Alina stared at the WhatsApp invitation for a long time.
“Let’s meet like adults. Talk. No drama. Dimka.”
She wanted to delete the message. Everything had already been decided: divorce, division of property, her apartment would remain with her — thankfully, the paperwork was in order. But something twinged inside. Maybe he really did want to make peace?
“Fine,” she sighed. “One last time.”
The restaurant was expensive but cozy. Dmitry was already sitting at a table by the window, and next to him was his mother, Galina. When he saw Alina, he smiled in a forced way.
“Oh, you came!” he exclaimed, as if they hadn’t seen each other for five minutes, not six months.
“Hi,” Alina replied dryly, lowering herself into the chair.
Galina Ivanovna immediately poured her some wine and said in a sugary voice:
“Well, finally! We were starting to think you’d stay offended forever.”
“It’s too late for me to be offended,” Alina pushed the glass aside. “Why did you call me?”
Dmitry exchanged a glance with his mother, then gently laid his hand on Alina’s.
“Alina, we’re family. Yes, there were mistakes, but…”
“Mistakes?” She jerked her hand away. “You call cheating a ‘mistake’?”
Galina gave a fake cough.
“Oh come on, Alinochka… Men are all like that. What matters is that Dimka realized it.”
“Realized?” Alina laughed. “He brought that… what’s her name… Lenka into our bedroom!”
“That was one time!” Dmitry suddenly frowned. “What, are you going to throw that in my face for the rest of my life?”
“No,” Alina took a sip of water, trying not to shake. “Because we don’t have a shared life anymore.”
Galina set her glass down with a sharp clink.
“That’s how it always is! You don’t even try to understand my son!”
“Mom, don’t,” Dmitry pretended to calm her, but irritation was clearly visible in his eyes.
Alina felt something was off. They were up to something.
“Okay,” she grabbed her bag. “If you called me just to justify him again, you’ve wasted your time.”
“Wait!” Dmitry suddenly grabbed her by the wrist. “We… we want to offer you an option.”
“What option?”
“The apartment,” Galina hissed. “It was ours to begin with!”
Alina froze.
“What?”
“Mom invested money in it!” Dmitry started talking quickly, like reciting a memorized script. “And you’re just registered there. Let’s not make a scene… We’re willing to compensate you.”
Alina slowly stood up.
“You… you’re serious?”
“Of course!” Galina flashed a smile. “We’re not monsters.”
“Uh-huh,” Alina burst into sharp laughter. “So you decided that since the husband cheated, now I should also hand over the apartment?”
“You don’t understand!” Dmitry suddenly slammed his fist on the table. “It’s our property!”
Silence.
Alina exhaled slowly, looking them in the eye.
“Fine. If that’s how it is…”
She took out her phone and turned on the voice recorder.
“Repeat that. Whose apartment is it?”
Galina went pale.
“What are you doing, recording us?!”
“Yes. So I’ll have something to show in court later.”
Dmitry jumped to his feet, but Alina had already stepped away toward the exit.
“That’s it, my dears. This conversation is over.”
She walked out into the street, shaking with rage.
“So that’s how it is…”
Now she knew for sure — the war had begun.
Rain was tapping against the window ledge when Alina returned home. Her hands were still shaking — she couldn’t believe Dmitry and his mother’s nerve.
“The apartment is theirs? Seriously?” she muttered, slamming the door hard.
She tossed her bag on the couch and reached for some tea. She needed to calm down. But her thoughts circled around one thing: “They’re up to something. And they remembered the apartment now for a reason.”
The tea turned out bitter. Alina grimaced and went to the table — maybe she’d find some cookies. As she opened a drawer, she snagged a folder with documents.
“Damn it…”
The papers scattered across the floor. Swearing, she began gathering them up, when she suddenly noticed a strange sheet.
“What’s this?”
A neat printed form on good-quality paper. At the top, a threatening title: “Deed of Gift.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“No way…”
She quickly skimmed the text. Everything was clear and precise: “I, Alina Sergeyevna Kovalyeva, voluntarily transfer as a gift to Galina Ivanovna Mironova my apartment located at the address…”
Her signature was there. An exact copy.
