Night had fallen, stars faintly blinking in the sky. Lyra Solis sat alone in the living room, tightly gripping a crumpled EuroMillions lottery ticket in her hand, her expression deadly serious as she stared intently at the television screen.
On screen, the female presenter's voice was clear and animated as she read out the winning numbers, each one bursting forth like musical notes: 9, 10, 13, 19, 24, 32. The special number: 1.
Lyra's heartbeat sped up with each number the presenter called. As she heard the digits match those on her ticket one by one, her breath caught in her throat.
Each number struck like a bell of fate against her heart. Her cheeks flushed red with excitement and adrenaline as her pulse quickened.
When the final special number was announced, Lyra stared at the screen in disbelief. Then, all at once, a tidal wave of joy surged through her.
She leapt off the sofa, hands covering her mouth, eyes wide as if she couldn't believe her ears.
Just as Kael Voss had told her, the numbers on the ticket were real. It was a winner. Holding the thin slip of paper in her hand, Lyra suddenly regretted not buying more.
Why had she tried to be frugal? She'd only spent £10 for five lines. If she had bought 100 lines… wouldn't she be filthy rich by now?
That thought alone made her heart pound like a drum. Excitement swelled in her chest.
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. How much was the jackpot per line? How much would she get for five winning tickets? It had to be a few million at least, right?
Without another thought, she grabbed her laptop and quickly looked up the results online. As she read what she found, her expression morphed from shock to pure disbelief.
"Oh my god…"
Lyra raised her delicate hand, half-tempted to slap herself awake, but instead she only gave her cheek a light pat.
She tossed the laptop onto the sofa and began leaping about the living room in gleeful circles, like a child who had just received the toy of their dreams—unable to contain the sheer elation bubbling within her.
"Forty-five million! I'm rich! Rich!"
Her laughter rang through the room like silver bells. She twirled on the spot, holding the ticket aloft as if it were a glowing beacon illuminating her future.
Eventually, the euphoria settled. She sat cross-legged on the couch, elbow propped on one knee as she gazed out the window at the moonlight pouring in.
"I can't believe it actually hit. This isn't just a lucky break—it's a real investment now. I need to take this seriously. Cash it in tomorrow… and start large-scale stockpiling. With this kind of money, it'd be a crime not to go all out."
Thinking of the ticket again, Lyra couldn't help pressing a kiss to it. "Tomorrow's a shopping spree!" she declared aloud.
The morning sun shone brightly on Lyra as she stepped outside. Her mood was just as radiant.
Today, she wore oversized sunglasses and a medical-grade face mask that obscured half her face. With a hat and scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, even someone who knew her well would struggle to recognize her.
She stood outside the National Lottery Centre, peering through the glass at the spacious lobby. Her hand clutched the slightly wrinkled winning ticket as her heart thudded louder with every step forward.
Steadying her breath, she entered the bustling building and made her way to the prize claim counter. She had already called ahead and confirmed her visit. When a staff member spotted her rather dramatic disguise, they immediately stepped out to greet her.
"Good morning. I'm here to claim a prize," Lyra said.
Though she managed to keep her tone composed, her voice still carried a slight tremor—this was, after all, the first time she'd ever handled such a massive windfall, even with her experience running a sizeable business.
"Miss Solis, is it? Congratulations. May I see your ticket and ID, please?"
The staff member gave a professional smile. Lyra quickly handed over both items, anticipation glimmering in her eyes.
The employee took the ticket and carefully verified the numbers and her identification. As the verification progressed, Lyra could hear the roar of her own heartbeat in her ears.
After a few moments, the staff member looked up and beamed.
"Congratulations, Miss Solis. You've won five lines of the jackpot special prize. Your total winnings amount to £45.32 million."
Lyra nodded, doing her best to remain calm. She'd already confirmed the results online last night, and the initial rush of shock had faded—mostly.
The staff member guided her through the prize redemption process. Lyra signed the necessary documents and received official certification for her winnings. Everything moved swiftly and professionally.
"Miss Solis," the staff member explained, "according to government regulations, lottery winnings are categorized as miscellaneous income and subject to a 20% personal income tax. From your total winnings of £45.32 million, £9.064 million will be deducted in taxes. The remaining amount—£36.256 million—will be transferred to your designated account. Which account would you prefer we use?"
Lyra thought for a moment and chose to have the funds deposited into her personal bank account rather than her company's.
With the account details in hand, the staff used the banking system to complete the transfer. Lyra's phone soon buzzed with a notification confirming the funds had been successfully deposited.
After exchanging warm goodbyes, Lyra walked out of the lottery centre and gave a small wave to the sky. Her heart still raced with adrenaline, though she soon composed herself.
Next came the real task: shopping according to plan. She got into her car and sped off toward the wholesale branch of the Primark Hypermart chain—the store she had carefully chosen the night before.
Thirty minutes later, at the wholesale purchasing department of Primark Hypermart.
"What… What was that amount again?"
The balding store manager blinked at her, unsure if he'd heard correctly. He hesitated, clearly needing to confirm what she'd just said.
Lyra cast him a cold glance, clearly annoyed. She raised one finger and replied sharply, "Ten million."
The manager—Walter Miller—stood frozen. He hadn't misheard. A ten million pound purchase order. His heart nearly stopped.
Good lord. Do rich people really just… do that?
Just stroll into a store and casually order ten million pounds' worth of goods? His entire inventory might not even be worth that much.
At that moment, only one thought echoed in Walter's mind: The rich really do spend money like lunatics.
As Lyra watched the stunned, drooling man gawk at her, she furrowed her brows. Maybe she had chosen the wrong store?
She had originally considered going straight to food manufacturers or meat suppliers to buy in bulk for Kael Voss, but that would've been such a hassle. Instead, she opted for a top-tier retail chain.
These hypermarkets had stable supplier networks, and right now, the last thing she lacked was money. What she needed were people who could execute the plan. Delegating the big order to a hypermarket made perfect sense—they'd be motivated by profit to deliver flawlessly.
But now, seeing this glassy-eyed, half-conscious bald man, Lyra couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of doubt.