Irina stood in the corner of the hall, arranging name badges on the registration table. The charity event was just beginning, yet she already felt completely exhausted.
“Need some help?” a low male voice sounded behind her.
Turning around, she saw a tall young man in an impeccable suit. His eyes held a hint of mockery, as if he already knew that his help would be refused.
“Thanks, I’m managing,” Irina replied dryly, continuing to lay out the cards in order.
“Maxim Sokolov, the main sponsor,” he said, extending his hand. “And you, by the look of it, are from the foundation?”
“Irina. Yes, I’m a volunteer.”
Maxim spent the entire evening hovering around her. He watched her, approached, and joked. At first, Irina remained guarded; the self-assured rich man stirred mixed feelings in her.
“You never gave me your number,” he smiled at the end of the event. “I’ve been trying all evening to figure out how to persuade you.”
“Are you used to girls writing down their own numbers?” Irina snorted.
She decided to relax a bit and drop the formalities.
“I am. But you’re different. That’s why I liked you.”
She couldn’t quite explain why, but within minutes she was already entering her number into his phone.
After the third date at a trendy restaurant, Irina mustered the courage to ask:
“Why me? You have an entire chain of restaurants, money, fame… And I’m just a girl from the provinces.”
Maxim took her hand and looked into her eyes seriously:
“That’s exactly why. You’re genuine. You work at the foundation for peanuts, even though with your education you could work for a respectable company. You blush when I give you gifts. You don’t even know on which side of the plate the dessert spoon lies, and that is absolutely charming!”
“Well, social graces are clearly not my strong suit,” Irina smirked. “My parents spent their lives working at a factory. I paid for my own education.”
“And all my parents do is chase after money. Business, connections, reputation. No sincerity at all.”
Their romance blossomed rapidly. Six months later, Maxim took her to meet his parents.
“And where did you find her?” his mother whispered to her son, thinking Irina wasn’t listening.
His father merely gave her an appraising glance and returned to his drink.
“I think they don’t approve of me,” Irina said as they were driving back.
“They approve of no one except themselves,” Maxim brushed off. “Marry me!”
Irina froze, not believing her ears.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Absolutely!” Maxim said as he pulled a velvet box with a ring from his pocket. “I love you. And I want you to be my wife.”
When Irina called her parents with the news, her father remained silent for a long time.
“Sweetheart, aren’t you rushing?” her mother cautiously asked. “Six months is so little…”
“I love him, Mom.”
The wedding resembled a high-society gala. Two hundred and fifty guests, half of whom Maxim was meeting for the first time in his life—his parents’ business partners.
Irina’s parents sat in a far corner of the hall, awkwardly shifting in their new outfits. Her father kept adjusting his tie, and her mother didn’t know what to do with her hands.
“Do you see the woman in blue?” her mother-in-law whispered to Irina, pointing at one of the guests. “Her daughter was also vying to be Maxim’s bride. Three generations of textile tycoons!”
After the honeymoon in the Maldives, the newlyweds moved into an apartment bought by Maxim’s parents.
“Quit with that charity stuff,” her mother-in-law frowned as Irina was getting ready for work. “A Sokolov’s wife should take care of the home and her husband, not go to work.”
Maxim just shrugged:
“Mother is old-fashioned. Don’t mind her.”
But Irina saw that behind the glamorous façade of this life lay an abyss between their worlds. And she was standing right on the edge.
Two months after the wedding, her mother-in-law showed up unannounced in the morning just as Irina was leaving for work.
“Are you at that foundation again?” Elena Viktorovna pursed her lips, scrutinizing her daughter-in-law from head to toe. “Zoya Arkadyevna is hosting a charity breakfast today. I thought we’d go together.”
“Sorry, but I can’t cancel my meetings,” Irina replied as she buttoned up her coat. “Maybe next time?”
“Next time?” her mother-in-law raised her eyebrows in astonishment. “Girl, you don’t understand. This isn’t an invitation for tea. It’s an opportunity to meet the right people.”
Irina politely but firmly declined. That evening, a storm broke out.
“Mother was crying on the phone!” Maxim paced through the living room. “She says you humiliated her!”
“What?” Irina exclaimed in surprise, dropping her spoon. “I just said I couldn’t miss work!”
“Work?” Maxim snorted. “You’re now a Sokolov’s wife. That is your work!”
Irina stared at her husband in disbelief.
“So my education, my career, my dreams—do they mean nothing at all?” Irina looked at Maxim with indignation.
“Don’t twist my words! You can work in charity as a sponsor, not as an employee. It’s unbecoming for a Sokolov’s wife.”
A week later, at one of Maxim’s company’s corporate parties, another commotion erupted.
“Is it true that your wife works at a charity foundation?” one of Maxim’s colleagues inquired when Irina stepped away towards the appetizers table. “The only one in our circle who still works on the side!”
Maxim laughed along with everyone, but his face froze, like a mask. At home, another scandal broke out.
“You’re making a mockery of me!” he shouted, furiously yanking off his tie. “Everyone thinks I can’t provide for my own wife!”
“Why do you care more about these snobs’ opinions than my own desires?” Irina snapped, her anger flaring.
“Because that’s how it is in our circle!”
“In your circle?” Irina crossed her arms. “So I’m an outsider in your circle?”
After yet another family dinner at the Sokolovs, Irina burst into tears right in the car.
“Your mother started again! As if I’m some… useless plaything!” her voice trembled with hurt.
“Mother is just worried about our social standing,” Maxim said, wearily rubbing his nose. “Try to understand her.”
“Is anyone trying to understand me?” Irina sobbed.
