He Faked the Wine, So I Faked a $5 Million Prize—Now He's Ruined

"Don't try to use that kind of talk to pressure me!"

Mrs. Lambert slapped the armrest and cut me off.

"So what if I look down on them? What I said is the truth!"

"This liquor was bought by my son, and this five million dollars will definitely be handled by my son!"

"Give it to your mom and dad? That's like throwing meat to a dog—gone forever!"

"Enough!"

I raised my voice. My chest heaved with anger, my gaze locked onto the man who'd been silent the whole time.

"Ryan, you're just going to sit there? Your mom talks about my parents like that, and you don't say a word? Our plan, our promises—what do they even mean to you?"

Ryan had nowhere left to hide. He finally lifted his head, his face twisted into something ugly—the look of a man ready to burn it all down.

"Joy… what Mom said… isn't completely wrong. This money came out of nowhere. Our original plan… maybe it really does need some adjustments."

"Adjustments?" I sneered. "Which part? The part where we bring my parents here, or the part where we buy a house?"

Ryan opened his mouth. Before he could speak, Mrs. Lambert jumped in.

"All of it! I'm telling you right now, Joy—don't even think about buying a house…"

She shot Ryan a pointed look.

"Ryan, tell her! Tell her whether that so-called house fund even exists anymore!"

My mind went blank.

Ryan's face cycled through pale and green. His lips moved a few times.

"Joy… the house fund we saved… I had an emergency a while back, so I already… diverted it."

One light sentence.

The last shred of hope shattered with it.

So all those promises about our future had never weighed more than a feather to him.

I looked at this mother and son—one vicious and smug, one spineless and fake.

They took my contributions for granted while grinding the family I loved into the dirt.

On one hand, they brushed off my parents with counterfeit liquor. On the other, they helped themselves to my savings.

And now, facing a fabricated five million dollars, they revealed their true colors—pure, ugly greed.

So this was how rotten the human heart could get.

My voice came out surprisingly calm.

"What emergency? Your dear cousin's gambling debts again? Or did your mom see some new gold bracelet she just had to have?"

"Joy! How can you say that!"

Ryan shot to his feet like I'd stabbed a nerve, his face flushing red.

"Am I wrong?"

I stepped forward, staring him down.

"Ryan, explain it to me. Most of that money was earned by me—what gave you the right to touch it? Where did it go?"

Mrs. Lambert sprang up, hands on her hips, all pretense gone. She jabbed a finger at my face.

"You married into this family, so you belong to the Lyons family! Every penny you earn is ours! A married daughter is water poured out—gone! Don't you dare side with outsiders!"

"And that five million? Forget about it! My son bought that liquor, so the prize belongs to us! Just try and touch it!"

"Liquor your son bought?"

I was so furious I laughed.

"Want me to remind you what was actually in those two bottles of 'Moutai'? Want me to repeat what you said at the door?"

Mrs. Lambert's face went white.

"You… you were eavesdropping? Fine, Joy! So now you've learned to spy at doorways!"

She spat on the floor, then kept right on pointing at my face and shouting like nothing had happened.