— Anna Mikhailovna, gather your personal belongings. You no longer work at the company.
Igor didn’t even look away from the monitor screen as he said this calmly, as if talking about someone else. Twelve years of working together, twelve years side by side — and now he spoke as if they were strangers.
— What do you mean? — Anna froze in the doorway of the office, holding a folder with reports.
— You’re fired. Effective today. The compensation will be transferred to your card according to the law.
Igor’s voice was cold and formal. Anna slowly put the folder down on the desk and sat opposite him.
— Igor, explain… We built this business together…
— I just decided to refresh the team. New ideas are needed, a fresh perspective. Vika proposed some interesting development solutions.
When she heard the name of the new employee, Anna understood everything. Vika had worked there only six months but had already become a key figure next to Igor. Young, energetic, with shining eyes, she talked about social media promotion and new sales technologies.
— She’s the one who pushed you to get rid of me?
— No one pushed me anywhere! — Igor snapped sharply, finally looking at her. — I make decisions myself. In my company.
— Our company, — Anna corrected quietly.
— Now it’s mine. All the documents are registered to me. This is my business. And you will get what the labor code entitles you to.
Anna looked at the man she had lived with for eighteen years and did not recognize him. This strange, cold man once confessed his love to her, thanked her for believing in his dream — a small furniture workshop in a garage.
— Remember how we started? In that garage on Promyshlennaya? You made the first stools, and I found clients, kept the paperwork…
— That’s long gone. Now different approaches are needed.
Vika peeked into the office. Well-groomed, with a neat hairstyle, flawless makeup, and a radiant smile.
— Igor Semyonovich, sorry to disturb you. There’s a call from a client about the kitchen set. A decision needs to be made urgently.
— I’ll be there in a minute, — Igor said, standing up. — Anna Mikhailovna, the conversation is over.
Anna stood slowly. Inside, there was emptiness, only deep resentment and a strange feeling of liberation.
— Alright. Should I hand over the work to Vika?
— No need. We’ll handle it ourselves.
As she left the office, Anna met Semyon Petrovich — the old craftsman who had worked with them from the very beginning, back in the garage days.
— Anna Mikhailovna, what happened? Your face…
— I don’t work here anymore.
The man was so surprised he even adjusted his glasses.
— How is it you don’t work here? And who now…?
— Igor decided to update the team. Vika will handle everything.
— That girl can’t even tell MDF from chipboard! Yesterday she was asking what’s what!
— Apparently, she learns quickly, — Anna said bitterly. — Take care of yourself, Semyon Petrovich. And the guys too.
While packing her things, Anna heard Vika’s voice from the next room:
— Of course, we will give a discount! Fifteen percent — Igor Semyonovich approved it.
“You can go bankrupt on such a discount,” thought Anna. But now it was none of her business.
That same evening, she sat in her sister Marina’s kitchen telling her what had happened. Marina, an experienced realtor, listened attentively, occasionally gasping indignantly.
— So that’s how it is… Eighteen years of marriage, twelve years of shared business, and he threw you out like a stranger!
— Marin, let’s keep emotions out. What’s done is done.
— And now what? Go get a job?
Anna thought. At forty-five, finding a decent position was hard. And working for someone else after running her own business was the last thing she wanted.
— What if… — she began. — What if I start my own business?
— Anya! — Marina jumped up. — Great idea! You have experience, connections, you know all the suppliers!
— But no money. Only the compensation from Igor.
— How about a loan? I can mortgage my apartment. I have a three-room place on Mira street that’s been empty for a while and I wanted to rent it out.
Anna looked gratefully at her sister. Marina had always been ready to take risks for family.
— It’s serious, Marin. What if it doesn’t work out?
— And what if it does? Anya, you can do it! Remember how you made my kitchen? The neighbors still ask where I ordered it.
The next day Anna went to look for a premises. Marina gave her a list of options in industrial zones with affordable rent.
The third place was just right. A small workshop — it had been a sewing workshop before. High ceilings, convenient access, separate entrance for clients.
— It’s been vacant for two months, — the owner, Viktor Ivanovich, said. — The previous tenants left, and I can’t find new ones. What will you be doing?
— Custom case furniture production.
— Great! I recently ordered a kitchen myself — a nightmare. Deadlines missed, dimensions mixed up.
They agreed on a price, Anna paid a deposit, and got the keys.
Now she needed equipment. Old connections came in handy. Oleg Mikhailovich, who had supplied machines back at “KrestDrev,” was happy to answer her call.
— Anna Mikhailovna! What a surprise! Heard your business is doing well!
— Oleg Mikhailovich, I have my own project now. Need machines. Can you help?