Two months later, Irina discovered she was pregnant. Happiness overwhelmed her until Maxim uttered a phrase that shattered all her enthusiasm:
“Now you’re definitely going to quit that job.”
“I’ll take maternity leave, of course,” Irina nodded. “But then I’ll come back.”
Maxim’s face flushed.
“After the baby is born? Are you out of your mind? Our child needs a mother by his side!”
“I will be there! But that doesn’t mean I should forget about myself!”
“What exactly did you do at that foundation?” Maxim exploded. “Cleaning up someone else’s misery? Wasn’t your share enough?”
A heavy silence fell in the room. Irina paled.
“What did you say?”
“Sorry,” Maxim quickly lowered his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
But once spoken, the word could not be taken back.
After the birth of Alice, Elena Viktorovna began visiting more frequently. Each visit ended with new lectures.
“The child needs a professional nanny,” her mother-in-law insisted, watching as Irina rocked her daughter to sleep. “I’ve already arranged with an agency.”
“Thank you, but I’m managing just fine,” Irina said, pressing her daughter against her chest.
“Way too stubborn!” her mother-in-law snapped at her son.
At a family dinner held in honor of Alice’s christening, a new conflict erupted.
“We enrolled Alice in a childcare center,” Elena Viktorovna announced while pouring wine. “The best in town. With a pool and classes in three languages.”
“She’s nine months old!” Irina almost choked. “Which languages?”
“Early development,” her mother-in-law cut in. “And social adaptation.”
“Alice is too young for daycare,” Irina said firmly. “I think…”
“You think?” Elena Viktorovna laughed. “And who are you to decide?”
“Mother!” Maxim interjected. “Enough.”
“No, son,” his mother straightened up. “Enough! We welcomed this… girl into our family. We gave her everything. And she doesn’t even understand how a child from a respectable family should be raised!”
Irina stood up abruptly, but Maxim grabbed her hand.
“Sit down!” he barked through gritted teeth.
“I will not allow you to treat me this way!” Irina broke free from his grasp.
“You’re from a poor family!” Maxim roared, slamming his palm on the table. “And my parents—they’re businessmen! So you must obey me!”
A heavy silence filled the room. Only the crystal chandelier tinkled faintly, echoing the abrupt gesture.
Irina looked at her husband with a long, piercing gaze. In his eyes, there was not a trace of remorse—only cold anger and arrogance. Her mother-in-law smiled smugly, while her father-in-law, like a detached observer, carefully examined the contents of his glass.
“Now everything is in its rightful place,” Irina said quietly as she rose from the table. “Thank you for your honesty.”
She carefully picked up sleeping Alice and made her way to the exit. No one even tried to stop her.
Throughout the drive home, the couple remained silent. Maxim gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white, his mind consumed by rage. Irina gazed out the window as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.
At home, a true storm erupted.
“Are you happy now?” Maxim hissed as he slammed the front door. “Did you put on a circus for my parents!”
“I did?” Irina replied, carefully tucking her daughter into bed and turning to face her husband. “You’re the one who yelled about a ‘poor family’!”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Maxim stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle. “Your parents spent their lives in a rundown apartment! I gave you all this,” he gestured around the luxurious apartment, “and you can’t even appreciate it!”
“And what exactly did you give me, Maxim?” Irina crossed her arms. “The apartment your parents bought? Or the right to be a docile plaything?”
“I pulled you out of the gutter!” he screamed, splashing his drink. “I gave you status, a position in society! And you? You always argue, always stubborn, and disgrace me with your job!”
For the first time, Irina truly saw her husband—a haughty, spoiled boy, accustomed to getting everything with a single snap of his fingers.
“You know what your problem is?” she said bitterly with a wry smile. “You never loved me. You fell in love with the idea of your own generosity. ‘Poor girl from the provinces’ was a perfect trophy for your ego.”
The next two weeks turned into a veritable torture. Maxim moved into the guest room, leaving early in the morning and returning past midnight. Irina spent all her days with her daughter, trying to figure out what to do next.
One day, she couldn’t take it anymore and called her mother.
“Sweetheart, drop everything and come home,” her mother sobbed into the phone.
“Mom, I can’t just leave,” Irina sighed. “I have a child, a job…”
“A job!” her mother’s voice suddenly became more confident. “Then hold on to it! You have an education and experience. In the meantime, your father and I will save some money. The main thing is—don’t lose yourself!”
The next day, the director of the foundation called Irina in.
“We’re launching a new project to support single mothers,” Marina Sergeyevna said with a smile. “I want to offer you a managerial position. The salary will be twice as high.”
That evening, when Maxim returned from work, he was met with an unfamiliar silence. Neither Irina nor her daughter was in the nursery. On the table lay an envelope.
“Maxim, I’m leaving. I can’t live in a golden cage where my worth is measured by your bank account. I only took my things and Alice. I’ll file for divorce tomorrow. Don’t try to get us back—it’s futile.”
Irina rented a small apartment near her work. When Maxim learned her address, a real war began.
“I will destroy you!” he shouted, pounding on the door. “I’ll take Alice away! With my connections and money, they won’t even let you have any visitation rights!”
The court battle was long, but fair. Irina was granted full custody of her daughter. Maxim was allowed to see Alice only on weekends under supervision. Irina was relieved that she had recorded all of Maxim’s and his family’s conversations, outbursts, and threats.
Three years later, Irina stood on stage, receiving an award for the best social project of the year. Her foundation, which helped women suffering in abusive marriages, had saved hundreds of lives.
In the last row sat Maxim. He attended every public event of his ex-wife. He watched her confident smile, and her daughter, growing up as beautiful and strong as her mother.
Only now, having lost everything, he began to understand: genuine love and respect cannot be bought. Not even with all the money from his parents.
