After Winning Lottery for Five Million Dollars, My Family Locked Me with a Starving Wolfhound

My family was so poor we could barely afford to eat. Then, out of sheer luck, the lottery ticket I bought on a whim hit the jackpot—five million dollars.

But instead of celebration, chaos broke loose.

My brother’s eyes turned red with madness. He lunged at me, snatched the ticket from my hand and looked ready to rip it apart.

The man who always claimed to love me most—my father—grabbed a kitchen knife and pressed the cold blade to my neck.

“If you don’t tear that ticket up right now,” he snarled, “I’ll cut your hand off.”

Even my bedridden mother, who’d been clinging to life and waiting for money for her treatment, forced herself upright with trembling limbs. Her eyes were wide with panic as she cried out, “Stella, baby, you can’t cash that prize. You just can’t!”

To stop me from claiming the money, they tied me up in the basement and let in a starving wolfhound.

Eventually, the beast tore me apart.

And just like that, I died.

But then—I opened my eyes. I was back on the same day I won the lottery.

——

My brother stood in front of me, holding out two steamed buns. His eyes sparkled with warmth and care. “Stella, once we have money, we’ll take you out for your favorite beef noodles.”

He smiled and added casually, “By the way, did that lottery ticket you bought win anything?”

His gentle voice jolted me back to reality.

I looked down at the familiar ticket in my hand.

It was real. I had come back. Reborn, to the day everything had started.

In my previous life, buying lottery tickets was something I did now and then—just for fun. My family always clung to the hope that one day I’d win big and lift us out of poverty.

We were dirt poor.

I had dropped out of school because we couldn’t afford tuition. My brother was desperate to marry his girlfriend, but without money for a house, she was ready to leave him.

Dad, working as a security guard, had crashed the boss’s luxury car and still owed a mountain of compensation.

And Mom—Mom had uremia. She was dying, just waiting for enough money to pay for life-saving treatment.

We barely had enough to eat. Every mealtime, we’d literally count the grains of rice in the pot.

Then, the night before, I dreamt of a set of numbers. The moment I woke up, I rushed to the lottery shop and bought a ticket.

After the draw, I checked it again and again. I’d won. First prize.

Five million dollars.

Bursting with excitement, I ran to the kitchen, where my brother was steaming buns. I told him the news and handed him the ticket. His smile froze. His face went pale. Eyes wide with shock, he stared at the numbers.

Then, suddenly, he tried to tear the ticket in half.

Panicking, I snatched it back.

“Brother, if we win, we’ll have money!” I pleaded. “You can buy a house, get married! We can treat Mom! We won’t have to suffer anymore!”

But it was like he couldn’t hear me. He lunged again, wild with rage. We struggled. In desperation, I bit his hand.

He stumbled back, face twisted in pain. His eyes were bloodshot. His voice cracked as he screamed, “Stella, you can’t cash that ticket! Tear it up!”

I stood frozen, trembling. That terrifying look on his face—it didn’t belong to my brother.

Then Dad came home.

He saw me cornered and without a word, smacked my brother on the back of the head. “You little punk! Bullying your sister now?”

But my brother, shaking and pointing at me, cried out, “She dreamt the winning numbers! That ticket—she won five million dollars!”

The color drained from Dad’s face. His anger turned instantly to horror.

Without a word, he charged into the kitchen like a madman, grabbed a kitchen knife and came at me.

“Tear it up!” he howled. “Tear up that ticket or I’ll kill you!”

Just as the blade was about to strike, Mom appeared, dragging her frail body through the door and shielding me with her own.

“Have you lost your mind?” she screamed. “You’re going to butcher your own daughter with a kitchen knife?!”

Dad sneered.

“She won the lottery.”

Mom blinked. “So what? Stella's always been lucky. She’s won five, ten bucks before.”

“No,” Dad said. “It’s the grand prize. Five million dollars.”

The color drained from Mom’s face. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

Then, without warning, she shoved me away from her and shook her head violently. “No... No. No!”