My words sent a shockwave through the room. The half-siblings stared at me as if I had lost my mind.

Dad looked at me, a mix of confusion and curiosity in his gaze. "You're not against me setting up a trust for Ethan and the others?"

I nodded, my expression serene. "They can have the trust money, but I want something in return."

"What's that?" Dad asked, almost reflexively.

"The right to inherit the company," I stated firmly.

Ethan, panicked, immediately piped up.

"Really, Lily? It's clear now why you were so quick to agree to Dad's trust fund. You've had your sights set on the company all along!"

Yvonne Porter, mother to the three out-of-wedlock kids, let out a harsh laugh, openly manipulating Dad. "Wow, Ms. Smith, you've got quite the strategy. Your father is still alive, and here you are, jockeying for a piece of the pie."

Rebecca Smith, the middle child, chimed in with a gleeful taunt. "Dad is fit as a fiddle, and you're already plotting for your share. Jumping the gun much?"

Caleb Smith, the youngest, stayed silent, but his disdainful look said it all.

With Yvonne and her brood egging each other on, Dad's gaze on me grew heavy with disappointment. "That's enough!

"Lily, it's not your place to call the shots about who'll take over the company! Even if I hand it to Ethan, you've got no say in the matter."

Yvonne had been in Dad's ear for years, angling to get the company passed down to Ethan.

Their grins were unstoppable when they heard Dad's words. However, inside, I smirked.

I kept my cool and reminded him, "Dad, remember, you and Mom built this company together. She owns half."

Mom and Dad had been living apart for ages, but they never divorced because splitting the company was too complicated. Mom had told me long ago that her shares were mine. I was supposed to take over after college, but Dad played favorites for his other kids, claiming I was not experienced enough to be the heir.

Their sour faces told me they remembered Mom's promise, too. I could not help but feel a rush of satisfaction, though I played it tough. "How about this: I'll trade my claim to the company for the $2.1 billion trust fund."

No sooner had the words left my mouth than Yvonne's mocking laughter rang out, as if she had seen right through my bluff.

"The company's in a real bind right now. Forget about 2.1 billion dollars, it's not even worth half a billion, Ms. Smith. You're playing a clever game, pretending to back down to get what you really want, the trust fund, right?"

Yvonne was convinced she had hit the nail on the head.

"Honey, don't let her fool you. That trust fund is what we're counting on for our kids' future," she pleaded with her husband.

Ethan and his siblings joined in, cautioning their dad not to fall for any tricks.

Dad peered at me, searching my face for a hint of my true intentions.

It took a while, but Dad finally broke the silence.

"Lily, you, Ethan, and the rest are all my kids. I won't treat any of you unfairly.

"Here's what we'll do: You'll take over the company, and the trust fund, along with my other assets, will go to Ethan and the other three."

Dad locked eyes with me as he spoke, watching for the slightest reaction.

Seeing a flash of frustration in my eyes, he seemed reassured. Right in front of me, he made the call, declaring me the company's new heir.

Meanwhile, Dad was setting aside 2.1 billion dollars for a trust fund for his other children and made sure the news got out.

The thought of all that money had his other kids grinning like Cheshire cats.

Their smiles widened even more when they saw me.

Rebecca's voice dripped with scorn, "So, Sis, how's it feel to come up empty-handed? Now you get to babysit that sinking ship of a company until it goes under!"

Caleb was all smugness. "If you play nice with me now, I might just throw you a bone when you're out on the street. How's that sound?"

I bit back my anger, my face a mask of rage, but inside, I was the one smiling.

They were clueless. The company had been my prize all along.

The very next day, as I officially took the reins of the company, Dad, worried I might back out, immediately poured all the funds into the trust.

Dad had to sell off all his properties because we were running low on cash.

Even after that, the trust fund was sitting at a meager 1.5 billion dollars, a good chunk away from the 2.1 billion we needed.

While Dad was scrambling to scrape together more money, I was shaking things up at the company, kicking off new ventures left and right.

Then, on a day I had just nailed down a major deal, Dad called and told me to come home.

I did not want to, but he already sent the driver for me, so I had no choice but to head back.

The moment I stepped up to the villa, the place was buzzing with joy and laughter. However, as soon as I showed up, silence fell, and all eyes were on me.

Yvonne could not resist a dig. "Look who it is, Ms. Smith. Now that you're running the show, we have to beg you to drop by, huh?"

I did not bite, just turned to Dad.

He pretended not to hear, which told me everything I needed to know: they were playing games, trying to knock me down a peg.

I just smirked and spun on my heel to leave.

Yvonne was caught off guard and called out, "Lily, where do you think you're going? Who said you could leave?"

I shot her an icy look. "Since when do you give the orders?"

She was livid, struggling to keep her cool. "How dare you talk to me like that? I'm your elder!"

I could not help but scoff. "My elder? Really?"

When I was 12, Dad cheated with Yvonne.

She got pregnant, and Dad, worried about the scandal, shipped me off to study abroad against my wishes, with Yvonne as my so-called guardian. She was supposed to be looking after me while she had her kid.

Later, when Yvonne had Ethan, she tried to pull strings for her son's sake, even tried to corrupt me.

When that did not work, she resorted to spiking my food, hoping to hook me on drugs.

Lucky for me, I caught on quickly, rigged a camera in the fridge, and dodged that bullet.

Yvonne's face was dark with anger, and I could not help but feel a rush of satisfaction. I was about to throw another biting comment her way when a cup hurled by my dad smacked me right in the forehead.

Dad was fuming, his eyes shooting daggers at me as he let loose a barrage of scolding.

"Where's your respect? Is this how you were raised?! Apologize to Ms. Porter."

