It seemed that Kirill had calculated everything: fake bankruptcy, divorce, secret accounts. But he forgot that Anya was not just a «modest housewife.» Behind the borscht and baby diapers hid a woman capable of turning his lies into financial ruin. When the last illusions crumbled, only one question remained: what was worse—losing the business or realizing that his wife had long been playing her own game? A story about how quiet revenge becomes louder than the crashing of an empire.
— You’ll never be the CEO of a big corporation, I swear, — Kirill said mockingly, looking at his wife with the expression of an experienced psychologist, disappointed in the subject. — You don’t know anything about business.
— How would I? — Anya shrugged, not even turning from the stove where she was stirring borscht, her husband’s favorite dish. — I’m not some superhuman from the planet of Top Businessmen. Just a modest housewife with a home, a child, and your socks scattered all over the apartment.
This conversation, which had become routine over the past years, was heard so often in their kitchen that even one-year-old Masha, sitting in her high chair, would automatically wrinkle her nose whenever dad started his usual lecture on how hard it was to run a company, especially when the wife didn’t support him at all.
Kirill, a hereditary entrepreneur (according to him), but in reality just a lucky guy who won a tender for supplying construction materials to a government agency at a time when all his competitors went bankrupt, loved to emphasize his exceptionalism. Sometimes Anya felt like he wore an invisible crown that read «I am a business genius» and expected everyone to bow accordingly.
— Look, — Kirill continued, tossing his legs onto a neighboring chair without asking if she needed help. — If the company starts going bankrupt, we need to act quickly and decisively. Cut out everything unnecessary, minimize risks, preserve assets… You’d panic.
Anya silently stirred the soup, thinking that her culinary skills had never been criticized by her husband. But his financial acumen—constantly, though it was her grandmother’s apartment, inherited from her, that had become their family nest. And it was her salary as a piano teacher that had been their only stable income when Kirill «was launching his business.»
— It’s good you’ll never have such problems, — she handed him a plate of steaming borscht. — After all, you’re a genius businessman.
He didn’t even notice the irony—just snorted in satisfaction and started eating.
The conversation about bankruptcy turned out to be prophetic. A week later, Kirill came home pale as a sheet, with red eyes and the smell of cheap whiskey on him. He threw his briefcase into the corner of the hallway and collapsed into a chair, not even bothering to take off his shoes.
— We’re ruined, — he announced with a dramatic voice, worthy of an Oscar nomination. — Completely and irreversibly.
Anya, who had been rocking Masha, froze.
— What happened?
— Everything happened! — he punched the armrest with his fist. — A big client backed out of the contract, the tax authorities imposed insane fines, the bank is demanding early repayment of the loan… We’re totally screwed, do you understand?
She understood. And, first and foremost, she realized that Kirill, despite all his talk of «cutting the excess,» had now fallen into panic.
— Calm down, — Anya laid Masha in her crib and approached her husband. — Let’s sort this out. What exactly are the company’s debts?
— Millions! — he waved his hands. — The suppliers have sued us, we can’t pay the employees, the tax office is threatening to seize our accounts… Anya, it’s the end of the line.
She looked at him carefully. After five years of marriage, she had learned to read his moods. When he was really worried, his left eye would twitch slightly. Now his eye was calm.
— And what do you suggest? — she asked cautiously.
— The only way out is to fully liquidate the debts, — Kirill suddenly calmed down and started speaking in a businesslike tone. — We’ll have to sell everything we own. The apartment first.
— This apartment? — Anya clarified. — My grandmother’s apartment, which has nothing to do with your business?
— Not yours, but ours, — he corrected her irritably. — We’re a family. And if we don’t sell it now voluntarily, the bailiffs will come and throw us out onto the street. Is that what you want?
Anya sat down on the armrest of a nearby chair.
— And what about the money from the sale? Will the creditors take it all?
Kirill bit his lip, his gaze darted to the side.
— Not exactly… — he hesitated. — There’s one option. If we divorce before the lawsuits begin, some of the property will remain yours since it’s unrelated to the business. It’s a standard legal practice.
— Divorce? — Anya raised an eyebrow. — You’re suggesting we get divorced to save the money?
— It’s a fake divorce, silly, — he smiled and took her hand. — Just a legal procedure. We sell the apartment, give part of the money to the creditors, and hide the rest in your account. Later, when everything settles down, we’ll get remarried. It’s elementary!
