— Misha, tell your wife to turn the music down, — his sister Marina’s voice barely hid her irritation.
— Mom’s got a headache because of your… well, how do you call it… avant-garde.
I lowered the volume. Not because Marina asked me to, but because of my mother-in-law, who was already pressing a finger to her temple. She always sided with her daughter—in every argument, tantrum, and complaint.
My husband just shrugged awkwardly. He wasn’t surprised by his mother’s and sister’s behavior: “Sorry, you know them.” Yes, I do. Five years of marriage have given me a perfect understanding of this family.
— Anya, don’t be upset, — began my mother-in-law in her sticky-sweet tone, which I mentally named “honeyed poison.” — We’re simple people, we like melodic, soulful things. But you have all this… anxiousness.
I nodded. What could I say? That this “anxious” soundtrack earned the film three Oscars?
That this apartment they consider the peak of my achievements is actually just one of my investments?
They wouldn’t believe it. To them, I’m still a poor orphan generously bestowed with family happiness by their Misha.
— Speaking of anxieties, — Marina chimed in, setting down a half-finished cup of coffee. — Tomorrow there’s a grand event at work — the new owner of the company will address the team.
She worked as a secretary at the large agroholding “Golden Ear.” Always complaining but clinging to her position for the “status, connections, and the downtown office.”
— What new owner? — Misha frowned. — Wasn’t everything stable?
— It was, but that’s over. They sold the company entirely. The name of the new owner is a secret—a dark horse, — Marina snorted. — Hopefully, they won’t cut salaries. I just planned my vacation in the Maldives.
She cast an appraising glance at me. I received it calmly. Behind that mask of indifference was everything: confidence in her superiority, slight mockery, and complete disrespect toward me.
Inside, I smiled. Dark horse. Funny. I hadn’t expected the purchase of “Golden Ear” to stir such interest even at the secretarial level.
By the way, I was the one who closed the deal a week ago through an offshore fund. Quietly, without fuss.
— Excellent choice, the Maldives are a wonderful place, — I said softly.
— Oh, Anya, you probably don’t find this very interesting, — Marina waved her hand like a socialite tired of foolish talk. — You and Misha live in a completely different rhythm. We’re used to being in circles where price tags don’t matter.
She hesitated, trying to find more delicate words, but failed miserably:
— I don’t want to offend, but I’m afraid our level is just unreachable for you. You’ll feel like an outsider.
Misha coughed, pretending to examine the wallpaper. Mother-in-law nodded approvingly.
I kept looking at Marina: her neat makeup, expensive watch, and self-satisfaction in her eyes.
She had no idea that her trips, career, and “elite circle” were now in my hands.
— Perhaps you’re right, — I said slowly, and my calm tone seemed to unsettle her. — Although maybe I have my own plates — and they’re far more interesting than the ones you’re thinking of.
I stood up from the table.
— Guests can serve themselves. I need to make a few work calls.
In the room, I dialed my assistant:
— Good evening, Oleg. Change of plans for tomorrow: I will personally attend the meeting at “Golden Ear.” Introduce me as the new owner. And please prepare an order for the dismissal of the general director’s secretary — Marina Viktorovna Sokolskaya. Reason: failure to meet job requirements.
In the morning, Misha, as usual, noticed nothing. He slipped off to work, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “Good luck at the interview!” I had once mentioned looking for a part-time job, so he felt more at ease.
The very idea that his wife could not just work but own a business was abstract, almost fantastic for him.
I was preparing carefully. I chose a strict dark blue pantsuit — no bright details, but perfect tailoring and high-quality fabric.
Light makeup, hair in a neat low bun. The look was more of a manager or lawyer than a wealthy empire owner.
The “Golden Ear” lobby was tense. Employees whispered, gathered in groups. I entered and stood a bit apart, observing.
My assistant Oleg, a solid-looking man, was already there. He nodded briefly from afar and continued talking with the current CEO.
Marina, as always, felt like the mistress of the situation. She flew around the lobby, giving orders, sharing “inside news.”
— They say he’s some IT guy, — she declared, theatrically rolling her eyes. — Now he’ll start teaching us how to properly harvest ears on Zoom. The main thing is, let him pay regularly.
Suddenly, her gaze fell on me. She frowned, trying to figure out what I was doing here.
— Anya? Is that you? — her voice carried bewilderment mixed with disdain. — Came for an interview? The HR department is on another floor.
