I didn't show him the original. I only let him see the photo on my phone.
His eyes practically pressed against the screen, his breathing growing ragged.
Caroline crowded in beside him, and for the first time, something resembling a smile cracked across her pinched face.
When I mentioned I'd be claiming the prize alone, Elijah's panic was immediate.
"That's out of the question! A sum that large—I'm coming with you."
His eyes gleamed with naked greed. "Besides, I've been thinking about upgrading to a G-Wagon..."
I cut him off.
"No need. Our prenuptial agreement is very clear—we keep separate finances. This prize money is my personal property. It has nothing to do with you."
Elijah's expression curdled.
That agreement? He was the one who'd insisted on signing it.
He'd said that since we were equals, going fifty-fifty was only fair—it would prevent money disputes down the road.
Now I understood. He'd only been protecting his assets from me.
That night, I pretended to fall asleep early.
Elijah tore through the apartment, hunting for that scratch-off ticket.
I'd anticipated his greed. The ticket was already hidden somewhere he'd never think to look.
When he came up empty, he retreated to the balcony and called Anita.
His voice drifted through the glass, fragmented but clear enough:
"That's right—fifty million! Once the money hits the account, I'll have Gideon extend Hayden's life! Fifty more years this time! And if that's not enough, we'll add more!"
"Nora? Who cares about her. Even if she recovers, she'll just be a sickly burden. Better she dies and reincarnates sooner—spare everyone the suffering!"
"If Cassandra hadn't been so easy to manipulate, you think I would've married her? Anita, you know the truth. You're the only one in my heart..."
I trembled beneath the covers. Even a tiger won't devour its own cubs. But Elijah? He was worse than an animal.
No matter. Judgment was coming for both of them.
On the day I claimed the prize, Elijah insisted on tagging along. He was more excited than I was.
When the winnings hit my account, his eyes practically glowed.
The lottery official smiled at me. "Ms. Salazar, would you be interested in making a donation? We partner with several charitable organizations—"
I didn't hesitate. "Five million. I want to establish the Butterfly Children Relief Fund."
Children like my daughter deserved a fighting chance.