— Of course! I have a nearly new set from a closed workshop. Special price for you.
A week later, the workshop was transformed: machines, workbenches, shelves appeared. All that was left was to assemble a team.
Suddenly, Semyon Petrovich called.
— Anna Mikhailovna, can we meet?
They arranged to meet at a café near the new workshop. Semyon Petrovich came looking upset.
— It’s chaos there. Vika takes orders but then doesn’t know what to do with them. Yesterday she promised a client a sliding-door wardrobe in three days! I told her you need to order materials, and she said, “Why don’t you have a warehouse?”
Anna sighed. Vika clearly had no understanding of production.
— And Igor?
— He’s all about external meetings. Lunches with her, trainings. The production is running itself.
— Want to join me?
— Anna Mikhailovna, that’s what I’ve been dreaming about!
A month later, Volodya and Andrey — young carpenters from Igor’s old team — joined them. They came in the evening while Anna was reviewing accounts.
— Anna Mikhailovna, can we have a minute?
— Come in, have a seat. Tea?
— No thanks. We want to work for you.
Anna looked closely.
— What happened?
— Things are bad. Vika introduced new rules. We have to report every hour. Yesterday she said she would pay less because we work slowly.
— For what?
— She says European standards must be followed. We explain that quality can’t be rushed, but she doesn’t listen.
— And Igor?
The guys exchanged looks.
— He supports her. Says young people understand modern methods better.
Anna thought. The guys were reliable and hardworking.
— Okay. Start Monday. Salary will be no less than before.
The guys were happy and shook her hand.
After they left, Anna called Marina:
— Marin, how’s the advertising?
— The ad goes in the paper tomorrow; it’s already online. I told my clients about you. One lady is interested in children’s furniture.
— Great. Seems like it’s working.
Meanwhile, at “KrestDrev” Igor was reviewing the orders report. The numbers were discouraging.
— Vika, why so few orders this month?
— Igor Semyonovich, it’s low season now. Plus competition has increased. New players appeared.
— Which ones?
— For example, a workshop called “AnMeb.” They actively advertise and offer very low prices.
Igor frowned — the name sounded familiar.
— Who’s behind that project?
Vika shrugged.
— Not sure. But they already lured two of our clients. Even Elena Sergeevna from the furniture salon asked them for a quote.
Igor straightened up sharply. Elena Sergeevna had been a key client for five years. Losing her meant serious financial losses.
— Contact her immediately. Offer a discount.
— What kind?
— Whatever! Twenty, thirty percent — whatever it takes. We have to keep the client.
Vika nodded and started dialing. Igor stared out the window thoughtfully. Something about the name “AnMeb” stirred memories…
Understanding came in the evening while he was driving home. AnMeb — that’s Anna Mikhailovna! His ex-wife opened her own workshop and was now his competitor on equal footing.
Igor parked near his building and sat for a long time pondering the news. She hadn’t broken after being fired, hadn’t run to find a job, but decided to challenge him directly.
“Let’s see what you’re capable of,” he thought and went inside.
The next day Igor decided to visit his ex-wife’s workshop in person. He got the address through an advertising acquaintance.
The small building in the industrial zone looked neat but without any luxury. The sign proudly read: “AnMeb – Furniture with Soul.” Igor parked opposite and began watching.
An hour later he saw Semyon Petrovich come out, followed by Volodya and Andrey. Anger boiled inside him. These people hadn’t just quit — they joined his main competitor!
He took out his phone and called Anna.
— Hello?
— It’s Igor. We need to talk.
— About what? I thought we already discussed everything.
— I know about your workshop. And that you took my employees.
— They came themselves. I didn’t call them anywhere.
— Then why to you?
— Maybe because I value their experience and don’t treat them like expendables?
Igor was silent. Lately, he had indeed entrusted the workers’ management to Vika, barely caring about their opinions.
— Let’s meet. Talk calmly.
— I have a client waiting. Sorry.
The line went dead. The dial tone hit harder than words.
Elena Sergeevna, owner of one of the large furniture salons, immediately wanted to meet Anna after hearing about her new venture.
— Anna Mikhailovna, what a pleasure to see you! — the woman warmly shook her hand. — Honestly, the quality of Igor’s work noticeably dropped after you left.
— Interesting, — Anna showed the guest to a small office near the production.
— The new management changes everything. Deadlines are missed, and when I ask why, some girl explains everything will be done differently now.
— What do you want to order now?
— A project for a new residential complex. Fifty apartments — kitchens, wardrobes, children’s sets. A sizable volume with matching payment.
Anna quickly assessed the scale. It was a months-long order for the whole team.
— Elena Sergeevna, this is serious work. We need to calculate deadlines and costs.
