Vladimir climbed out of the car that had stopped right at the doorstep of his childhood home — the very place where he had grown up, where his first words were spoken, where he first learned to balance on two feet. He slowly lifted his eyes and looked at the windows. Warm light filtered through the glass, as if the house itself was glad to see him return. The air was filled with the scent of spring freshness, mixed with the aroma of old wood and blooming apple trees in the yard. And as always, coming here, Vladimir felt an unusual calm spreading inside him, deep and alive, like spring water. All the worries that weighed on his shoulders in the big city — endless meetings, business negotiations, difficult decisions, huge sums of money, constant stress and tension — here, in this small provincial town, began to lose their meaning. Everything was different here: time flowed slower, thoughts became clearer, and the heart softer.
He opened the trunk and began unloading bags and boxes onto the grass. Every item had been chosen with love: expensive cheeses, fruits, handpicked coffee, spices, books, and even a couple of toys for the neighbor’s children — small things, but so important for the people who were waiting for him.
“Volodya?” came a suddenly familiar voice, a bit hoarse but painfully dear. Vladimir turned and saw his father walking briskly and confidently toward him — tall, broad-shouldered, with gray at his temples but with lively, young eyes. “At first, I thought I was mistaken! But no, it really is you! But you said you’d come only in the evening!”
The son gave his father a warm hug — long and strong, filled with so much left unsaid and accumulated over years of separation. Then he waved to his mother, who was already watching from the second-floor window, squinting and slightly smiling at the corners of her lips.
“Decided to leave earlier, Dad,” said Vladimir. “Really wanted to come home. Well, take the bags.”
Ivan Petrovich carefully examined the pile of things by the car. His eyebrows rose.
“And why did you bring so much? We already have plenty, except maybe for a bald devil. You could eat lobsters every day!”
“Do you want me to come to you empty-handed?” Volodya laughed. “Besides, what I bring isn’t available in your stores.”
They gathered everything and headed toward the house. The father cast a thoughtful glance at his son:
“So, just for the night again? Tomorrow back to your affairs?”
Vladimir smiled:
“No, Dad, you guessed wrong. This time I’m staying for a long time. I think three or four days.”
Ivan Petrovich even slowed his step, as if hearing something incredible.
“Seriously? Then maybe we’ll go fishing?”
“Of course! I have fishing rods in my car you’ve never seen before!”
The father squinted slyly:
“Let’s make a bet. I’ll catch more on my old rod than you with your new gadgets.”
Vladimir stopped, smiling:
“Deal! What are we betting on?”
Ivan Petrovich thought for a second:
“Here’s the deal: if you lose, you’ll spend New Year’s with us.”
“And if you lose, you’ll finally let me buy you a new car.”
The father froze for a moment. He perfectly understood it was about “his” car — the very same loyal and faithful one that had served him for twenty years. He knew every scratch on its body, every creak of the suspension. But then he waved it off. Volodya wouldn’t sell it by force…
“Alright, it’s a deal,” he said, entering the house where the mother was already waiting.
“Oh my God, the child hasn’t even come inside yet, and you’re already arguing! What kind of father is that!” she exclaimed, gently hugging her son. And at that moment, Vladimir felt like a little boy again, far from all business worries, who always felt safest in his mother’s arms.
Half an hour later, the whole family was sitting at the table. Volodya was always amazed by one talent of his mother’s. Although he was supposed to arrive only in the evening, she always managed to prepare so much food that he had to work out hard afterwards. And here, even in the morning, the table was overflowing with treats, as if they were expecting an entire army of guests.
Vladimir inhaled the aromas and couldn’t decide where to start. He knew perfectly well that everything on the table was incredibly tasty because even in the most expensive restaurants he hadn’t been served dishes like his mother’s. She could easily outshine any chef.
Noticing his hesitation, mother smiled and, without waiting for him to choose, took a large plate and put a little of each dish on it. Volodya, slightly smiling, thought:
“Really, why think about it if Mom will convince me to try everything anyway?”
After a hearty breakfast that turned into lunch, the mother addressed him:
“Son, maybe you should lie down? You’ve spent so much time behind the wheel.”
He nodded in agreement. To be honest, he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. His business had come under attack. Vladimir understood that someone from his own circle was betraying him, but internal investigations had not yielded any results yet. Not only was betrayal coming from inside, but someone close among his partners was trying to destroy him as well.
Although once everything was fine. He and his comrades had started the business together, later divided it into different directions, and each went their own way. All agreements allowed contracts to be signed externally, and business went well. However, lately something had happened to Vladimir’s affairs. Twice he barely managed to save the company from bankruptcy.
Once, friends saved him. Stepan and Sergey, who were not only partners but best friends, warned him:
“Volodya, be on your guard. Someone among ours wants to set you up, and he is nearby. He knows everything about you.”
“I wish I knew who it was. Who could play such a quiet and cunning game?” Vladimir wondered aloud.
