Dmitry Vladimirovich Kravtsov was staring at the numbers in the report and couldn’t believe it. The third restaurant in two years had reached its break-even turnover already in the second month of operation. In Petersburg, that was almost impossible.
“Dim, your mom is calling you,” Anna handed him the phone without taking her eyes off the negotiations with the fish supplier. “She says it’s urgent.”
He took the receiver, still reviewing the documents. His mother had been crying on the phone for a minute before he could make out the words.
“Dimochka, Igor has such problems… He urgently needs money, otherwise…” — sobbing drowned out the rest.
“Mom, calm down. How much do you need?”
“Two hundred thousand. He promised to return it in a month as soon as he gets his salary for the project.”
Dmitry glanced at Anna. She had finished her conversation and was now looking at him with that expression she always wore when it came to his relatives.
“All right, Mom. I’ll transfer it today.”
After hanging up, he met his wife’s gaze.
“Igor again?” she asked in a flat tone.
“He has problems.”
“Just like three months ago, when he asked for a hundred thousand for his son’s treatment. And six months ago, when he urgently needed to pay off debts on a loan.”
Dmitry put the papers aside.
“Anya, he’s my cousin. If I can help…”
“What about the money you gave him before? Did he return even a single ruble?”
“Not everyone can run a business as successfully as we do. He has a salary…”
“Dima,” Anna stepped closer, “I saw him last Saturday. He was leaving DLT with bags. On his wrist were a watch worth more than what he asked you for the child’s treatment.”
“Maybe someone gave it to him as a gift.”
“Or he bought it with your money.”
Dmitry got up from the table and walked to the window. Down below, on Rubinstein Street, people were bustling about. Some were entering their first restaurant — the one where it all started four years ago.
“You know what would have happened to me if my business hadn’t been lucky?” he said without turning around. “They would be helping me. Igor, Mom, Lena… They’re family, Anya. The closest people I have.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s how it should be.”
Anna was silent. They had been through this conversation dozens of times, and she knew it was impossible to change his mind. Dmitry genuinely believed that family ties meant mutual support. He grew up in a family where this was constantly preached, where since childhood he was told: “Only your own people will never betray you.”
But she grew up in a different family.
“All right,” she said. “Transfer the money. But I want to ask you one thing.”
“What?”
“Check what he spent the previous money on. Just check.”
Dmitry’s face changed.
“I’m not going to spy on my relatives like a private detective.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s humiliating. For them and for me.”
“Or because you’re afraid to find out the truth?”
He turned sharply.
“What truth?”
“That they don’t care about you. That you’re just an ATM to them.”
“Enough.”
Anna knew she had to stop, but she couldn’t. She had watched for too many months how he was being used. How his mother called every two weeks with new requests. How his sister Lena came in tears telling how her husband needed money for business development. How Uncle Vova asked to borrow money for the dacha, car, treatment — always something new.
For four years she had managed all the financial documents and knew exactly: Dmitry’s relatives had taken more than two million rubles. Not counting gifts, paid vacations, and other “small things.”
“Dim,” she said quietly, “I don’t want to argue. But I have a proposal.”
“What kind?”
She paused, gathering her thoughts. What she wanted to suggest seemed crazy. But she saw no other way to open his eyes.
“Tell them you’re sick.”
“What?”
“Say that they found something serious. That doctors gave you a few months.”
Dmitry looked at her as if she had gone mad.
“Anya, do you realize what you’re saying?”
“I do. Say you want to put things in order. Write a will. And consult each of them on how to best dispose of the property.”
“Why?”
“To see what they’re really worth.”
Dmitry shook his head.
“That’s cruel.”
“Cruel is what they’ve been doing to you every day.”
“They love me.”
“Then you have nothing to fear, right? If they love you, not your money, you’ll see it.”
He was silent for a long time, staring out the window.
“And if you’re right?” he finally asked.
“Then you’ll finally learn the truth.”
“And then what?”
“Then you decide what to do with that truth.”
He called his mother that same evening. His voice trembled though he tried to sound calm.
“Mom, I need to talk to you. In person.”
“What’s happened, Dimochka?”
“I’ll tell you when we meet. Tomorrow?”
She came by at ten in the morning, anxious and frightened. Dmitry led her to the study, poured tea.
“Mom, I have bad news.”
She turned pale.
“Is something wrong with Anya?”
“No. With me.” He paused. “I was diagnosed. Pancreatic cancer, stage four.”
The cup fell from her hands.
“Dimochka… No… This is a mistake…”
“I got tested in three clinics. Doctors say I have three to six months.”
His mother sobbed. And in her sobbing, in how she rushed to him, hugged him, Dmitry felt relief. Anna was wrong. His mother loved him.
But half an hour later, when the first shock passed, she asked:
“Dimochka, what will happen with… well, the money? The restaurants?”
“I don’t know yet. I want to consult with relatives. Write a will.”