— I have an offer from Igor Semyonovich. He offers a twenty percent discount and promises to finish in two months.
Anna thought. Such a discount would make the order almost trouble-free profit-wise, but refusing it would be foolish.
— I can’t offer such a discount, — she said honestly. — But I guarantee quality, individual approach, and deadlines.
— Reliability is most important for me. I don’t want to lose face with the developer because of defects or delays.
— Then give me three days to prepare a proposal.
After the client left, Anna called a team meeting: Semyon Petrovich, Volodya, and Andrey gathered in the office.
— Guys, we may have a big order — fifty apartments, all the interior furniture. But competition is fierce.
— We can handle it, — Semyon Petrovich said confidently. — The main thing is to organize the process correctly.
— The problem is Igor is offering a big discount. The client might choose him.
— Or maybe not, — Volodya noted. — They say they have quality issues. My relative got a cabinet with warps, and the fittings were random.
Anna shook her head. It seemed the rush for speed was backfiring.
Meanwhile, at “KrestDrev,” Vika informed Igor:
— She’s leaning toward our offer. The discount clearly played a role.
— Good. But can we handle that volume in two months?
Vika hesitated.
— We’ll have to push hard. Maybe hire extra workers.
— Not an option. Payroll is already growing. We have to work with what we have.
— Then overtime.
Igor agreed. Though he knew the deadlines were unrealistic, he wasn’t going to lose the client.
Three days later, Elena Sergeevna received two proposals. Igor promised two months with a 20% discount. Anna offered three and a half months, but with a detailed plan, material samples, and full guarantees.
— Your proposal seems more realistic, — the client admitted. — But the price…
— I understand, — Anna replied. — Just consider the risks. If deadlines are missed, you lose reputation. That’s costlier than any discount.
— Okay. We’ll sign with you. But if you delay more than a week, there’s a 10% penalty.
— Agreed.
They shook hands, and Elena Sergeevna left. Anna immediately called Marina.
— Marin, we have a big order! Six months of work secured.
— Anya, I’m happy for you! How will Igor react when he finds out?
— He’ll find out soon. Elena Sergeevna will tell him herself.
Indeed, an hour later a call came to “KrestDrev”’s office.
— Igor Semyonovich, this is Elena Sergeevna. We decided not to choose your offer.
Igor felt his heart stop.
— But why? We agreed on a good discount…
— I need assurance. Your team doesn’t inspire confidence yet. Nothing personal — just business.
After the call, Igor sat in his chair staring at the ceiling. Vika tried comforting him, but he didn’t hear.
The biggest order went to his ex-wife. And that seemed only the beginning.
News about Elena Sergeevna’s choice quickly spread. Everyone in the furniture business knew each other, and information traveled fast.
Anna realized things were going well after a week — new client calls started coming in.
— Hello, is this the “AnMeb” furniture workshop?
— Yes, speaking.
— Elena Sergeevna recommended you. Said you do quality work. I need a kitchen for a country house.
Calls like this were already five in a week. Word of mouth was stronger than any advertisement.
Semyon Petrovich came every day with news from the old office.
— Anna Mikhailovna, it’s chaos there. Vika makes them work twelve-hour shifts. Says they have to make up for lost time.
— How do the guys react?
— Three already quit. Only the toughest remain. But they complain too.
Anna shook her head. Igor used to sense the team. Now it led to mass resignations.
— Maybe invite some of the remaining guys here? Orders are growing, hands are needed.
— There’s one guy, Maxim. Good craftsman, responsible. But he’s holding on — has kids to feed.
— Got it. If he decides to switch — let him reach out.
Meanwhile, tension reigned at “KrestDrev.” Igor got irritated more often. Vika tried to fix problems but only made things worse.
— Igor Semyonovich, we need to do something about staff, — she said, shaking documents. — Three quit, orders pile up, deadlines fly by.
— What do you suggest?
— Hire students. They’re cheaper and have more energy.
Igor sighed. Students in furniture making meant at least a month of training and high risk of defects.
— Vika, furniture is made not with youth but experience. We need professionals.
— Professionals are expensive! And profits are already falling.
— Profits fall because we lose clients over quality and delays!
Vika pouted, and Igor recalled how Anna used to handle these issues. She knew every supplier, every craftsman, controlled every stage of production.
That evening, he made the long-avoided decision — he went to “AnMeb.”
Anna stayed late after work, checking drawings for a new order. Hearing a knock, she looked up and saw a familiar figure outside.
— Igor? What are you doing here?
— Need to talk. Can I come in?
She hesitated briefly, then opened the door.
— Come in.
