“Katya, where is my blue tie?” Dmitry shouted from the bedroom.
Ekaterina was standing in the kitchen, stirring oatmeal. Seven years of marriage, and every morning felt like Groundhog Day. He rushed off to the office chasing success and money, while she stayed between the stove and the washing machine.
“In the closet on the second shelf!” she called back.
“I don’t see it! Katya, where is it?”
She sighed and went into the bedroom. Her hand in the pocket of his yesterday’s jacket felt something cold. A key. A normal apartment key, but definitely not from their house.
“Dim, where is this from?” she showed him the find.
Her husband turned around and was momentarily confused. But quickly recovered and shouted:
“Go back to the kitchen! Don’t be rummaging through my things! It’s from the new archive at the office.”
But he did not expect what would happen next.
At breakfast, Dmitry didn’t take his eyes off his phone. He was typing something, smiling, even giggling a couple of times.
“Who’s texting?” Katya asked innocently.
“Colleagues. Discussing a project,” he replied without looking up.
But Katya noticed that on the screen there weren’t work messages, but some hearts and emojis.
“I’ll be late today. Presentation, then dinner with partners. Don’t wait for me.” — Dinner with partners on a Saturday?
“Business never sleeps, dear.”
He kissed her on the cheek and rushed off, leaving behind the scent of a new expensive perfume.
Katya cleared the dishes and sat down with a cup of cold coffee. Seven years ago, she had graduated with honors in economics, worked at a bank, built a career. Then she got married.
“Why do you need that job?” Dmitry had persuaded her back then. “I’ll earn well; take care of the home. Soon we’ll have kids, and you won’t have time for a career.” They still had no children. Meanwhile, Katya knew all the TV series and sales in all the stores in the neighborhood by heart.
But today something clicked inside. A key to someone else’s apartment, emojis on the phone, new perfume, “business” dinners on weekends…
She needed to find out the truth. And she knew how.
Ekaterina opened her laptop and searched: “Horizont Business Center vacancies.” That’s exactly where Dmitry worked — on the seventh floor, in the office of the IT company “Progress.”
She scrolled through job listings. There it was! The cleaning service “Clean Office” was hiring cleaners for the Horizont business center. Evening shift.
Her heart beat faster. Perfect! Cleaners work when the main staff go home. But someone always stays — managers who “stay late for meetings”…
Katya dialed the number.
“Hello, regarding the cleaning job at Horizont…”
The next day she sat in the cleaning company’s office opposite Nina Vasilyevna, the team leader.
“Do you have experience as a cleaner?”
“I’ve been cleaning at home for seven years,” Katya answered honestly.
“Why Horizont? We have jobs closer to your area.”
Katya was ready for that question:
“It’s convenient schedule-wise. I’m… getting divorced. My husband will be home with the child at that time.”
Nina Vasilyevna nodded sympathetically:
“I understand, dear. Divorce is hard. We’ll take you. Just register your documents under the name… what is it? — Valentina. Valentina Petrova.”
In three days, Ekaterina Kovaleva became Valentina Petrova, cleaner at the Horizont business center. She got a uniform, supplies, and detailed instructions:
“The main rule — we are invisible. Employees work late and must not be distracted by us. Quiet, careful, unnoticed. Seventh floor. IT company Progress. Office with the plaque ‘D.A. Kovalev, Development Manager.’”
“Nina Vasilyevna, can I have the seventh floor?” Katya asked. “Fewer offices there, I’m still learning…”
“Of course, dear. Lyuda has a hard time — too many offices there.”
And so Katya stood at the door of her husband’s own office holding a mop. Eight o’clock in the evening, the workday long over, but voices could be heard behind the door.
The game had begun.
Two weeks working as a cleaner in her husband’s office opened Katya’s eyes to many things. Dmitry stayed late every evening not for his career, but for Alina Kramer — a marketer from the seventh floor.
The key from his pocket really was to an apartment. Not the office archive, but Alina’s one-room flat in a new building.
“Dim, I’m tired of all these secrets,” Alina complained while Katya washed the floor in the neighboring office. “When can we be together openly?”
“Soon, dear. The lawyer says we need to prepare the documents properly. Otherwise, at the divorce, I’ll have to give up half the apartment.” Katya clenched her teeth. So he not only had an affair but also planned to rob her in the divorce.
And the day before yesterday, she stumbled upon something worse. Cleaning Dmitry’s office, she accidentally knocked over a stack of papers. The reports scattered on the floor.
While picking them up, Katya noticed strange notes in the margins. Thanks to her economic education, she quickly understood — these were the company’s internal reports. Plans, budgets, development strategies.
On the desk lay a second phone — a work phone. The screen lit up with a notification from “Irina S.”
Katya looked around — no one was in the office. She quickly opened the chat:
“Dima, I need data on the ‘Northern’ project. I’ll transfer the usual amount.”
“Ira, the information price went up. Now 50 thousand for the package.”
“Agreed. Just faster, we have a presentation Tuesday.”
