With it, I could finally escape that house. I would never again have to hand over my salary and scrape by on whatever scraps he allowed me to keep.

No matter what he said, I refused.

So he started hitting me.

While he beat me, Mom had slipped into my room, rummaged through my things, found my debit card, and walked out with it.

Dad took the money and went straight back to gambling. Only then did Mom come to my side, speaking in a hushed voice, "Zara, don’t blame me. I’m doing this for your own good. You’re a girl. What would you even do with that kind of money? It’s safer in your dad’s hands.

"In this family, your dad should be the one in charge."

After saying that, she left without another glance, abandoning me where I lay bruised and swollen.

Later, Dad used the money to indulge himself at luxury clubs. He bragged nonstop in the family group chat, and relatives from back home flooded in to flatter him. His vanity satisfied, he started lending money out left and right.

Unwilling to watch my winnings be squandered, I went to confront him and demand it back.

By sheer coincidence, I ran into his creditors.

An argument broke out. In the chaos, he shoved me out the door along with them.

The debt collectors had lost all reason. Ignoring my pleas, they stabbed me to death on the spot.

All of this began because Mom told him.

So this time, I would guard that money with my life and live freely on my own terms.