“Of course, of course.” She wiped her eyes. “You understand, Anya… she’s a good girl, but she’s not family. And family is sacred. Blood is thicker than water.”
“Mom…”
“No, listen. I’m not saying anything bad about Anya. But think for yourself — what does she know about our family? She could sell everything and leave somewhere… And she has her own family, parents. She’ll help them, but what about us? After all these years, how we helped each other…”
Dmitry listened and felt something cold spreading across his chest.
“What do you suggest?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, son. It’s your decision. But if you want my opinion… Igor is a good boy, responsible. He could run the restaurants. Or Lena and her husband — they have their heads on their shoulders. And leave the apartment to Anya, that’s enough for her.”
In the evening he met with his sister Lena. She was also crying, hugging him, saying it was unfair. And then, when the conversation turned to the will, she said:
“Dim, I don’t want to speak badly about Mom, but you know how she is. She’ll give all the money away left and right. Remember how Dad left her the dacha? She sold it for half price because Uncle Vova urgently needed money. And Igor… Dimochka, he drinks. You see it yourself. He’ll drink it all away within a year.”
“And you?”
“I’d keep everything. For the family. And Anya — she’s young, pretty, she’ll find someone else. What does she need your restaurants for? She understands nothing about them.”
“Len, she’s been managing all supplier affairs for four years…”
“So what? That doesn’t mean she can run the business. That’s a completely different thing.”
The next day Igor arrived. Hearing the news, he sat silently for a long time, then said:
“Brother, this is terrible.”
“Igor…”
“No, seriously. You’re still so young.” He paused. “Listen, what will happen to the business?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking.”
“Maybe you’ll hand it over to me? I’m almost a lawyer, I understand economics. And family, after all. Not like Mom — she doesn’t understand money at all. Lena with her husband… he’s just a freeloader living off her. And your Anya — sorry, but she’s an outsider. She’ll cry for you for a year or two, then find someone else.”
“Igor, Anya…”
“Dim, you’re no fool. Beautiful woman, young, and there’s so much money. You think she’ll stay alone? She probably already has someone.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw her last week. Sitting in a cafe with some guy. Maybe business, maybe not. But they looked like… well, you know.”
Dmitry felt his heart skip a beat.
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent. She held his hand.”
Uncle Vova came in the evening, brought cognac, and sat down next to the couch.
“Dimka, hang in there. Anything can happen.”
“Thanks, Uncle Vov.”
“Have you thought about what will happen after you?”
“I’m thinking.”
“To me, it’s clear. The business must stay in the family. Igor is young but stupid. Lena — she’s brainless. Your mother — she’ll squander everything. And your wife…” He shook his head. “She’s a good person, but not our blood. She could sell everything, go to Moscow or even abroad. And what about us?”
“What do you suggest?”
“Trust me. I’ll support everyone, won’t offend anyone. And most importantly — everything stays in the family.”
“Uncle Vov, remember you said Igor quit work?”
“Yes. So?”
“Mom said he’s finishing a project and waiting for salary.”
Uncle Vova snorted.
“What project? He hasn’t worked for six months. He’s living off you, by the way. I told him to find a job, and he said: ‘Why? Dimka will help.’”
“And Lena? She said her husband needs money for business.”
“What business? Her husband plays poker. Always losing. Lena asks you for money to pay off his debts.”
“How do you know?”
“Everyone knows. Only no one tells you — they pity you.”
Dmitry stood, walked to the window.
“Uncle Vov, what if I had no money… if I needed help myself… who would help me?”
Uncle was silent for a long time.
“Who knows, Dimka…”
“And you?”
“I would, of course… but I myself… you know, pension is tiny…”
The next day Dmitry sat in his office trying to put his thoughts in order. In a week, he had learned more about his relatives than in his whole life. Everyone considered the others unworthy, everyone told stories about how others had deceived and used them. And everyone was sure that the wife was an outsider, and only relatives could be trusted.
Anna came in with tea and documents.
“How are things?” she asked cautiously.
“You were right.”
“About everything?”
“Almost.” He looked at her. “Igor says he saw you with some man. In a cafe.”
Anna frowned.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Oh, that was Sergey. A new seafood supplier. We were discussing the contract.”
“Igor said you held his hand.”
“I was looking at his watch. It’s a vintage Rolex. I wanted to buy one like that for your birthday.”
Dmitry looked into her eyes and understood — she was telling the truth. As always.
“Anya, if I really had nothing… if I needed help… would you…?”
“Dima, what are you talking about?”
“Answer me.”
“Of course. We’re family.”
“But you’re not blood.”
“Does that matter?”
He hugged her tightly.
“No. It doesn’t.”
On Saturday, as usual on big holidays, all the relatives gathered at the country house. Mother set the table, Lena brought a cake, Igor — vodka, Uncle Vova — cognac. Anna kept to the side — she never really became one of them.
After dinner, when everyone had drunk a bit and relaxed, Dmitry stood up.