Igor looked around. The workshop was small but organized neatly and conveniently. Equipment modern, workspaces tidy.
— You settled in nicely, — he noted.
— Thank you. So what did you want?
— Let’s talk like business partners. You’re successful; I’m struggling. Maybe we can join forces?
Anna put down the drawings and looked at him closely.
— Join forces? How?
— I propose a joint project. You get a share in “KrestDrev,” I in “AnMeb.” We cooperate like before.
— Igor, do you remember how we “cooperated” last time? You just threw me out like unwanted junk.
— I was wrong. I admit it.
— Wrong? — her voice grew hard. — You humiliated me in front of everyone. Kicked me out like a useless toy for a young assistant.
Igor winced at the mention of Vika.
— It’s business. Nothing personal.
— For you, it’s business. For me, it’s lost trust. A person I gave years of my life to.
They stood against each other in the dim workshop, separated by a chasm of resentment and disappointment.
— What do you want to hear? That I’m guilty? Yes. That I regret it? I do. But let’s think about the future.
— We have different futures. You chose your path — live with it.
— Anna, let’s be realistic — competition will destroy us both. Better to work together.
— No, Igor. I don’t trust you anymore. Neither as a person nor as a partner.
He understood convincing was useless. Anna would not forgive betrayal.
— Fine. Then see you on the market.
— See you.
After he left, she sat in silence for a long time. His offer didn’t surprise her — he was always calculating. But forgiving? She couldn’t. Didn’t want to.
The next months showed who was right. “AnMeb” worked like clockwork. The big order was fulfilled on time; new clients came regularly.
Anna hired two more craftsmen — Maxim, who left Igor, and an experienced finisher, Svetlana. The team quickly gelled.
— Anna Mikhailovna, maybe it’s time to think about expansion? Space is tight; orders are many.
— Already thinking. Marina found a suitable place nearby. We can combine.
— And equipment?
— Oleg Mikhailovich offers a new automated line. Productivity will double.
Plans were ambitious but realistic. Profits allowed investing in growth.
At “KrestDrev,” things got worse. Vika tried to impose order but lacked experience. Igor withdrew into himself.
— Maybe change strategy? Move to budget segment?
— Meaning make furniture from sawdust and glue?
— Not that radical. Just reduce costs.
— We’ve cut everything possible. Next is reputation loss.
But reputation was already damaged. Clients complained; deadlines slipped. Two big contractors canceled contracts.
The last straw was the kindergarten case. Cabinets were painted with poor-quality paint. The consumer protection agency fined them; the client demanded rework at the company’s expense.
— Igor Semyonovich, I didn’t know the paint was uncertified! The supplier said everything was fine…
— Where did you find that supplier?
— Found online. The price was good…
Igor closed his eyes. Anna never worked with unchecked partners. She had a vetted list from years of experience.
— How much will it cost?
— About a million rubles.
No money.
A year later, Anna stood in the new expanded workshop accepting congratulations. “AnMeb” celebrated its first anniversary, signing a contract to furnish a shopping center.
— To our success! — raised a glass Semyon Petrovich. — And for not being afraid to start over.
— To the team, — Anna answered. — Without you, nothing would have happened.
The team now had twelve people. Plans for a branch in a neighboring city.
Volodya came with a smile:
— Anna Mikhailovna, do you know what happened to “KrestDrev”?
— No, and I don’t want to know.
— They say Igor is selling off the remains almost for nothing.
Anna didn’t answer. No joy, no pity. He chose his path himself.
That evening, after the guests left, she sat in the office planning meetings for the next week. The phone rang.
— Anna Mikhailovna, it’s Igor.
She recognized the voice — tired and lost.
— What do you want?
— I wanted to apologize. And thank you.
— For what?
— For the lesson. I realized I lost the most important person in my life. And in business too.
Anna was silent.
— Think about it — maybe buy my leftovers? Machines, client base… I’ll give you a symbolic price.
— No, Igor. I don’t need others’ mistakes. I have my own path.
— I understand. Then good luck. Truly.
— You too.
She hung up and returned to work. New negotiations started tomorrow. Life went on, and she went with it.
Outside, the autumn day was dying. Anna looked at a photo on the desk — the whole “AnMeb” team at a corporate party. Smiles, laughter, trust. This was her new family.
She turned off the light and headed out. Tomorrow would be a new day full of opportunities. And she would meet it with her head held high — a woman who turned pain into strength and betrayal into success.
“AnMeb” fell asleep for the night but would awaken tomorrow with daily calls, client meetings, and machine movements. And Anna would be there — the mistress of her fate and creator of furniture made with soul.
The story ended fairly. Everyone got what they deserved — according to their choices and actions.