I bit back my anger. "I did nothing wrong."

Dad was seething, his chest rising and falling with each breath of rage.

He lifted his cane, ready to strike, but something crossed his mind, and he suddenly cooled down.

"Transfer all the company's liquid assets into the trust. It's still short by 600 million dollars."

It hit me then. Dad had called me back with a purpose in mind.

I refused outright, saying, "The company's tied up in new projects. The funds are all invested."

Dad did not seem to care. "Put the projects on hold. Get the funds back."

I stared at him, shocked that he could be so reckless.

Pulling out the funds then would do nothing but harm the company, and if things went south, we could be looking at bankruptcy.

Dad must have read my mind because he doubled down.

"A company's just a company. It's nothing compared to the trust. And after all these years, what could possibly go wrong?"

My heart dropped. Dad was willing to throw the company under the bus for his three illegitimate kids.

Then it clicked. Dad was not ignoring the company; he was trying to milk me and the company dry for the sake of his other children.

I composed myself. "Dad, I'm not pulling the funds. You can forget about it."

With that, I walked out, ignoring the angry shouts that followed.

I thought I had been clear and that Dad would back off.

However, the next day, I got the news from finance: the funds were pulled, and Dad had moved every penny into the trust.

I watched helplessly as my project ground to a halt, starved of funds. In a panic, I raced home to beg my dad to return the money.

When I got there, I found out he had been hospitalized, his old ailments flaring up again.

Dad was getting on in years, and his health had been failing for a while. That was why he had set up a trust in a rush, to back up his three kids from other relationships.

In the hospital room, he gave me that icy stare.

"I've handed the company over to you. The money? That's your problem now."

Desperate, I pleaded, "Dad, please. I'm begging you. Give the funds back. Without them, the company's toast."

The cash he had pulled was not just the company's lifeline; half of it was money I had borrowed from the bank.

Without it, we were headed straight for bankruptcy.

Alas, Dad would not budge, insisting he was broke.

Ethan taunted me, "Your company's mess isn't Dad's problem. You chose this path. Don't expect a dime from us."

Caleb flicked a few crumpled bills at me. "Here's your money. Now scram and let Dad rest."

Rebecca, ice-cold, signaled the bodyguard, who tossed me out of the room like yesterday's trash.

Cornered, I scrambled to borrow money, trying to patch up the disaster.

A month flew by in no time.

Then, out of the blue, the hospital called. Dad's condition had taken a nosedive.

I got there, and the room was packed. Every relative and friend, plus the three kids from Dad's past, had shown up.

Dad had withered away to nothing in just a month, a shell of his former self, clinging to life on a ventilator, speechless.

Before I could say a word, his other kids barged in, frantic.

Ethan was at the bedside in a heartbeat. "Dad, you promised the trust would dish out our dividends monthly. Why haven't we seen a cent?"

Rebecca fumed, "Seriously, Dad. I picked up the tab at dinner last night, and my card got rejected. Talk about a total face-plant."

Caleb chimed in, "Dad, you didn't go and change the trust's beneficiary, did you? Don't tell me you've handed it all over to Lily?"

At that, everyone's jaws dropped. They stared at Dad, a mix of panic and fury in their eyes, desperate for him to clear things up.

Dad's lips moved, but even with Ethan's ear glued to him, he could not catch a word.

Yvonne shoved Ethan out of the way and clutched Dad's hand tightly.

"Honey, you promised that trust was for our boy. What's the deal now? Spit it out!"

With great effort, Dad managed to croak, "Bring in the manager."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with hope. He whipped out his phone and called the trust company, demanding that Paul Yates, the manager handling Dad's trust, come over pronto.

Paul showed up in no time, clutching a hefty file.

With Dad speechless, Ethan took charge of the interrogation.

"Mr. Yates, Dad set up this trust for us siblings. Why aren't we seeing any dividends, and why can't we touch the money in the trust?"

Dad, straining, tilted his head back, waiting for Paul to explain.

Paul, cool as a cucumber, began, "I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, but the three of you don't qualify to inherit the trust–"

Yvonne cut him off mid-sentence.

"That's a load of bull! The trust was my husband's gift to our sons. How could they not have rights to it? You're just trying to pocket it all, aren't you?"

Ethan piled on, "You bet they are. They're up to no good. Hand over what's ours, now!"

The others exchanged glances, murmuring in agreement.

"Just as I thought, you can't trust a trust. Mr. Smith is still around, and they're already trying to snatch his cash."

"It's 2.1 billion dollars we're talking about here. Who wouldn't be swayed?"

Paul, hearing that, was sweating bullets.

"Our firm doesn't pocket a single cent of our clients' funds. Mr. Smith's trust is worth 2.1 billion, but we've only got 1.8 billion in the account. Unless we come up with the missing 300 million, even as heirs, you can't touch it."

Relieved by the explanation, Yvonne and the rest let out a collective sigh.

Caleb stepped up, "So, if my dad adjusts the trust to 1.8 billion now, we're good to go?"

Paul shook his head. "Mr. Smith isn't in any state to change the trust. The only way is to add the 300 million."

Caleb and the others were at a loss.

Their dad's assets had long been liquidated into the trust. If they could have coughed up the 300 million, they would not be in that bind.

Rebecca blurted, "So, you're saying no one can get their hands on the trust money?"

Paul replied with cool composure, "Not exactly. There's still one heir who can access the funds."

At that, Ethan and his siblings fixed their gazes on Paul, eyes alight with anticipation.

Paul ignored their stares and walked over to me.

"Ms. Smith, you are now the sole legal heir to the 2.1 billion dollar trust."