The Lottery Heiress I Cut Off My Mother and Exposed Her Lies Live

"So it looks like you won't be getting a single penny from that demolition payout, will you?"

Aunt Diane's eyes swept over me with undisguised contempt. "You know, you're not getting any younger. Why not find someone to marry while you still can? My nephew is about your age—he sells pork at the town market. Makes a decent living, tens of thousands a year. What do you say?"

Her nephew. Five foot two, pushing two hundred fifty pounds, didn't even finish elementary school.

I shook off her grip, my voice flat. "Not interested."

Uncle Robert's brow furrowed instantly. "Corinne, what kind of attitude is that?"

"Your aunt is doing you a favor by offering her nephew. Show some gratitude!"

He stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward me. "Let's be honest—your father's dead, your mother can't stand you. Once they tear down that house, you won't even have a roof over your head. If you don't lock down a husband now, how exactly do you plan to survive?"

I let out a cold laugh. "That's my problem. Don't trouble yourselves."

I turned and walked away without looking back.

From there, I went straight to the State Lottery Office.

Verified my winnings. Paid the taxes. Signed the paperwork.

By the time I walked out with tens of millions of dollars deposited in my account, night had fallen. I booked a room at a five-star hotel.

That evening, I ate the kind of expensive French cuisine I'd never dared to order. I slept in the kind of luxury suite I'd never dared to imagine.

For the first time in my life, I understood what people meant when they said money changed everything.

It was incredible.

The next morning, I took a cab to Emerald Oasis.

The most exclusive development in the entire city.

The kind of place I used to feel guilty just glancing at when I walked past.

But today, I was here to buy a home of my own.

The moment I mentioned paying in full, the sales manager—a man named Jordan Dickerson—came out personally to greet me.

Manager Dickerson was professional and efficient. When I told him I wanted a move-in-ready villa, he showed me several options.

In the end, I chose the one with the best location, the best views, and the interior that suited my taste perfectly.

Total price: two and a half million dollars.

When I pulled out my card without hesitation, his composure cracked—just for a second. A young woman, paying cash for a property like this. I could see him recalculating everything he'd assumed about me.

While processing the paperwork, curiosity finally got the better of him. "Ms. Fox, if you don't mind my asking—someone with your resources, where were you living before?"

"Westside," I said evenly. "The old village district."

He blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. Then he recovered, nodding slowly.

"Ah, I know the area. Word was they were planning to demolish it—big redevelopment project." He paused, shuffling papers. "Though our company tends to hear things early. Apparently the plans got adjusted. That district isn't in the demolition zone anymore."

He shook his head with something like sympathy. "A lot of people who were counting on those payouts are going to be very disappointed."

The Westside demolition plan had been adjusted?

I almost laughed out loud.

So my mother and her precious relatives were about to watch their windfall vanish into thin air.

Perfect.

Jordan excused himself to print some documents, leaving me to wait in the reception hall.

With nothing better to do, I wandered through the showroom—and stopped dead.

Walking through the entrance were my mother, my sister, and my aunt and uncle's entire family.

They were dressed to impress. Designer clothes. Gold jewelry dripping from their wrists and necks. Clearly, the moment they'd heard about the demolition payout, they'd gone on a spending spree.

The second my mother spotted me, her expression soured. She marched over, heels clicking against the marble floor.

"Corinne. What are you doing here?"

"Buying a house," I said simply.

Her face twisted with disbelief. "You? Buy a house? The cheapest units here start at millions. Where would you get that kind of money?"

Before I could respond, Penelope sidled up beside her, smirking.

"Oh, I get it now." Her voice dripped with false sweetness. "You must have found out we're about to receive our five-million-dollar payout and came here to spy on us. Followed us to see what we'd buy, didn't you?"

She tossed her hair, gold bangles jangling. "Well, let me remind you, sister—we signed those papers cutting you off. Even if we buy a mansion, you won't see a single cent of it!"