He won, or lost depending on the attitude. In his hot little hand, sixteen little digits put him on every lotto players radar. Called Hunted or rich, he now had the chance of surviving and cashing in, or dying and making someone else’s dreams come true.
But he has a better idea. Instead of allow a stranger to take it, he’ll give it to the only reason he was ever born.

“Yes, the whole amount, three billion.”

Her eyes dart up and to the right, and he knows she is creating a future in her head where she spends every penny.
“What do I have to do?”
“Use this.”
The pistol is old and heavy and clunks against the counter like it wants to break the world.
“Shoot you.”
He nods, and is prepared to go into a long winded rant about why she should, when she does just that and puts him in darkness before he can utter a single word.

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