Katya’s hands went cold. Irina Somova — deputy director of “Vector,” Progress’s main competitor. And Dmitry was selling her trade secrets.
Katya took photos of the chat and several documents with notes. At home, studying the materials, she realized the scale of the betrayal. Her husband leaked information to competitors worth at least half a million rubles.
“How’s work?” she asked at dinner.
“Fine. Working on a promising new project,” Dmitry answered indifferently, not looking up from his phone. “Promising”… the one he had already sold to Vector.
The plan did not mature immediately. She could simply report her husband to management and file for divorce. But Katya wanted justice on all fronts.
Tomorrow was the corporate party celebrating Progress’s successes. Dmitry had been preparing for a week — new suit, a speech for the toast, plans to impress the bosses.
“Dim, what will you tell colleagues about me?” Alina asked yesterday.
“What’s there to say? You know — I’m getting divorced. Soon we’ll be officially together.”
“What if your wife shows up at the party?”
“She won’t. She’s shy about such events. Says she feels awkward among my colleagues.” Katya smiled listening to this conversation. Her husband had no idea his “shy” wife was watching office life from the inside every day.
On the day of the party, Katya came to work as usual. But instead of her uniform, her bag held a black cocktail dress. And in the folder — all the proof of her husband’s double betrayal.
At seven in the evening, when the celebration began in the conference hall, she changed in the staff restroom. Fixed her makeup, let her hair down.
Through the glass doors, you could see Dmitry in a new suit flirting with Alina at the buffet table. General Director Pavel Romanovich was giving a congratulatory speech.
The time for a surprise had come.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Katya said entering the hall. “May I have a moment?”
The conversations stopped. Dmitry turned and froze.
“I am Ekaterina Kovaleva, wife of your employee,” she calmly continued. “For the past two weeks, I worked here as a cleaner under the name Valentina Petrova.”
“What are you doing here?!” Dmitry hissed, rushing at her.
“I was gathering evidence, dear. Of your affairs and something worse.” The hall froze in tense anticipation.
“Pavel Romanovich,” Katya addressed the director, “your manager is selling commercial information to the company Vector.” She handed him a folder with printouts.
“That’s slander!” Dmitry shouted. “She’s revenge for my affair!”
“Transfer amounts, photos of documents with your notes,” Katya listed calmly. “Everything documented.” Pavel Romanovich silently studied the papers. His face hardened with every page.
“And this,” Katya added pulling out another folder, “photos of using the office for non-work purposes.” Seeing the pictures where she kissed Dmitry, Alina squealed and ran out of the hall.
“Dmitry Kovalev, you are fired,” the director said coldly. “And you will answer according to the law. Security!” When Dmitry was escorted out, silence hung in the room. Pavel Romanovich approached Katya:
“Thank you for your help. We couldn’t find the source of the leak for six months.”
“I was just looking for the truth about my husband. Found more than I expected.”
“Do you have an economics degree?”
“Yes, but haven’t worked in the field for seven years.” The director nodded thoughtfully:
“We need a new security analyst. Someone who can find what others hide. Interested?”
Katya smiled:
“Very.”
A month after the corporate scandal, Katya’s life changed drastically. She worked as a security analyst at Progress, earning three times more than Dmitry in his previous position.
Her ex-husband disappeared from her life. After his dismissal and exposure, his resume got blacklisted by recruitment agencies.
At the court session, Katya felt confident. Dmitry sat in the corner, avoiding her gaze. He looked pitiful — wrinkled shirt, unshaven face. Alina dumped him a week after the scandal.
“The court’s decision,” announced the judge, “is to dissolve the marriage. According to the parties’ settlement, the apartment is split in half.” Two months later Katya celebrated her housewarming in her two-room flat. She sold half of the three-room apartment and bought a cozy place in a good area.
Her work brought her pleasure. Katya developed a new information security system, preventing several industrial espionage attempts.
Six months later, a new IT director appeared at the company — Andrey Volkov. He moved from Moscow, divorced, raising a school-age son. They often worked together on projects. Andrey treated her as a professional.
“Katya, can you recommend a good school for my son?” he asked once.
“Sure. Shall we take a walk after work? I’ll show you some options.” Thus began their friendship. Two adults who valued honesty and understood the price of betrayal.
A year later Katya accidentally met Dmitry at the metro. He worked at a car wash, lived in a rented room.
“Katya… How are you?” he started.
“Good. And you?”
“Tough. Can’t find a better job… Maybe we can try again? I’ve really changed…” Katya looked at him closely. Yes, he had changed — become miserable, broken.
“No. I have a different life now. And the main rule in it is to respect myself.” In the evening, she told Andrey about this meeting over a cup of tea.
“Don’t you feel sorry for him?”
“I feel sorry for the woman who spent seven years thinking she was a worthless housewife. And he got what he deserved.” Andrey took her hand:
“Good thing that woman found the strength to change everything.” Outside, snow was falling, and the apartment was warm and cozy. Katya was finally home — where she was valued and respected.