“What the hell?!”
Her hands trembled harder. She turned the sheet over — on the back were draft notes: “Witnesses – Petrov and Sidorova. Date – November 15. Notary – Larina.”
Alina jumped to her feet so fast she almost knocked over the chair.
“They’re forging documents!”
She instantly recalled Dmitry’s expression at dinner — that fake assertiveness. Now everything became clear: they wanted to seize the apartment through the court, making her look like an idiot who “gave it away herself and then changed her mind.”
“No, you bastards… it won’t be that easy.”
She grabbed her phone and took a photo of the deed. Then she went online — she needed to find a lawyer immediately.
At that moment the phone rang. An unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Alina Sergeyevna?” a female voice sounded official. “This is notary Larina’s office. We’re reminding you about your appointment tomorrow at 2 p.m. to certify the documents.”
Alina froze.
“What documents?”
“The deed of gift. You submitted the application yourself.”
“I didn’t submit anything!”
There was an awkward pause on the other end.
“That’s strange… All the paperwork is here. Your husband personally brought your passport details.”
“My husband?!” Alina’s voice broke into a scream. “We’re divorced!”
“Oh…” An uncomfortable silence hung in the receiver. “Then… there might be a mistake.”
“What mistake?!” Alina was barely controlling herself. “This is fraud!”
She hung up and angrily threw the phone onto the couch.
Now everything was finally obvious. They didn’t just want the apartment — they had already started acting.
“Fine… if that’s how it is, then this war is going to get dirty.”
Alina went to the closet and pulled out an old voice recorder. She pressed “play.”
Dmitry’s voice came from the tiny speaker:
“Who do you think you are without me? The apartment is mine and you’ll give it up. Or I’ll drag you around the courts so hard you’ll run away on your own!”
The recording had been made during their last big fight. Back then she kept it just in case… “for some day.”
Now that “day” had come.
“My dear ex…” Alina smiled with not a hint of warmth. “You wanted a war? You’ll get one.”
Tomorrow she was going to a lawyer. And now she had a weapon.
Lawyer Marina Semyonova’s office was in an old business center. The elevator creaked its way up to the fifth floor, and Alina nervously twisted the strap of her bag. Inside lay photos of the forged deed and the recorder with the threats.
“Come in, have a seat.”
Marina Semyonovna turned out to be a woman in her fifties with a sharp gaze. She carefully studied the documents, occasionally furrowing her brow.
“So… A deed of gift supposedly signed by you. Notary Larina… Interesting.”
“They want to take the apartment through the court,” Alina’s voice trembled. “They already even made an appointment with the notary in my name!”
“Without your presence?”
“Yes! My ex-husband brought some papers and said I’d asked him to file them.”
The lawyer slowly shook her head.
“Bold. Very bold.”
She set the papers aside and picked up the recorder.
“And this is what?”
“A recording where Dmitry threatens me. Says that ‘the apartment is his.’”
“Turn it on.”
Alina pressed the button. Dmitry’s rough, angry voice filled the room:
“You think the court will help you? I’ll drag you through all the instances! The apartment is mine and you’ll admit it. Or do you want everyone to find out what a bitch you are?”
Marina raised an eyebrow.
“Hm… This is serious. Threats and pressure.”
“Can this be used?”
“Not just can,” the lawyer put the recorder into her desk drawer. “It’s key evidence. But it’s not enough on its own.”
She opened her laptop and quickly typed something.
“First, we file a statement with the police about attempted fraud. Second, we request all the documents your husband submitted from notary Larina.”
“And if they refuse?”
“They won’t. They have a license, they don’t want trouble.”
Alina felt a small spark of hope light up inside.
“And… what then?”
“Then it gets interesting,” the lawyer smiled without warmth. “We file a counterclaim. We not only challenge this ‘deed of gift,’ but also demand compensation for moral damages.”
“You think it will work?”
“If we do everything right — yes. Do you have anything else on your husband? Any facts, witnesses?”
Alina thought for a moment.
“There is one thing…”
She took out her phone and opened the gallery. She scrolled to the very bottom — where she rarely looked.
“Here.”
