Your mother registered her new husband in my apartment? I’m evicting both of them through the courts,” I flung the documents onto the table and stared at my husband.
Sergey turned pale. He slowly raised his head from his phone, and I noticed his hands trembling.
“Lena, calm down. It’s temporary… just for a couple of months,” his voice sounded uncertain.
“Temporary? And did you ask me? This is my apartment!” I didn’t recognize my own voice. “I left for five days and came back to a circus with clowns!”
It all started with an ordinary business trip in July. I work as an accountant in a construction company, and our branch was opening a new site. Nothing felt off — just another hot summer, just another trip. Who knew that in those five days my life would turn upside down?
The first alarm bell was a message from my neighbor, Olga: “Hi! Do you have guests? I saw some strangers carrying things in.” I didn’t pay it much attention — maybe Sergey had invited friends over.
When I opened the apartment door, there were two huge suitcases in the hallway that I’d never seen before. In the bathroom I saw unfamiliar men’s toiletries, and in the kitchen — new dishes.
“Sergey!” I called. “What’s going on?”
My husband came out of the room looking guilty.
“Lena, please, don’t get upset…”
Ten minutes later it turned out that my mother-in-law, Irina Vasilievna, had somehow managed to register her new husband Viktor at our address. In MY apartment, which I had inherited from my parents!
“How is that even possible? I never gave anyone a power of attorney!” I was shaking with anger.
“Mom said it’s just a formality… He needs registration for his pension. In a month or two they’ll deregister him,” Sergey lowered his eyes.
“And you believed her? Or you pretended to believe her?” I felt everything boiling inside. “Where are the documents?”
When I saw the papers, I understood — this was serious. Somehow my mother-in-law and her brand-new husband, a brisk retired military man, had pulled off a real scam. And my own husband had helped them!
“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” I sat across from Sergey at the kitchen table the next morning. “We’ve been married twelve years, and you have never done anything so… so vile.”
“Lena, Mom asked me for help, I couldn’t refuse,” Sergey looked exhausted. “Viktor’s a decent guy. He really just needs registration.”
“A decent guy doesn’t barge into someone else’s apartment without the owner’s permission,” I snapped. “Call your mother. Tell her to come over. Today.”
Irina Vasilievna showed up an hour later — elegant as always, perfectly styled hair and a light summer suit. Next to her stood Viktor — a fit man with a military posture and a piercing gaze.
“Lena dear, don’t get worked up,” my mother-in-law tried to hug me, but I stepped away. “This is just a misunderstanding. Viktor only needs temporary registration.”
“A misunderstanding?” I looked straight into her eyes. “You pulled off a scheme behind my back with my own property. How did you even manage it?”
Viktor stepped forward.
“Allow me to explain. I sold my apartment, and while I’m formalizing my pension, I need a registered address. Three months at most and…”
“I’m not interested in your problems,” I cut him off. “Deregister yourselves voluntarily, or I’ll go to court. All of you.”
“Lena,” my mother-in-law switched to attack, “do you know that this apartment was bought partly with my money?”
I froze. I looked at Sergey. He turned white.
“What?”
“When you two had just gotten married, your parents couldn’t cover the full amount. I added a third of the price,” Irina Vasilievna smiled triumphantly. “Didn’t Sergey tell you?”
A heavy silence fell over the room. I stared at my husband, not believing my ears.
“Is that true?” my voice dropped to a whisper.
Sergey nodded without lifting his head.
“I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d get upset…”
It was a blow below the belt. Twelve years of lies. For twelve years I believed that I lived in an apartment gifted by my parents. And it turned out I was in debt to my mother-in-law.
“Get out. All of you. I need to think,” I pointed to the door.
The first thing I did was call my sister Marina. As a lawyer, she went straight for the jugular:
“Lena, it doesn’t matter who put up the money. What matters is whose name is on the deed. Check the papers.”
I took out the folder with the apartment documents. There was a certificate of ownership in my name, a deed of gift from my parents…
“Marina, everything’s clean here. The apartment is entirely mine.”
