The mirror in the bedroom reflected a familiar scene: I was adjusting the folds of a modest gray dress that I had bought three years ago at an ordinary store. Dmitry stood nearby, fastening the cufflinks on his snow-white shirt — Italian, as he never tired of emphasizing at every opportunity.
«Are you ready?» he asked, without looking my way, busily brushing off nonexistent dust from his suit.
«Yes, we can go,» I replied, checking one last time if my hair was neatly styled.
He finally turned to me, and I saw in his eyes the familiar expression of slight disappointment. Dmitry silently looked me up and down, lingering on the dress.
«Don’t you have anything more decent?» he said in a tone tinged with his usual condescension.
I heard those words before every corporate event. Each time they stung like a prick — not fatal, but unpleasant. I had learned not to show how much it hurt. Learned to smile and shrug.
«This dress is perfectly suitable,» I said calmly.
Dmitry sighed as if I had let him down again.
«Alright, let’s go. Just try not to stand out too much, okay?»
We got married five years ago when I had just finished the economics faculty, and he was working as a junior manager at a trading company. Back then, he seemed to me an ambitious, purposeful young man with brilliant prospects. I liked how he talked about his plans, how confidently he looked to the future.
Over the years, Dmitry really climbed the career ladder. Now he was a senior sales manager handling major clients. The money he earned went toward his appearance: expensive suits, Swiss watches, a new car every two years. «Image is everything,» he liked to repeat. «People need to see that you’re successful, or they won’t deal with you.»
I worked as an economist at a small consulting firm, earned a modest salary, and tried not to burden the family budget with unnecessary expenses on myself. When Dmitry took me to corporate events, I always felt out of place. He introduced me to colleagues with a light irony: «Here’s my little gray mouse out on the town.» Everyone laughed, and I smiled, pretending I found it funny too.
Gradually, I began to notice how my husband had changed. Success had gone to his head. He started looking down not only on me but also on his employers. «I’m selling this junk made by our Chinese,» he said at home, sipping expensive whiskey. «The main thing is to pitch it right, and they’ll buy anything.»
Sometimes he hinted at some additional sources of income. «Clients appreciate good service,» he winked. «And they’re willing to pay extra for it. Personally, I understand, right?»
I understood but preferred not to delve into details.
Everything changed three months ago when a notary called me.
«Anna Sergeevna? This concerns the inheritance of your father, Sergey Mikhailovich Volkov.»
My heart skipped a beat. My father left our family when I was seven. Mom never told me what happened to him. I only knew that he worked somewhere, lived his own life, where there was no place for a daughter.
«Your father passed away a month ago,» the notary continued. «According to the will, you are the sole heir to all his property.»
What I found out at the notary’s office turned my world upside down. It turned out my father was not just a successful businessman — he had built an entire empire. An apartment in central Moscow, a country house, cars, but most importantly — an investment fund owning shares in dozens of companies.
Among the documents, I found a name that made me shudder: «TradeInvest» — the company where Dmitry worked.
The first weeks I was in shock. Every morning I woke up unable to believe it was real. I only told my husband that I had changed jobs — now I worked in the investment sector. He reacted indifferently, only muttering something about hoping my salary wouldn’t be less than before.
I began to study the fund’s affairs. My economic education helped a lot, but most importantly — I was genuinely interested. For the first time in my life, I felt I was doing something important, something meaningful.
I was especially interested in the company «TradeInvest.» I requested a meeting with the CEO, Mikhail Petrovich Kuznetsov.
«Anna Sergeevna,» he said when we were alone in his office, «I must be honest: the company’s situation isn’t very good. Especially the sales department has problems.»
«Tell me more.»
«We have one employee, Dmitry Andreev. Formally, he handles major clients, turnover is large, but profits are almost none. Moreover, many deals are unprofitable. There are suspicions of violations, but not enough evidence yet.»
I asked to conduct an internal investigation, without revealing the real reasons for my interest in this particular employee.
The investigation results came a month later. Dmitry was indeed embezzling company money, arranging with clients for «personal bonuses» in exchange for lowered prices. The sum was substantial.
By that time, I had updated my wardrobe. But true to myself, I chose understated clothes — only now they were from the world’s best designers. Dmitry didn’t notice the difference. For him, anything that didn’t scream price remained «gray mouse-ness.»
Last night, he announced they had an important corporate event tomorrow.
«A reporting dinner for top management and key employees,» he informed me importantly. «The entire company leadership will be there.»
«I see,» I replied. «What time should I be ready?»
Dmitry looked at me in surprise.
«I won’t take you there; there will be decent people, not your level,» he declared, unaware that I owned the company where he worked. «You understand, it’s a serious event. There will be people deciding my fate in the company. I can’t afford to look… well, you know.»
«Not really.»
«Anyechka,» he tried to soften the tone, «you’re a wonderful wife, but you lower my social status. Next to you, I look poorer than I really am. These people must see me as their equal.»
His words hurt, but not as sharply as before. Now I knew my worth. And I knew his.
«Fine,» I said calmly. «Have fun.»
This morning Dmitry left for work in a high mood. I put on a new Dior dress — dark blue, elegant, which emphasized my figure but remained restrained. Did professional makeup and styling. Looking in the mirror, I saw a completely different person. Confident, beautiful, successful.
I knew the restaurant where the event was held — one of the best in the city. Mikhail Petrovich met me at the entrance.
«Anna Sergeevna, glad to see you. You look wonderful.»
