My gaze was fixed on my mother-in-law, whose state resembled that of a person who had seen a ghost. A small envelope trembled nervously in her hand, and her eyes were frozen in an expression of panic. The loud music of the banquet hall in the old mansion drowned out all sounds, making our conversation completely confidential.
This sunny May morning was supposed to be a perfect day. The ancient mansion of my fiancé Sergey’s family was preparing to host a multitude of guests. Waiters deftly arranged crystal glasses, and the air filled with the aromas of fresh roses and elite champagne. Expensive portraits in massive frames seemed to observe the proceedings from the walls.
«Anastasia, have you noticed that Sergey seems a bit strange today?» whispered the mother-in-law, nervously looking around.
I frowned. Indeed, Sergey had looked tense all day. Now he was at the far end of the hall, pressing a phone to his ear, his face frozen like a mask.
«Just wedding nerves,» I tried to dismiss, adjusting my veil.
«Look at this. Right now,» she handed me the envelope and quickly disappeared among the guests, reclaiming her usual social smile.
Hiding behind a column, I hastily unfolded the note. My heart stopped.
«Sergey and his company are planning to get rid of you after the wedding. You are just part of their plan. They are aware of your family’s inheritance. Run if you want to stay alive.»
My first thought was mockery. Some silly joke by my mother-in-law. But then I remembered Sergey’s suspicious conversations, which he interrupted whenever I appeared, his recent coldness…
My gaze found Sergey across the hall. He finished his conversation and turned to me. His eyes showed the truth—a stranger with a calculating gleam.
«Anya!» called the bride’s friend. «It’s time!»
«Just a moment! I’ll just check the restroom!»
Through the service corridor, I ran outside, pulling off my shoes. The gardener raised his eyebrows in surprise but received only a wave in response: «The bride needs some air!»
Outside the gates, I caught a taxi. «Where to?» asked the driver, eyeing the strange passenger. «To the station. Make it quick.» I threw the phone out the window: «The train leaves in half an hour.»
An hour later, I was on a train to another city, dressed in purchases from a station store. Thoughts swirled around one thing: could all this really be happening to me?
Back at the mansion, there was likely a panic starting. I wondered what story Sergey would invent. Would he play the role of a grieving fiancé or show his true face?
Closing my eyes, I tried to sleep. Ahead lay a new life, uncertain, but definitely safe. Better to be alive and hidden than a dead bride.
Changing myself for safety—that’s what fifteen years of perfect coffee practice meant.
«Your favorite cappuccino is ready,» I set a cup in front of a regular guest at a modest café on the outskirts of Kaliningrad. «And a blueberry muffin, as usual?»
«You are too kind to me, Vera Andreyevna,» smiled the elderly professor, one of those who regularly warmed our little coffee shop.
Now I was Vera. Anastasia dissolved in the past along with the white dress and shattered hopes. I had paid a considerable amount for new documents, but it was totally worth it.
«What’s new in the world?» I nodded at his tablet, where he scrolled through fresh news.
«Another businessman got caught in manipulations. Does the name Sergey Valeryevich Romanov ring a bell?»
My hand trembled, and the cup clinked slightly against the saucer. A familiar face appeared on the screen—painfully familiar, though a bit aged, but still as confidently impeccable.
«The head of ‘RomanovGroup’ is suspected of major financial frauds.» And below, in small print: «Discussions continue around the strange disappearance of his bride 15 years ago.»
«Lena, do you realize what you’re saying? I can’t just return!»
I paced the rental apartment, phone pressed to my ear. Lena, the only one I trusted with the truth, spoke quickly and insistently:
«Nastya, listen! His company is under close scrutiny, he’s never been so vulnerable. This is your chance to take back your life!»
«What life? The one where I was a frivolous girl, nearly a murderer’s victim?»
«No, the one where you are Anastasia Vitalyevna Sokolova, not some Vera from a coffee shop!»
I paused in front of the mirror. The woman looking back at me had grown older and more cautious. Silver threads had started to appear in my hair, and a steely gleam shone in my eyes.
«Lena, his mother saved my life then. How is she now?»
«Vera Nikolaevna is in a nursing home. Sergey has long distanced her from the company’s affairs. They say she asked too many questions.»
The nursing home «Golden Autumn» was located in a scenic area just outside the city limits. Posing as a social worker (the necessary papers were easily accessible thanks to my savings), I was easily led to Vera Nikolaevna.
She sat by the window in a chair—so fragile and aged that it took my breath away. But her eyes—those same perceptive and tenacious eyes—recognized me instantly.
«I knew you would come, Nastenka,» she simply said. «Sit down, tell me how you’ve lived these years.»
I told her about my new life—about the café, quiet evenings with books, about learning to start over. She listened, occasionally nodding, then said:
«He planned to stage an accident during the honeymoon on a yacht. Everything was prepared in advance.» Her voice trembled:
«And now he’s sent me here to live out my days because I started digging into his affairs. Do you know how many ‘accidents’ have happened over these years with his partners?»
