Trust Funds and Bloodlines

"Lily, I'm thinking of setting up a trust fund with 2.1 billion dollars for your siblings. What's your take on that?" Dad's voice, so familiar, snapped me awake. I opened my eyes to see the three half-siblings, buzzing with excitement.

I was disoriented for a moment before Dad's icy voice cut through again.

"You've lived it up as an only child, basking in luxury. However, Ethan and the others can't even call me 'Dad' in front of others. This money is their due."

It was only after hearing those words that I realized I had been reborn.

I had returned to the very day my father planned to set up trusts for his three illegitimate sons.

In my previous life, he had dropped the bomb at a family dinner, ready to lock in that 2.1 billion for them.

Back then, I fought tooth and nail, pleading with him to wait, thinking about the company's financial needs. I even promised the half-siblings we would revisit the trust once we were on solid ground with the project.

I never expected that my three half-siblings would think I was trying to hog all the inheritance. Blinded by anger, they went out for a reckless joyride and ended up in a fatal crash that left nothing but wreckage and loss.

Dad's reaction to the news had been chillingly detached. "That's just how things turned out," he had said with a shrug.

I took over the company and worked tirelessly for three years, transforming it into one of the world's top 500 enterprises. My efforts earned me the title of Young Entrepreneur of the Year.

However, on the very day we were celebrating that milestone, Dad got me drunk and dragged me to my half-siblings' gravesite, where he brutally broke my arms and legs.

Through my screams, I demanded to know why he was doing that to me.

His response was to crush my fingers underfoot and hiss, "If you hadn't been so greedy for the inheritance, Ethan and the others wouldn't have gone out that night, and they wouldn't have died in that crash!

"I've put up with you all this time just to see you pay for what you've done to Ethan and the rest!"

In the end, Dad beat me to death. My body was contorted into a terracotta figure, eternally bowing down at the graves of my half-siblings.

As I remembered the pain from my last moments in that previous life, I clenched my fists.

My silence seemed to irk the three of them. Ethan Smith, the oldest, snapped at me, "Lily, we're Dad's kids, too. You've been parading around as the sole heir online, but now that Dad's trying to give us our share, who are you to interfere?"

I did not even bother to answer him. Instead, I locked eyes with Dad, who was watching me intently.

"Dad, it's your money. You can give it to whoever you want. I won't argue," I said.