On the screen was a photo of Dmitry hugging a young girl. The date showed it was taken a month before their divorce.
“That’s that Lena?”
“Yes. And the picture was taken in our bedroom.”
Marina studied the image carefully.
“Excellent. This proves he was cheating on you even before the divorce. That’ll work in our favor in court.”
Alina took a deep breath.
“So… we have a chance?”
“More than a chance. We have a plan.”
The lawyer pulled out a notepad and began writing quickly.
“Tomorrow we go to the police. Then to the notary. And after that…”
She looked Alina straight in the eye.
“Then we start the war.”
The morning began with an unpleasant phone call. Not fully awake, Alina automatically reached for her phone.
“Hello?”
“This is notary Larina’s office. We’d like to remind you that today at 2 p.m. you are scheduled…”
Alina jolted upright in bed.
“I told you yesterday I never made any appointment!”
“We have your application,” the voice turned colder. “If your plans have changed…”
“What application?!” Alina was already shouting. “This is fraud! I’m going to the police!”
She threw the phone on the bed. Her hands shaking, she poured herself coffee, but couldn’t drink — her mouth was dry. One thought pounded in her head: “They’ve already prepared everything. They’re sure they’ll win.”
At 10 a.m. she met Marina Semyonovna in front of the police station. The lawyer looked fresh and businesslike, holding a thick folder.
“I’ve prepared the documents. Let’s go file the report.”
They were received quickly at the station. The investigator, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, carefully examined the materials.
“Forging documents… A serious accusation. Do you have proof?”
“Here’s a photo of the deed I found at home,” Alina handed him a printout. “And a recording of the conversation with the notary.”
The investigator nodded.
“We’ll process it. But you’ll need to come to the notary’s office — to officially deny your signature.”
“We’re going there today,” Marina said firmly.
Notary Larina’s office turned out to be a luxurious suite in the city center. Crystal chandeliers, expensive furniture — everything screamed of wealth. Behind the desk sat a well-groomed woman of about forty-five — Larina herself.
“Ah, here is ‘our client,’” she cast Alina a cold look. “I’ve already heard about your… complaints.”
“My client didn’t sign any documents,” Marina said crisply. “We demand you provide all the papers submitted by Dmitry Kovalyov.”
Larina smiled slowly.
“Everything is done according to the law. Here is the application, here is the copy of the passport…”
Alina glanced at the papers and gasped.
“This is a fake! My passport has never looked like that!”
Indeed, the photocopy was blurry, the data barely legible.
“And the signature isn’t mine!” With shaking hands, Alina pulled out her own passport. “Here, compare!”
Larina frowned. She took both documents and spent a long time comparing them.
“Strange…” she finally said. “There really are discrepancies.”
“‘Strange’?” Alina exploded. “It’s a crime! You were about to certify a forgery!”
“Calm down,” Larina suddenly changed her tone. “I couldn’t have known… Your husband provided all the documents, said you were ill and couldn’t come in person…”
“Don’t lie!” Marina cut in. “We’re filing a complaint with the notarial chamber. And by the way,” she took out a recorder, “this conversation is being recorded.”
Larina turned pale.
“Wait… Let’s not go to extremes. I’ll annul this record, destroy the documents…”
“It’s too late,” Alina said coldly. “You’re an accomplice to fraud now.”
When they left the office, Alina took a deep breath.
“Did we win?”
“This is only the beginning,” the lawyer warned. “Now Dmitry knows you’re aware of his plans. Be ready for new attacks.”
As if on cue, her phone rang. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Alina Sergeyevna?” a male voice asked. “This is the property management company. You have a large overdue balance on your utilities. If within three days…”
Alina hung up mid-sentence.
“It’s started already,” she whispered.
Marina nodded grimly.
“They’re trying to put pressure on you. Don’t react. Tomorrow we’ll file the lawsuit in court.”
Alina looked up at the gray sky. Rain was about to start.
“Fine. Let the war go on.”
Alina was woken by an insistent doorbell. It was 7:30 a.m. — unusually early for her after a sleepless night. She threw on a robe and went to the peephole.
“Who is it?”