Sergey frowned and replied:
“We need to find this person. If even one link falls out, the whole chain will end. We will all be in trouble.”
They decided Vladimir should go to his parents’ place for a while. This was supposed to alarm whoever had started the intrigue. All upcoming deals were temporarily frozen to prevent dangerous actions. The friends promised to keep a close eye on the situation.
Vladimir fully trusted Stepa and Sergey. They had been friends since university and always supported each other. There was one incident many years ago when Stepan tried to leave their joint business for another path but soon returned and admitted it was better to stay together. That happened about ten years ago, and no one remembered the details anymore.
In the evening, after dinner, Vladimir decided to take a walk.
“Son, don’t walk too long. You never know,” joked his mother.
“Mom, don’t worry. I’m already over thirty, and I know every corner and every bench in this town,” he laughed.
Mother sighed. Of course, she would prefer her son to be home, near her, but she understood she couldn’t hold him back. Volodya had long since become an adult, and her worries only amused him.
Vladimir walked slowly along familiar streets. The evening was still early, many people were out, and the weather was perfect for a walk.
“Good evening! Want me to tell your fortune?” a girl with a wide smile suddenly stopped him.
“Well, if she has any gypsy blood, it’s very little,” thought Volodya, studying her. “Are you scared or just don’t believe in fortune telling?” the girl squinted, looking at him with interest.
Vladimir smiled:
“I’m not scared, I just don’t believe in it.”
The girl blushed:
“Let’s do this: I’ll tell you your fortune for today, and if my words come true, you’ll come back tomorrow and pay me.”
The girl sat down next to him on the bench, carefully turned his palm upward, but didn’t even look at it. Closing her eyes, she quietly said:
“Today you will do something you don’t expect from yourself. You will save a life and gain a loyal friend who will never betray you.”
Vladimir smiled:
“Unlikely. I already have such friends, and not just one, but two.”
She looked at him intently:
“Sometimes the obvious is not what it seems. Go.”
He shrugged and walked away. After a few steps, he heard her voice behind him:
“Lose to your father. He will be very happy.”
Vladimir turned sharply, but she was already gone. When he approached the house, he heard shouting from around the corner. There, a dirty man was beating a small puppy with a stick. Without hesitation, Volodya intervened.
Soon he returned home, holding the wounded puppy in his arms. Looking guilty at his mother, he said:
“Mom, I accidentally… That scoundrel almost killed him.”
Natalya Egorovna threw up her hands and immediately took the puppy to the bathroom, then to feed it. While she was busy, father and Volodya began preparing for fishing. Half an hour later, the clean and, as it turned out, beautiful puppy approached Volodya, sniffed him, and lay down at his feet. The father smiled and said:
Vladimir sat on the edge of the couch, gently holding the small puppy that had already started wagging its tail and trustingly nudging his hand with its nose. Mother fussed in the bathroom treating the scratches, father meanwhile checked the tackle and enthusiastically talked about how they would fish together at their favorite spot by the river. The air in the house was filled with coziness, the smell of herbs, and home warmth. And suddenly the father, smiling, said:
“Well, now he has recognized you as his owner. He will be your most faithful friend.”
Vladimir raised an eyebrow in surprise, recalling the words of the fortune-telling girl that still hadn’t fully settled in his mind. He looked at the puppy, into its devoted eyes, and for the first time in a long time felt something warm and alive stirring inside.
“Wow…” he murmured quietly, slightly smiling.
Then he looked at his father:
“Dad, why don’t you want a new car? A modern, beautiful one?”
Father smiled slightly, as if hearing a question asked hundreds of times before.
“It’s not that I don’t want one. It’s just that so much is connected with this ‘Audi.’ We went through so many hardships together. I know it like the back of my hand. It’s not just a car to me, it’s like a friend. If I change it — it would be a betrayal.”
The words hung in the air. Vladimir pondered. He remembered how many times he had been betrayed, how someone he trusted tried to destroy his business, ruin his career, even threaten his life. And now, sitting next to his father, he realized that true loyalty is not in words, not in signed contracts, but in devotion to people, in the ability to be there no matter what.
The next morning, at dawn, he and his father were already sitting by the familiar river. The water sparkled in the morning sun’s rays, the air was filled with freshness and silence. Vladimir, like a true master, laid out the fishing gear, checked the bait, while his father, with a satisfied smile, watched him like a little boy he once taught to fish.
But at one point, while Ivan Petrovich was distracted, Vladimir secretly released half the caught fish back into the water. He did it not out of pity but out of love — so that his father would be happy, so that his victory in the bet would be real, so that the old man would be proud of himself like in the good old days.
Father was happy. He patted his knees, laughed, showed off the catch, and was already planning how to celebrate the victory — maybe go to the sauna, maybe fry the fish over a campfire. Vladimir sat nearby, watching him and thinking about something else. About how maybe he really should spend New Year’s at home. And about how maybe it was time to rethink his priorities. New plans were already ripening in his mind — not business ones, not related to money, but very different, personal, important ones.