I gave a barely perceptible smile.
— Just decided to drop by. Maybe there’s a vacancy — who knows?
Marina snorted and, not even trying to hide her contempt, turned to her colleagues.
At exactly ten, we were invited to the conference room. Marina fussed at the entrance, checking lists as a proper secretary should. She let me in with a look as if she was doing me a huge favor. I walked deeper into the hall and sat in the last row.
The CEO, pale and obviously nervous, stepped onto the stage and began quietly mumbling about development prospects and effective management. Finally, he reached the main point:
— And now I proudly present the new owner of our holding — “Golden Ear”!
The hall froze. Oleg, already waiting by the stage, signaled me to approach. I slowly stood up and walked down the central aisle. A whisper of surprise ran through the room; people’s faces changed in amazement. But I was only interested in one expression — Marina’s face.
She was frozen by the wall, her smug smile slowly fading, replaced by confusion. Her eyes widened, lips slightly parted — she looked at me as if she had seen a ghost.
Climbing the stage, I took the microphone from Oleg and scanned the hall calmly.
— Good afternoon, colleagues. My name is Anna Vorontsova. Today I become the new owner of the company.
Pausing, I let everyone grasp what they’d heard.
— I won’t give a long speech. I’ll just say: “Golden Ear” faces significant changes. We will move toward professionalism, growth, and high efficiency.
What interferes with this will remain in the past. The first personnel decisions have already been made. Oleg, please.
My assistant stepped forward with a folder in hand.
— By order number one, a new general director is appointed…
The noise in the hall grew. I continued looking at Marina. She still stood by the wall and, it seemed, had even stopped breathing.
— By order number two, — Oleg continued, — Marina Viktorovna Sokolskaya, secretary, is dismissed for systematic failure to perform duties and inconsistency with corporate ethics. Effective immediately.
For a second, there was complete silence — so dense it seemed tangible. Then hundreds of eyes turned either to petrified Marina or to me.
She was the first to come to herself. Her cheeks flushed, anger distorted her features.
— What?.. — she whispered, but her voice drowned in the tense atmosphere. Then she straightened. — This is impossible! You have no right! This is a mistake! I will complain!
— Complaints are accepted in writing at the HR department, — I replied into the microphone without a trace of emotion. — Allow me to continue.
I moved on to the business part, talking about development plans, new markets, investments in technology, and social programs for employees. I spoke as a leader, and people began to listen. To them, I was not just Misha’s wife or a wronged relative — I was the new owner making decisions.
When I finished, two security guards were already escorting Marina out of the hall. She didn’t resist — she walked like in a trance. Her old world had collapsed, and she didn’t yet understand how it happened.
At home, the scene was complete: Marina sat in the kitchen with red eyes, the sullen mother-in-law, and Misha pacing between them.
— Anya, how could you?! That’s my sister! My family! — he shouted as soon as I entered.
— Your sister, who humiliated your wife for the last five years, — I calmly replied, taking off my jacket. — And your family, which tolerated it.
— She’s just… she has that kind of character! — he tried to justify her.
— You destroyed my daughter’s life! — exclaimed mother-in-law, standing up. — Took everything away! Why do you hate us so much? Because we let you, a poor woman, into our home?
I looked at her. For the first time, I felt no fear or desire to justify myself. Only silence inside and freedom, sharp as ice.
— You didn’t accept me. You just tolerated me. Like a troublesome misunderstanding. And about poverty…
This apartment you consider “your home” — I bought it three years ago in Misha’s name so you’d have somewhere to live. The car your son drives — a gift from me. The company from which your daughter was fired — a small part of my business.
I wasn’t boasting. Just putting dots on the “i.”
Misha looked at me with wide-open eyes. He couldn’t believe it.
— Anya… why did you stay silent?
— Have you ever asked? — I smiled slightly. — It was convenient for you. A quiet, obedient wife who doesn’t interfere and doesn’t shine next to your “high-status” relatives. You preferred to see me dependent and weak. It was easier for you not to notice me as a person.
Marina was silent, shrinking in her chair. It was beginning to dawn on her.
— I’m filing for divorce, Misha, — I said quietly but firmly. — I no longer want to be your background. I want to live where I’m valued, not for money or despite it. But just valued.
I turned and headed to the door. No one tried to stop me. At the threshold, I glanced back:
— By the way, Marina. Don’t worry about the Maldives. Your trip was paid with the corporate card. And now it’s canceled.