“Open up, police!”
Two uniformed officers stood outside. Alina instinctively smoothed her messy hair and opened the door.
“Alina Kovalyova? We need to speak with you.”
She let them in, her heart pounding wildly. The older, stocky lieutenant pulled out a notebook.
“We received a complaint from Dmitry Kovalyov. He says you threatened to kill him.”
“What?!” Alina grabbed the back of a chair. “That’s nonsense!”
“We have an audio recording,” the younger officer took out a recorder. Alina heard her own voice, distorted by interference: “I’ll kill you, you bastard! You’re going to die!”
She turned white.
“That’s fake! I never said that!”
“The complaint has been filed,” the lieutenant said dryly. “You are required to come in and give a statement. Today before 2 p.m.”
When the police left, Alina called Marina in despair. The lawyer listened and exhaled sharply.
“Classic. They beat us to it with a complaint. Get to my office, fast.”
On the way to the lawyer, her boss called.
“Alina, come to my office. It’s urgent.”
In his office, he avoided her eyes.
“We’re doing staff reductions. You’re on the list.”
“Why me? I have the best numbers in the department!”
“Management’s decision,” he shrugged. “By the way… someone from the bank called you. They asked me to tell you it’s urgent.”
Alina walked out feeling the ground slip from under her feet. At the bank, they told her that due to an “adjusted credit rating,” she needed to repay her loan early — 1.2 million rubles.
At the lawyer’s office, Marina listened carefully, taking notes.
“Police, job, bank… They’re hitting from all sides. This isn’t random — this is a clear plan.”
“What do I do?” Alina’s voice trembled.
“First, we file a statement about falsified evidence. That recording will have digital traces. Second,” the lawyer raised a finger, “we have to find who’s backing your dismissal.”
“How?”
“Dmitry couldn’t organize all this alone. He has connections.”
At that moment the secretary walked in.
“You received a package.”
Alina opened the envelope. Inside was a photograph: her apartment door, with red paint scrawled on it — “GET OUT OF OUR HOME!”
“That’s it, I’ve had enough!” Alina jumped up, clutching the photo. “I’m filing a counter-complaint! Against my husband and his mommy!”
Marina nodded.
“Good. But first…” she opened her laptop, “let’s check who the legal owner of your apartment actually is.”
After ten minutes of tense waiting, a response came from the real estate registry. Alina stared at the screen in horror.
“No way…”
It turned out that a week earlier a request for transfer of title had been registered. The basis: a “lost purchase agreement with a buyback option.”
“That’s a forgery!” Alina screamed. “I bought the apartment myself, no ‘buyback’!”
“Calm down,” the lawyer put a hand on her shoulder. “This is just another fake. But now we have a clearly defined criminal offense — large-scale fraud.”
She dialed a number.
“Hello, Economic Crimes Unit? I have a client who wants to file a report…”
Alina looked out the window where the first drops of rain were beginning to fall. For the first time in days she felt not fear, but cold anger.
“They’re playing well,” she whispered. “But I’m only just starting to hit back.”
Rain lashed against the investigator’s office window. Alina squirmed on the hard chair, glancing at the worn nameplate: “Senior Lieutenant Volkov.” The door opened and a tired-looking man with a folder entered.
“Kovalyova? We processed your statement. But there are nuances.”
He sat down opposite her, leaning back.
“Your husband has provided strong evidence. Here,” he opened the folder, “a printout of a chat where you threaten him and his mother.”
Alina jumped to her feet.
“That’s fake! I never—”
“Sit!” the investigator slammed his fist on the table. “We’ll sort it out. Give me your phone.”
She silently handed over her smartphone. Volkov connected it to his laptop.
“Hm… Interesting. These messages really are missing from your history. But that doesn’t prove anything — they could have been deleted.”
“Or never sent at all!” Alina clenched her fists. “Check the IP addresses, the timestamps!”
The investigator raised an eyebrow.
“You know your way around this? All right, we’ll send it for analysis. But keep in mind — while the review is ongoing, the complaint about threats remains active. You cannot approach your husband or his mother.”