That same evening he came again to the very bench where he first met the mysterious girl. She was already sitting there as if waiting for him. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, her eyes clear and penetrating. She smiled at him like an old acquaintance.
“Not telling fortunes today?” Volodya asked, sitting next to her.
“I rarely do it, only if I feel it’s worth it,” she answered, a little mysteriously.
He took out his wallet and handed her money:
“Is this enough?”
“That’s more than enough,” she answered, looking at him surprised.
“I have a proposal for you. I’ll pay generously.”
She smiled:
“I’m a free person, money isn’t the main thing for me, but…”
When Vladimir finished speaking, the girl thoughtfully extended her hand:
“Sounds exciting. Especially since I’m on vacation now.”
“Are you studying?” he asked.
“Of course, fourth year. Fortune-telling is more of a hobby for me,” she answered with a smile.
When Vladimir learned that Nastya, his new acquaintance, was studying at the economics faculty, he couldn’t hide his smile. That profession, as he thought, didn’t quite fit her nature — she was too free and unusual.
But, as it turned out, it was exactly this mix of practicality and intuition that made her perfect for the mission he had in mind.
In half an hour, important negotiations were to begin. Their team, which everyone called “the chain,” was preparing to conclude new promising deals. The prospects were tempting, but the feeling of anxiety remained because Vladimir did not know who was undermining his business from within. Every step was dangerous, every step on the edge of failure.
Sergey sighed when he saw Nastya:
“I see, you found yourself a girl? Why bring a bride to negotiations?”
Vladimir replied with a smile:
“I have a smart fiancée. She’ll soon graduate from the economics faculty and will help me.”
Stepan shrugged:
“Your business. Just don’t let her get in the way.”
But Nastya was actually playing no bride role. It was a clever disguise, part of the plan. Vladimir explained the situation to her, and she agreed to help, although honestly admitted:
“I’m not sure I can handle it, but I’ll try.”
She felt strange in the new expensive outfit chosen for her. She looked at herself in the mirror and said with a smirk:
“With that money, I could live comfortably for six months.”
When people began gathering around the table, Nastya carefully studied them. Every gesture, every pause, every intonation — everything mattered. The waitresses were serving drinks, commanded by a young beautiful girl, Liza — Vladimir’s right hand, as he called her.
During the few days spent with him, Nastya unexpectedly realized she sincerely wanted to help him, not for money. This feeling was new and unusual for her, and she tried to suppress it. Especially since Vladimir often held his gaze on her, which embarrassed her.
Before the meeting started, Nastya asked him:
“Please, try not to look at me like that. It’s distracting.”
When it came time to sign documents, one participant said:
“Just a small thing left — a mere formality. Volodya, did you solve your problems? You understand that if one link falls out in the middle of work, it will ruin all of us.”
Vladimir glanced uncertainly at Nastya. She smiled and calmly stepped forward:
“Let me speak. It’s hard for Vladimir to discuss this, but we already found out who is behind this.”
Everyone froze. Nastya noticed Liza tremble — the very girl Vladimir called his right hand. A man asked in surprise:
“And who is it?”
“It’s Sergey,” Nastya said calmly.
A dead silence settled in the room.
“He acted out of love. And his love is her,” Nastya pointed at Liza.
Sergey jumped up, indignantly asking:
“What nonsense are you talking?”
Nastya turned to him:
“Did you know she has a child? And that she was in prison?”
Sergey looked at Liza stunned, but she suddenly shouted:
“I hate all of you, rich snobs! And you, idiot, I hate the most!” — then ran out of the room.
Sergey sat heavily in a chair and looked at Vladimir:
“Well, that’s it.”
A year passed.
The sunny day was unusually warm. In the garden behind the house, Graf — a big, strong dog — happily jumped around Vladimir and barked joyfully, running up to him. His tail wagged like a metronome, and his eyes shone with devotion.
Nastya, leaning on her husband’s arm, joked:
“Quiet, Graf. Or I’ll give birth right here.”
The dog tilted his head guiltily and licked her nose. Nastya laughed:
“Okay, I forgive you. Let’s go already, they’re waiting for us at the maternity hospital.”
She looked tenderly at Vladimir’s friends — at Stepan, at Sergey, who despite everything got a second chance, and at Ivan Petrovich, who now proudly drove them in his old Audi as if on a throne.
They all went through trials together, through betrayal, pain, and disappointment. But now their life had found new harmony. And betrayer Liza had to leave town after the scandal. Her business reputation was destroyed, and her secrets exposed.
Vladimir looked at Nastya, at her radiant face, at the belly where their future was growing. He smiled. Everything he had once lost — hope, faith in people, in family — he found again. And now, with family, friends, and Graf, who was more loyal to him than anyone else, he felt truly alive.
