After Winning the Lottery My Family Plotted to Kill Me

“You ungrateful brat! Your sister told you to tear up the ticket—why didn’t you listen?!” He seethed.

I was crumbling inside, but I clenched my teeth and forced myself to explain.

“Dad, we really need this money. Mom is sick and needs treatment, you’re drowning in debt, while Rosie has school expenses. I just want to fix my leg. I don’t want to be crippled forever—”

“Shut your damn mouth, you worthless bastard!” my father roared.

He charged at me and kicked my injured leg with full force. I collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain as he yanked violently at my pocket, trying to snatch the ticket.

At that moment, my mother rushed over and shoved him away, shielding me with her body.

“Have you lost your mind?! His leg is already hurt! Keep this up and he’ll be crippled for life!” she shouted, voice trembling with rage.

But instead of getting angry, my father only sneered coldly.

“Oh, you feel sorry for him? This heartless little bastard doesn’t even deserve to be our child.”

His words stunned the neighbors. Everyone in the neighborhood knew my father had always doted on me. People often gossiped about how he favored sons over daughters, but he never cared what they said. No one could believe he’d say something like that now—about me.

My mother clutched her chest, her voice shaking with fury.

“What on earth is going on?!”

Rosie held out her phone to her, but I jumped up and blocked her, looking at my mom with pleading eyes.

“Mom, please don’t look. Don’t believe what they’re saying.”

I knew the moment she saw that photo—the moment she found out I’d won the lottery—she’d stop seeing me as her son.

She gently wrapped her arms around me, her palm patting my back in slow, soothing strokes. Her voice was warm and tender, full of comfort.

“Don’t worry. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. Let me talk to them, sort this out, then everything will be okay.”

I shook my head desperately.

“No, Mom... if you believe them, you’ll stop loving me.”

She cupped my face, her gaze soft and steady.

“Julius, listen to me. No matter what happens, I’m on your side. I love you more than anyone in this world.”

At that moment, Dad barked impatiently, “He won five million! The ticket is in his pocket!”

The moment those words left his mouth, my mother’s expression changed.

Her once gentle face twisted with ferocity, and a shadow of darkness flashed in her eyes—it sent a chill through me, making my whole body tremble.

She gave me a tight, unnatural smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Unlike Dad and Rosie, who had reacted with fury and excitement, Mom’s eerie calm felt even more terrifying.

Her voice was low and emotionless.

“This is good news, Julius. Come home. We should celebrate.”

But there was no joy in her words. No laughter in her tone. And the hand she reached out with was trembling—betraying the storm she tried to hide.

She was trying to hold it together. Forcing herself to stay composed.

But I could see right through it.

“No—I’m not going home.” I backed away, stumbling through the crowd, my breath ragged with panic.

Her brows furrowed, her voice sharpened, turning cold and dangerous.

“What are you doing, Julius? It’s getting dark. Where do you think you’re going if not home?”

Both my parents were closing in.

I spun around and grabbed the nearest neighbor, tears spilling down my face as I begged.

“Please... please help me! I can’t go back with them. They will kill me!”

Everyone around exchanged bewildered glances.

After all, in their eyes, I’d always been the most loved child in the family. Even if my parents were strict, it was always out of care. Outsiders couldn’t justify interfering.

Just as the crowd hesitated, unsure what to do—Old Granny Fatima stepped forward.

She squinted at me, her tone gentle but firm. “Seems like something’s weighing on Julius’s heart. Let’s not force him right now.”