Alina left the police station feeling fury burn her from the inside. She tried calling Marina, but the lawyer didn’t pick up. So she decided to walk home — she needed to cool down.
Near an old park, a stranger called out to her.
“Alina? Is that you?”
She turned and saw a slender blonde in a long coat. The face seemed familiar.
“Do I know you?”
“I’m Lena. Just not the one who…” the woman smiled nervously. “I’m Dmitry’s first wife. Natalya.”
Alina froze. Old photos she’d once seen flashed in her memory.
“What do you want?”
“To talk. I know what he’s doing to you. He did the same to me.”
They went into a nearby café. With shaking fingers, Natalya unfolded a napkin.
“When we divorced, he tried to take my child away from me. Said I was a bad mother. The court dragged on for six months.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I saw the news,” Natalya took out her phone. On the screen was a local social media post: “Psycho woman threatens ex-husband.”
Alina swallowed a lump in her throat. A photo of her with the caption “wanted” was already racking up hundreds of likes.
“My God… That fast…”
“He has connections in the media,” Natalya leaned closer. “Listen, I can help. I still have audio recordings of him threatening me. And something else…”
She pulled an envelope from her bag. Inside was a printout of a bank transfer — 50,000 rubles from Dmitry to notary Larina’s account.
“It’s a bribe. For forging documents in my case.”
Alina stared at the paper in disbelief.
“Why didn’t you use this back then?”
“I was scared. I have a son. But now…” Natalya took a deep breath, “now I realize he won’t stop. At anything.”
They agreed to meet tomorrow at Marina’s office. Leaving the café, Alina felt the first flicker of hope. But just then her phone vibrated. Another unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Your neighbor,” a hissing female voice said. “You might want to check your mailbox. There’s something there… brr.”
Alina rushed home. In the mailbox lay a box. When she opened it, she found a dead rat and a note: “You’re next.”
Her hands shook, but now it wasn’t from fear. She took a picture of the “present,” then dialed Natalya.
“You said you have recordings? Bring everything. Tomorrow we’re going to the police. And this time they won’t be able to pretend nothing is happening.”
That night Alina didn’t sleep at all. She sat by the window, staring at the dark street, and made a list. A list of all of Dmitry’s crimes. And she understood — now she had a weapon. A real one.
The courtroom was packed. Alina sat at the table, clutching the document folder in her hands. Next to her was Marina, cold and composed. Across from them, with a smug smirk, sat Dmitry and his mother. Galina gave Alina a contemptuous look, whispering something into her son’s ear.
“All rise, the court is in session!”
The judge — a stern-faced woman in her fifties — took her seat.
“The court is hearing the case of plaintiff Dmitry Kovalyov concerning recognition of ownership rights to the apartment.”
Dmitry stepped forward, adopting a sorrowful expression.
“Your honor, I only ask that justice be restored. This apartment was bought with my mother’s money. Alina took advantage of my trust and registered it in her own name.”
“Lies!” burst out of Alina, but the lawyer quietly laid a hand on her wrist.
“Do you have any evidence?” the judge asked.
“Of course.” Dmitry handed over documents. “Here is the purchase contract with buyback clause. And witness statements.”
The judge glanced through the papers.
“Ms. Kovalyova, your objections?”
Marina stood up.
“Your honor, we submit the handwriting expert’s conclusion. The signature on this contract is forged.”
She passed the judge a thick file.
“Furthermore, we have audio recordings of Mr. Kovalyov threatening my client. And witness testimony from his ex-wife.”
Galina sprang to her feet.
“What ex-wife?! This is a setup!”
“Sit down!” the judge snapped. “Continue.”
Marina turned on the recorder.
‘You think the court will help you? I’ll break you. The apartment will be mine, whether you like it or not!’
A murmur swept through the courtroom. Dmitry turned pale.
“It’s doctored!”
“The forensic examination confirmed the recording is authentic,” the lawyer said calmly. “And that’s not all.”
She handed the judge the bank transfer printout.
“Mr. Kovalyov transferred 50,000 rubles to notary Larina as payment for forging documents.”
Dmitry jumped up, knocking over his chair.
“You’re lying!”