«Thank you. I hope today we can sum up results and outline plans for the future.»
The hall was full of people in expensive suits and dresses. The atmosphere was businesslike but welcoming. I talked with heads of other departments, met key employees. Many knew me as the new company owner, although this was not yet public information.
I noticed Dmitry immediately as he entered. He wore his best suit, a new haircut, looked confident and important. He scanned the hall, clearly assessing those present and his place among them.
Our eyes met. At first, he didn’t understand what he saw. Then his face twisted with anger. He decisively approached me.
«What are you doing here?» he hissed, coming close. «I told you this is not for you!»
«Good evening, Dima,» I replied calmly.
«Get out of here immediately! You’re embarrassing me!» He spoke quietly but fiercely. «And what’s this masquerade? Wearing your mouse rags again to humiliate me?»
Several people began looking our way. Dmitry noticed and tried to compose himself.
«Listen,» he said in a different tone, «don’t make a scene. Just leave quietly, and we’ll discuss everything at home.»
At that moment, Mikhail Petrovich approached us.
«Dmitry, I see you’ve already met Anna Sergeevna,» he said with a smile.
«Mikhail Petrovich,» Dmitry instantly switched to obsequious mode, «I didn’t invite my wife. Honestly, it’d be better if she went home. After all, it’s a business event…»
«Dmitry,» Mikhail Petrovich looked at him with surprise, «but I invited Anna Sergeevna. And she’s not going anywhere. As the company owner, she must be present at this reporting event.»
I watched how the information sank into my husband’s mind. First confusion, then realization, then horror. The color slowly drained from his face.
«Owner… of the company?» he asked barely audibly.
«Anna Sergeevna inherited the controlling stake from her father,» explained Mikhail Petrovich. «She is now our main shareholder.»
Dmitry looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. I read panic in his eyes. He understood that if I knew about his schemes, his career was over.
«Anya…» he began, and in his voice appeared notes I had never heard before. Plea. Fear. «Anya, we need to talk.»
«Of course,» I agreed. «But first, let’s listen to the reports. That’s why we’re here.»
The next two hours were torture for Dmitry. He sat next to me at the table, tried to eat, keep up conversation, but I saw how nervous he was. His hands trembled as he raised his glass.
After the official part, he pulled me aside.
«Anya, hear me out,» he spoke quickly, ingratiatingly. «I understand you probably know… I mean, maybe someone told you… But it’s all not true! Or not entirely true! I can explain everything!»
That pathetic, humiliated tone was even more repulsive to me than his former arrogance. At least then he was honest in his contempt for me.
«Dima,» I said quietly, «you have a chance to leave the company and my life quietly and gracefully. Think about it.»
But instead of accepting the offer, he exploded:
«What game are you playing?!» he shouted, ignoring that people were watching us. «You think you can prove something? You have nothing on me! It’s all speculation!»
Mikhail Petrovich gestured to security.
«Dmitry, you’re disturbing the order,» he said strictly. «Please leave the premises.»
«Anya!» Dmitry shouted as they escorted him out. «You’ll regret this! Hear me?!»
At home, a real scandal awaited me.
«What was that?!» he yelled. «What the hell were you doing there? Trying to set me up? You think I don’t know what that was — a performance?!»
He paced the room waving his arms, his face red with rage.
«You won’t prove anything! Nothing! It’s all your inventions and intrigues! And if you think I’ll let some fool control my life…»
«Dima,» I cut him off calmly, «the internal investigation at the company was initiated two months ago. Before you knew who I am.»
He fell silent, looking at me suspiciously.
«I asked Mikhail Petrovich to give you a chance to resign without consequences,» I continued. «But apparently, in vain.»
«What are you talking about?» His voice became quieter but no less angry.
«The investigation showed that in the last three years you embezzled about two million rubles. But probably much more. There are documents, recorded conversations with clients, banking operations. Mikhail Petrovich has already handed the materials over to law enforcement.»
Dmitry sank into the armchair as if weakened.
«You… you can’t…» he muttered.
«If you’re lucky,» I said, «you might negotiate compensation. The apartment and the car should cover it.»
«Idiot!» he exploded again. «Where will we live then?! You’ll have nowhere to live either!»
I looked at him with pity. Even now, in this situation, he thought only of himself.
«I have an apartment downtown,» I said quietly. «Two hundred square meters. And a house in the Moscow region. My personal driver is already waiting for me downstairs.»
Dmitry looked at me as if I spoke a foreign language.
«What?» he breathed out.
I turned away. He stood in the middle of the room — confused, broken, pathetic. The same man who that morning considered me unworthy to be seen with him among decent people.
«You know, Dima,» I said, «you were right. We really are different levels. Just not in the way you thought.»
I closed the door behind me and didn’t look back.
Downstairs, a black car with a driver was waiting for me. Sitting in the back seat, I looked out the window at the city, which now seemed different. Not because it had changed, but because I had changed.
The phone rang. Dmitry. I declined the call.
Then came a message: «Anya, forgive me. We can fix everything. I love you.»
I deleted the message without replying.
A new life awaited me in the new apartment. The one I should have started years ago but didn’t know I had the right to. Now I knew.
Tomorrow I would have to decide what to do with the company, the investment fund, my father’s inheritance. I would build a future that now depended only on my decisions.
And Dmitry… Dmitry would stay in the past. Along with all the humiliation, self-doubt, and feelings of inadequacy he had given me all those years.
I am no longer a little gray mouse. And I never was.