«Vera Nikolaevna,» I cautiously took her hand. «Do you have proof?»
She smiled:
«Dear, I have a whole safe of evidence. You think I’ve been silent all these years for nothing? I was waiting. Waiting for you to return.»
The same steely fire that I saw each morning in the mirror sparked in her eyes.
«Well, dear bride,» she squeezed my hand, «shall we give my son a belated wedding surprise?»
«Are you from the inspectors?» the secretary skeptically examined my documents.
«Exactly,» I adjusted my glasses in a stern frame. «Emergency audit related to recent publications.»
The office assigned to me within the walls of «RomanovGroup» was two floors below Sergey’s. Every morning, I watched his black Maybach arrive at the main entrance. Sergey had hardly changed—still impeccably postured, elegantly suited, with the customary look of a man who commands everything. His lawyers had successfully quashed the scandal so far, but it was only a matter of time.
«Margarita Olegovna, do you have a minute?» I approached the passing chief accountant. «It seemed or are there certain… discrepancies in the 2023 report?»
The chief accountant visibly paled. As Vera Nikolaevna suspected, this woman knew too much and was looking for a way to clear her conscience.
«Nastya, something’s wrong,» Lena’s voice trembled on the phone. «I’ve been followed for two days now.»
«Stay calm,» I locked the office. «Is the flash drive in a safe place?»
«Yes, but Sergey’s people…»
«Be ready. And remember—tomorrow at ten, as we agreed.»
I approached the window. Two burly men in civilian clothes loomed at the entrance. The company’s security service was getting anxious. It was time to accelerate events.
«Sergey Valeryevich, a visitor for you,» the secretary barely contained a tremble in her voice.
«I made it clear—let no one in!»
«She says… you left her at the altar fifteen years ago.»
A heavy silence hung in the office. I decisively entered, not waiting for permission.
Sergey slowly raised his head from the documents. His face was a frozen mask.
«You…»
«Hello, dear. Didn’t expect me?»
He abruptly pressed a button on the phone:
«Security to me!»
«No need,» I placed a folder on the desk. «Your documents are already with the investigators. Margarita Olegovna turned out to be surprisingly talkative. And your mother… she’s been gathering compromising material on you for years.»
His hand reached for the desk drawer.
«I wouldn’t advise it,» I cautioned. «Gunfire will cause unnecessary noise. And prosecutors are already waiting at the main entrance.»
For the first time, I saw fear appear on his face.
«What do you want?» he hissed.
«The truth. Tell about the yacht. About the ‘accident’ you planned.»
He leaned back in his chair and unexpectedly laughed:
«You’ve grown up, Nastya. Yes, I was going to eliminate you. Your inheritance was supposed to be an investment for the business. And then… I had to play the role of a grieving fiancé for years to keep anyone from asking too many questions.»
«And how many lives have you taken over these years?»
«This is business, kid. There’s no room for feelings here.»
The noise outside the door grew louder—the investigators were approaching.
«You know what?» I leaned closer to him. «Thanks to your mother. She not only saved my life but also taught me patience: sometimes you need to wait a long time to strike accurately.»
Three months later, I sat in my favorite coffee shop in Kaliningrad. The courtroom proceedings were broadcast on the TV—Sergey was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. Exactly the amount of time I had spent wandering.
«Your cappuccino, professor,» I set a cup in front of a regular customer.
«Thank you, Vera… I mean, Anastasia Vitalyevna,» he smiled sheepishly. «Will you return to your former life now?»
I looked around my coffee shop, the cozy corners, the regulars who had become a second family.
«You know, professor… Maybe the former life wasn’t real? Maybe I’m just starting a full life now. I’ve bought this coffee shop and I’m staying here.»
Outside, spring rain filled the air with the freshness of freedom.
From the husband’s perspective, the story might have unfolded like this:
I adjusted my tie in front of the mirror. There was a week left until the ceremonial ceremony, and every step was calculated to the smallest detail. Except for one thing—my damn mother, who had been too observant of me lately.
Three months ago, everything seemed perfectly simple. We sat in the «Jean-Jacques» restaurant with Igor and Dima, partners in business, or rather, what we called business.
«Guys, there’s a problem,» I swirled a glass of whiskey in my hands. «We need five million euros to start. Without them, our Chinese contract is doomed.»
«We could take out a loan…» began Dima.
«Who would approve such a large loan for us?» I smirked. «After the real estate failure, that’s hardly possible.»
Igor silently examined the ceiling, then slowly said: «What about your fiancée? Didn’t you tell us about her family’s decent fortune?»
I froze. Anastasia. Beautiful, trusting Anastasia with her inheritance from her grandfather—a network of jewelry boutiques and impressive accounts in Swiss banks.
«Don’t even think about it,» shook his head Dima. «It’s too dangerous.»