“Sit down!” the judge banged her gavel. “If you don’t calm down, I’ll have you removed from the courtroom.”
Alina watched his face twist with fury. For the first time in all these months, he was losing control.
Marina went on:
“In addition, we filed a complaint with the police regarding forged threats allegedly sent from my client. The examination established that the audio recording was edited.”
The judge studied the documents, then looked up.
“Do you have anything else?”
“Yes.” Alina stood up. “I want to speak.”
She took a deep breath.
“I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know all the legal details. But I know this apartment is mine. I paid for it, I lived in it. And what’s happening now isn’t about restoring justice. It’s revenge.”
She looked straight at Dmitry.
“But I’m not afraid.”
Silence descended over the room.
The judge set the documents aside.
“The court’s decision will be announced in three days. Hearing adjourned.”
When they stepped outside, Alina felt the trembling finally leaving her body.
“Did we win?”
“Not yet,” Marina said. “But we’ve done everything we could.”
Just then her phone rang. Alina picked up — another unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Alina Sergeyevna?” a man’s voice asked formally. “This is the bank. We’ve received a report of fraudulent activity on your card. Your account has been blocked.”
She slowly lowered the phone.
“They’re not giving up.”
“And neither are we,” the lawyer said firmly. “Now we go on the offensive.”
Alina looked up at the gray sky. Somewhere behind the clouds, a ray of light was already breaking through.
The three days of waiting turned into pure torture for Alina. She hardly slept, nervously checking her email and phone every five minutes. The bank still hadn’t unblocked her account, and someone kept slipping vile notes under her door.
But today the outcome of the war would be decided.
Alina stood in front of the mirror, straightening her tailored jacket. For the first time in months she put on bright lipstick — like armor before the final battle.
“Ready?” Marina was waiting in the hallway.
“More than ever.”
The courtroom was almost empty — only the required parties were present. Dmitry sat openly yawning, while his mother furiously whispered to their lawyer.
“All rise, the court is in session!”
The judge entered with a folder in her hands. Her face revealed nothing.
“Ruling in case no…”
Alina froze, digging her nails into her palms.
“The plaintiff’s claims by Dmitry Kovalyov are granted in part…”
Her breath caught.
“…in the part concerning recognition of the deed of gift as invalid. In the remaining part, the claim is denied.”
“What does that mean?” Alina turned to her lawyer.
“It means the apartment stays yours,” Marina could barely hide a smile.
The judge continued:
“Simultaneously, the counterclaim by Alina Kovalyova to recover moral damages in the amount of 300,000 rubles is granted.”
Galina shot up as if stung.
“This is outrageous! We’ll appeal!”
“Silence!” the judge banged the gavel. “Furthermore, materials regarding forged documents have been sent to the investigative authorities. Court is adjourned.”
Alina could hardly believe her ears. They had won. For real.
At the exit, Dmitry blocked her way.
“You think this is over?” he hissed through his teeth. “I’ll eat you alive.”
“Go ahead, try,” she smiled into his face for the first time. “Now I’ve got your 300,000 to pay for a good lawyer.”
They stepped outside into bright sunlight.
“What now?” Alina asked.
“Now we sue the bank for illegally blocking your account. And your former boss — for unlawful dismissal.”
“And Dmitry?”
“Dmitry,” Marina grinned wickedly, “will soon be getting a summons in a criminal case. Forging documents carries up to three years.”
At home, Alina poured herself a glass of wine — her first in many months. She walked over to the window of her apartment. Her apartment.
The phone rang. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“It’s Natalya. Did you hear the news? Dmitry was just taken in for questioning. And his mommy…” there was triumphant glee in the ex-wife’s voice, “she’s at the station right now yelling that it’s all a setup.”
Alina laughed.
“Thank you. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it. You’re one of us now.”
She hung up and raised her glass.
“To a new life.”
Outside, the sunset painted the sky crimson. The war was over. And for the first time in a long time, Alina felt free.
P.S. A month later, Dmitry was fired from his job. Galina Ivanovna tried to file an appeal and lost. And Alina… Alina met Natalya in a café. They drank coffee and laughed about how beautifully life sometimes punishes scoundrels