“I want to tell you something.”
Everyone fell silent.
“Remember I told you about the diagnosis?”
Faces turned serious.
“So. Today I got the results of new tests.” He paused. “A miracle happened. I’m healthy.”
For a second, everyone was silent, then erupted in cheers. Mother cried, Lena rushed to hug him, Igor and Uncle Vova started talking at once.
“Wait,” Dmitry said when the noise subsided. “I’m not finished.”
Everyone fell silent again.
“In this week, I understood a lot. About you. About myself. About what family really means.”
“Dimochka, what do you want to say?” asked mother.
“I want to say that for you, I’m dead.”
“What?” Lena was the first to understand where he was going.
“Understand this: your wife is a stranger. Your business and apartment should go to one of your relatives,” he quoted his mother’s words. “Remember who said that?”
Mother blushed.
“Dimochka, I didn’t mean that…”
“And what did you mean when you said Igor drinks and will drink it all away?” he turned to Lena.
“Dim, well, that’s…”
“And what did you mean when you said Lena is brainless and mother will squander everything?” he asked Uncle Vova.
“Dimka, we didn’t mean it seriously…”
“And what did you mean when you said you don’t need to work because Dimka will help?” he turned to Igor.
Igor went pale.
“How do you…”
“Never mind how. What matters is that it’s true.”
Dmitry scanned everyone with his gaze.
“In four years, you received more than two million rubles from me. Not counting gifts and everything else. And not a single kopeck returned. And yet each of you considers the others unworthy of my help, and yourself the only one deserving the inheritance.”
“Dim, but you offered to help…” Lena started.
“I did. And I helped. And I will help. But not you.”
“Dimochka,” mother stood up and approached him, “what are you saying? We’re family…”
“Family doesn’t betray each other. Doesn’t deceive. Doesn’t use. And that’s exactly what you have been doing all these years.”
“And is she a saint?” Igor nodded toward Anna. “She lives off your money!”
“She works twelve hours a day for that money to appear. And what do you do?”
“Dim, we’re family,” Uncle Vova said quietly.
“Family is not blood relation. Family is people who are there in a hard moment. Who love you, not your wallet.” He took Anna’s hand. “This is my family.”
“Dimochka, you can’t do this…” mother cried.
“I can. And I am.” He took out his phone. “Tomorrow morning you’ll receive a message on your phones with a new number. This is the only way to contact me. But you can call only in one case — if someone really faces death or serious danger. They will pass it on to me. For all other matters — forget I exist.”
“Dima,” Lena stepped closer, “we didn’t mean…”
“Of course not. You just wanted money. And you got it. Four years straight.”
“And what if we really need help?” Igor asked.
“Ask each other. You’re relatives.”
Dmitry took Anna’s arm, and they went out to the terrace.
It was quiet outside the door, only the wind rustled in the pines. Anna was silent, giving him time to recover.
“Do you regret it?” she finally asked.
“About what?”
“That you checked.”
Dmitry stopped, looked at the sky.
“No. I regret not doing it earlier.”
“And now?”
“Now we’ll go home to the city. Tomorrow we have a meeting with investors about the fourth restaurant.”
“Dim…”
“What?”
“I think we freed up a lot of money in the budget?”
He laughed for the first time that week.
“Two million a year. Approximately.”
“And what will we do with it?”
“I don’t know. We’ll think.”
They reached the car. Dmitry opened the door for his wife, walked around, got in the driver’s seat. The lights in the house went on — the relatives apparently stayed to discuss the situation.
“I wonder what they’re saying there,” Anna said.
“Probably that I’ve gone crazy. That you turned me against them.”
“Maybe you really did?”
Dmitry smiled and started the car. In the rearview mirror, the lit house flashed, then trees blocked it.
“Anya, be honest — did you know what they were like from the start?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say?”
“If I said, would you believe?”
He was silent.
“Probably not.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They drove along the night highway, and Dmitry felt a strange relief. As if a huge burden fell from his shoulders that he hadn’t even noticed carrying.
“Anya, do you think they’ll learn their lesson?”
“What lesson?”
“Well, maybe they’ll start living differently. Work, not freeload.”
Anna smirked.
“Dim, you know them better than me.”
“So, they won’t?”
“They’ll find another sponsor. Or blame me for everything.”
“Most likely, you.”
“Most likely.”
“Does that upset you?”
“And you?”
Dmitry thought.
“You know, no. For the first time in many years — no.”
Ahead appeared the city lights. Their city, their life, their future. Without extra people, without fake obligations, without those who love not you, but what you can give.
“Anya, why do you love me?”
“For your beautiful eyes.”
“Seriously?”
“And you?”
“For the fact that you’re near. Always near.”
“Same here.”
Dmitry smiled and accelerated. At home, plans for tomorrow, documents for the new restaurant, and a life awaited them — finally without people who consider him their personal ATM.
A good life.