Anya looked at his hand, tightly gripping her fingers. Too tight, too confidently for someone whose business was supposedly falling apart.
— Okay, — she said finally. — We’ll talk to a lawyer tomorrow. I want to understand all the details.
— What details? — he frowned. — We don’t have time for lawyers. We need to act quickly.
— I won’t act quickly when it comes to the roof over our daughter’s head, — Anya snapped, pulling her hand away. — Either we do everything legally and with a specialist’s consultation, or nothing.
Kirill scowled, but didn’t argue. He knew that in some matters, his quiet, obedient wife could be as stubborn as a mule.
The lawyer, an older woman, listened carefully to Kirill’s story about the company’s bankruptcy.
— Strange, — she said, reviewing the documents Kirill had brought. — According to the papers, you’re in a fairly stable position. There are debts, but they’re not critical for a business of your size.
— These are outdated numbers, — Kirill interrupted. — It’s much worse now. You’d better tell us about the divorce procedure.
The lawyer turned her gaze to Anya.
— Are you sure you want to divorce? Especially with a small child?
— No, — she answered honestly. — But if it’s the only way to protect my daughter from the consequences of bankruptcy…
— There are other ways to protect, — the lawyer tapped her pen on the table. — For example, your apartment, as premarital property, is not subject to creditor claims. Unless, of course, you’ve co-signed any loans.
Anya shook her head:
— No, I didn’t sign anything like that.
— So why sell the apartment? — the lawyer looked questioningly at Kirill.
— Because by law, creditors can claim half of the couple’s joint property, — he quickly replied. — And divorce will at least protect part of it.
— True, but only for property acquired during the marriage. Premarital property is already protected. — The lawyer turned to Anya. — If the apartment is yours, obtained before the marriage, it is completely yours. It won’t be taken.
Kirill fidgeted in his chair.
— That’s theoretical. But practically, our courts do whatever they want. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
The lawyer shrugged:
— It’s up to you. But I don’t see any reason to rush to sell the apartment.
When they left the lawyer’s office, Kirill was as gloomy as a thundercloud.
— This fool doesn’t understand anything about real business, — he muttered. — Listen, let’s just do what I say. I’ve thought everything through.
Anya didn’t respond. Too many questions were swirling in her mind. If the apartment was protected by law, why sell it? If the company wasn’t in a critical condition, why the panic? And why was Kirill insisting on a quick divorce?
— I need to think, — she said finally. — And talk to my mom.
— What does your mom have to do with this? — Kirill exploded. — These are our family matters!
— She’s a financial expert with thirty years of experience, — Anya reminded him. — And she loves you like a son. Maybe she’ll have some advice.
It was a lie. Her mother, Elena Viktorovna, couldn’t stand Kirill, considering him an arrogant fool without any real abilities. But Anya knew that her husband was afraid of her mother and tried not to cross her path.
— Fine, — Kirill reluctantly agreed. — But don’t drag it out. Time is working against us.
Elena Viktorovna, after listening to her daughter, didn’t even try to hide her skepticism.
— Bankruptcy? — she snorted. — Have you seen any documents proving that? Notices from the tax office? Lawsuits? Or is it just his dramatic storytelling?
Anya thought. Indeed, she hadn’t seen any proof of the company’s collapse. Only Kirill’s words.
— And why sell your apartment if it’s not subject to seizure by law? — her mother continued. — Even if his business is really going under, your property will remain yours. You got it before the marriage.
— Kirill says that in practice, the courts might make a different decision…
— That’s nonsense! — Elena Viktorovna cut her off. — I’ve worked with bankruptcies for forty years. Premarital property is sacrosanct. No court will touch your apartment.
She paused, then added more softly:
— Anya, think for yourself: if a person truly cared about the family, would they insist on selling the only home where their small child lives?
Anya remembered how Kirill had been nervous in the lawyer’s office. How he had insisted on a quick divorce. How he had avoided giving direct answers.
— What do you suggest? — she asked quietly.
— Test him, — her mother replied simply. — Tell him you’ll agree to the divorce, but you’ll sell the apartment yourself. And the money will stay in your account until the situation is fully clarified.
— What if he doesn’t agree?
— Then you’ll get answers to all your questions, — Elena Viktorovna stroked her daughter’s hair. — And remember, at any time, you and Masha can come back to me. My apartment is big enough for all of us.