«Why?» Igor leaned forward. «Accidents happen. Especially during the honeymoon. Yachts are so unreliable…»
Anastasia lost her heart to me on our third date. I realized it when she looked at me across the table in the «Pushkin» restaurant. Her eyes glowed, and her fingers nervously played with a napkin. She talked about her work in the gallery, and I diligently feigned interest, mentally rejoicing at how easily everything was unfolding.
«Serezhenka, why do you always turn off your phone when we’re together?» she once asked.
«Because I want to be only with you,» I answered with a smile, grateful for the acting courses I attended at university.
She blushed and believed. Believed everything else—my stories about successful deals, compliments, promises. I nodded and smiled, calculating sums in my mind.
Only my mother watched me with suspicion. Especially when she noticed documents for a yacht on my table.
«Sergey,» she addressed me during dinner, stirring the cooled borscht, «you never liked water. What yacht?»
«For the honeymoon, Mom. I want to create a surprise for Nastya.»
She looked at me for a long time, then quietly said: «I don’t recognize you, son. What have you gotten into?»
The day before the ceremony, we met with the guys in my office. The plan was thoroughly worked out:
Wedding. Honeymoon on a yacht. Tragic incident in the open sea. A grieving widower gains access to his wife’s finances. «What if she refuses to go on the yacht?» asked Dima.
«She won’t refuse,» I smiled. «She’s so happy she’ll agree to anything.»
In the evening, my mother tried to talk to me again: «Sergey, stop this. I see that this is not you. Remember who you used to be…»
«Who, Mom? A loser with debts? No, I’ll solve my own problems.»
«At what cost?» her voice trembled.
«Any cost,» I sharply replied and left for my room.
The wedding morning started with hustle and champagne. I stood in front of the mirror, examining my reflection—impeccable suit, confident smile, cold gaze. In my pocket were tickets for tomorrow’s flight and documents for the yacht.
«Ready?» Igor peeked into the room.
«More than,» I adjusted my tie for the last time. «Time to become a happy groom.»
Events then developed out of plan.
I perfectly played the role of a worried groom for the first half hour.
«Where’s Nastya? Who saw the bride?»
Guests scattered throughout the mansion, checking every room. I darted among them, demonstrating anxiety, occasionally dialing her number. Nastya’s phone was unavailable.
«Maybe she’s just nervous?» suggested one of the bridesmaids. «Pre-wedding jitters happen…»
I absently nodded but continued to watch my mother. She sat in a chair, motionless, with an expression of strange satisfaction on her face. This was not concern—this was certainty.
«Damn it, Sergey!» Igor paced my office when the guests had dispersed. «What do we do now?»
«We file a report with the police,» I rubbed my temples. «We’ll search for the missing bride.»
«You don’t get it. What about the plan? The yacht is booked, all details are worked out…»
«The plan is adjusted,» I poured brandy into a glass. «Now I turn into a grieving fiancé whose beloved mysteriously disappeared on the eve of the celebration.»
«And the funds?» dared to interject Dima, who had been silent until then.
«We’ll find an alternative approach.»
Dima, after some silence, asked: «Sergey, could Mom have influenced it somehow?»
I sharply turned to him: «What are you implying?»
«Well, she’s been acting pretty strange lately. Maybe she suspected something?»
The picture in my head began to clear: my mother’s behavior, her questions, her actions at the wedding…
«Damn,» I muttered through my teeth. «She ruined everything.»
Late in the evening, I found her in the winter garden. She tended to her favorite orchids as if nothing special had happened.
«What did you tell her?»
Mother didn’t even turn around: «The truth, sonny. The very one you’ve been so diligently hiding.»
«Do you even realize what you’ve done?» grabbing her shoulder, I raised my voice. «How much money and effort were wasted!»
Finally, she looked up: «And do you realize what you were about to do? Destroy a girl who believed in you?»
«Business, Mom. No personal emotions.»
«Business?» she laughed bitterly. «When did you turn into such a person? Could that little boy who cried over his hamster’s sore paw calmly plan murders?»
«Enough!» I knocked the watering can from her hands. «You’ve ruined everything. But don’t worry, I’ll find a way to fix the situation.»
«How exactly? Will you destroy me too?»
I froze. In her gaze, there was no fear—just boundless fatigue and deep disappointment.
«No, Mom. However, you will have to step back from participating in the company’s affairs. For your own good.»
A week passed. The story of the mysteriously vanished bride gained wide publicity. I gave interviews, offered a reward for information, displayed the sorrow of an alleged groom. The press swallowed this story whole.
«And where to now?» Igor asked when we met in the new office.
«We’ll develop the business in other ways,» I handed him a folder with documents. «There are a few companies that can be acquired at a reasonable price. Their owners suddenly found themselves in a difficult situation…»
«A coincidence?» he smirked.
«Something like that,» I smiled. «Main rule—no more weddings. Too complicated to organize.»
Looking out the window where city lights twinkled in the darkening sky, I thought of Nastya. Wherever she was now, it no longer mattered. New prospects lay before me, and this time, no one could break them.
Even my own mother.
However, she still managed to do it, and you know the ending.