— I agree to the divorce, — Anya announced in the evening when Kirill returned home. — But I have conditions.
He beamed:
— Anything, darling! I knew you’d understand!
— I’ll sell the apartment myself, — she said firmly, looking him straight in the eye. — Through an agency that mom will recommend. And the money will stay in my account until the official divorce, after which we’ll decide when I’ll transfer it to you.
Kirill tensed noticeably, his confident smile fading.
— But we need to act quickly. If we wait for your slow agencies…
— Either like this, or not at all, — Anya cut him off. — This is my apartment, and I won’t rush its sale.
That evening, Kirill was unusually attentive — he put Masha to bed, washed the dishes, and even suggested watching a movie together. Anya agreed, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had already started to suspect that the bankruptcy story was not exactly what Kirill had made it out to be.
Her suspicions turned into certainty a week later. Masha wasn’t feeling well, and Anya decided to search for a thermometer in her husband’s desk. Instead of a thermometer, she found bank statements — several transfers of significant amounts labeled «For Mom.»
«Why is he secretly transferring money to his mother if the company is on the brink of bankruptcy?»
The next day, while Kirill was in the shower, Anya took the opportunity to check his phone. The conversation with his mother confirmed her fears: there was no bankruptcy. The company was operating as usual, and Kirill was systematically transferring money to his mother’s account — «for safekeeping,» as he wrote.
«That’s why he’s talking about a fake divorce and selling the apartment,» Anya thought. Kirill was clearly preparing a way out, securing himself with a «backup airfield.»
It took all her composure to keep playing the role of the obedient wife. Her anger was boiling inside — not just because of the betrayal, but because of how easily Kirill had decided to strip his own daughter of a roof over her head.
A month after the «bankruptcy filing,» her mother-in-law unexpectedly appeared at their apartment, with complaints.
— Kirill doesn’t help me anymore, — Nina Petrovna declared, not removing her coat in the hallway. — And I know who’s to blame.
Anya, rocking the sleepy Masha, raised an eyebrow in surprise:
— What are you talking about?
— Don’t pretend! — Nina Petrovna huffed. — If you had helped your husband in business instead of staying at home with the child, his company wouldn’t have collapsed!
Anya barely suppressed a laugh:
— Nina Petrovna, are you serious? Kirill insisted that I leave my job and focus only on the house and the child.
— That’s what everyone says! But a proper wife should understand that her husband needs help. Instead, you let his business fail! And now he can’t even help his mother!
Anya gently placed the sleeping Masha in her crib and straightened up:
— Let’s go to the kitchen, we don’t want to wake the little one.
Once they sat at the table, Anya asked directly:
— Nina Petrovna, are you aware that there is no bankruptcy? Kirill’s company is operating as usual.
Her mother-in-law blinked, clearly confused:
— What nonsense? Kirill said…
— Kirill says a lot of things, — Anya gently interrupted. — But the documents say otherwise. And your regular transfers from your son also say otherwise.
Nina Petrovna flushed and stared at her cup. It was obvious she had slipped up.
— I don’t understand what you mean, — she muttered. — Kirill helps me, like any good son. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have problems.
— Nina Petrovna, — Anya leaned forward, — Kirill plans to divorce me, sell my apartment, and disappear with the money. Are you involved in this?
— What a nightmare! How can you say such things about my son? — Her mother-in-law was clearly taken aback by the question.
But there was a flash of guilt in her eyes. She knew. Perhaps not all the details, but the general plan — for sure.
The decision came unexpectedly easily. Anya agreed to the expedited divorce procedure that Kirill had been eager for. He didn’t even ask for asset division, fearing that the process would drag on.
— I’ll sell the apartment right after the divorce, — she promised. — And the car, too.
The car — a pricey wedding gift from her father — was worth almost as much as a one-bedroom apartment. Kirill couldn’t hide his satisfied smile.
The divorce was finalized quickly, almost without scandal. Kirill seemed unusually compliant and even agreed to a substantial alimony payment, which, however, he had no intention of actually paying after his planned disappearance.
A week after receiving the divorce certificate, Anya invited her former mother-in-law over for tea. And Kirill as well.
— I want to discuss the sale of the apartment and the division of the money, — she explained. — You’re interested in this too, Nina Petrovna, aren’t you?
Her mother-in-law agreed to come, though she looked cautious. Anya knew that Kirill wouldn’t be able to resist — he was used to thinking of her as weak and obedient, incapable of taking serious steps without his guidance.
When all three were gathered at the table, Anya pulled out a folder of documents:
— I’ve prepared all the papers for the sale. But before that, I want to clarify something.
She laid out printouts of messages, bank statements, and photos.
— Kirill, I know there’s no bankruptcy. I know you were transferring money to your mother’s account. And I know about Sofia, with whom you plan to leave.
At the mention of Sofia, Nina Petrovna shuddered:
— Who’s Sofia?
— My assistant, Mom, — Kirill waved dismissively. — Anya’s just gone mad with jealousy.
— The assistant you’re renting an apartment with in Northern? — Anya put out more photos. — The one you’re picking out furniture for your new house in Sochi?
Nina Petrovna turned pale:
— Kirill, is this true?
— Nonsense! — He jumped up. — Anya, what kind of circus are you putting on?
— Not a circus, but the truth, — she replied calmly. — You wanted a divorce — you got it. You wanted my apartment — but you won’t get it. I’m not moving anywhere with Masha.
— What about our agreement? — Kirill hissed.
— What agreement, son? — Nina Petrovna intervened. — Did you promise to sell your wife’s apartment?
Kirill froze, realizing he had backed himself into a corner.
— It was a temporary measure, Mom. To protect the assets from creditors…
— What creditors? — His mother raised her voice. — You said the company was operating fine, you just wanted to protect the capital! And now it turns out you were planning to rob your own wife and abandon your daughter?
Anya silently watched as Kirill’s house of cards collapsed. Everything was going even better than she had hoped.
Over the next two weeks, Kirill’s life completely fell apart. His mother, who adored her granddaughter, kicked him out of her apartment, where he had temporarily stayed after the divorce.
— I don’t want to see someone who’s ready to deprive his own child of a roof over her head, — she declared, not letting him in. — And I’ll return every penny to you. I’m ashamed that my son turned out like this…
The word she ended the sentence with, Anya didn’t even dare to repeat, even mentally.
Then, at Kirill’s company, a real crisis began — one contract after another fell through, the best employees started quitting, and competitors unexpectedly dropped their prices below cost.
Anya didn’t play the noble card. After the divorce, she fought for the division of her husband’s business assets in court, proving his attempt to hide property before the divorce. The share she received was immediately sold to Kirill’s main competitors — the ones who were now pushing him out of the market.
Sofia, the embodiment of the «true woman who supports,» disappeared from Kirill’s life when his bank account ran dry. She left a note in the rented apartment: «Losers don’t even get lucky in love.»
Six months later, Nina Petrovna stood on the doorstep of her former daughter-in-law’s apartment with a bag of groceries and a toy for her granddaughter.
— Can I come in? — she asked uncertainly.
Anya silently stepped aside, letting her in. They hadn’t spoken for several months after Kirill had completely ruined himself.
— I know you have every right to hate me, — her mother-in-law began. — What Kirill did… what we both did… it’s unforgivable.
— He’s your son, — Anya shrugged. — You wanted to help him.
— I didn’t know the whole truth, — Nina Petrovna shook her head. — I didn’t know about the mistress, about his plans to take the apartment from you. Kirill said he just wanted to protect the money from the tax office.
Anya set the kettle down:
— You don’t have to apologize.
— I must, — her mother-in-law said firmly. — Because I raised my son wrong. I always indulged his selfishness, his sense that everyone owed him. And now this is the result — he lost everything he had.
They fell silent. The sound of Masha’s sleepy breathing came from the nursery.
— You know, — Nina Petrovna continued, — when I found out that my son was willing to deprive his own daughter of a home, I realized I couldn’t forgive him. Family betrayal is a line you cannot cross.
She awkwardly extended a small box to Anya:
— These are my earrings, my grandmother’s. I want them to go to Masha. So that at least something… some part of our family stays with her.
Anya carefully took the box. Inside were indeed antique silver earrings with garnets — she had seen them in photos of Kirill’s great-grandmother.
— Thank you, — she said quietly. — Masha will be happy to see you. She misses you.
— Really? — Tears flashed in Nina Petrovna’s eyes. — Can I… can I visit her sometimes?
— Of course, — Anya nodded. — After all, she’s your granddaughter.
Her former mother-in-law gratefully nodded, realizing she had received more than she deserved — a second chance to be part of her granddaughter’s life.