“Then how did this Viktor get registered without your knowledge?”
Good question. I started looking through the papers more carefully and found a strange document — a power of attorney authorizing the handling of my registration matters, issued to… Sergey. With my signature, which I had never signed.
“The signature is forged,” I told my sister. “But how do you prove it?”
“A handwriting analysis,” Marina replied instantly. “I’ll handle it. And you, don’t make any sudden moves yet.”
In the evening my mother-in-law called.
“Lena dear, we need to talk. Can we come by tomorrow? Viktor wants to apologize too.”
I agreed. I needed to find out how deep this rabbit hole went.
The next day my mother-in-law and Viktor arrived with a huge cake and a bouquet. Sergey sat in the corner like a schoolboy who’d been caught misbehaving.
“Elena Andreevna,” Viktor began in an official tone, “I offer my sincere apologies for the inconvenience. But please allow me to explain the situation.”
“I’m listening carefully,” I said, folding my arms.
“I sold my apartment in Volgograd to move here with Irina. But to transfer my military pension to a new place, I need permanent registration. Irina suggested temporarily registering at your address…”
“And to do that you had to forge my signature?” I looked at Sergey.
Viktor was clearly embarrassed.
“I didn’t know… I was told everything was agreed.”
“Lena,” my mother-in-law cut in, “don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. So what if it’s registration! He’s not planning to live here.”
“It’s not about the registration, it’s about trust,” I looked at her. “You manipulated my husband behind my back and forged documents…”
“And who paid for this apartment?” suddenly snapped Irina. “You think your parents could have afforded such a purchase? Half the money was mine!”
“A third,” Sergey said quietly. “Mom put in a third.”
“Doesn’t matter!” my mother-in-law waved her hand. “This apartment is partly mine too. And if I want to register my husband here, I have every right!”
Viktor looked puzzled.
“Irina, you told me the apartment belongs to Sergey…”
Interesting twist. I looked at Viktor closely. It seemed he didn’t know all the details either.
“The apartment belongs to me,” I said clearly. “According to every document. And if money was given, it was formalized as a gift.”
“What gift?” my mother-in-law fumed. “I lent that money! Sergey, tell her!”
Sergey stayed silent, head down.
“You know what,” I stood up, “let’s do this. You, Viktor, gather your documents and get yourself deregistered from my apartment within a week. And you, Irina Vasilievna, provide proof that you invested money in the purchase of this apartment. IOUs, bank transfers — anything.”
“That was twelve years ago! Where am I supposed to get proof?” my mother-in-law exclaimed.
“Then the conversation is over,” I walked toward the door. “And yes, I’m filing a complaint for document forgery.”
“I talked to my brother,” Sergey said that evening. “Denis thinks we can settle this peacefully.”
Denis, my husband’s brother, worked in the city administration and knew his way around bureaucracy.
“And how, exactly?” I asked coldly.
“Maybe let Viktor stay registered until his pension paperwork is done? It really won’t take long.”
“After all of you lied to me?” I shook my head. “No way. Let him rent an apartment and register there.”
“Lena, try to understand, Mom really did help with the money…”
“And kept quiet about it all these years. And now she suddenly decided to present the bill?” I looked at my husband. “Sergey, you have to choose — either me, or your mother with her schemes.”
The next day the doorbell rang. On the threshold stood our neighbor, Petr Andreevich, a former prosecutor’s office employee.
“Good afternoon, Elena. Sorry to intrude, but I overheard your conversation yesterday. The walls are thin,” he smiled apologetically. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I invited him in and told him the whole story.
“Interesting,” Petr Andreevich thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “You know, I’d recommend an independent legal review of all the documents. If your mother-in-law really put in money and it was formalized as a loan rather than a gift, there could be complications.”
“But there are no loan documents!”
“That’s what needs to be verified. Give me a couple of days; I still have some contacts.”
Things moved fast. The day after my talk with Petr, my mother-in-law and Viktor suddenly showed up at our place… with suitcases.
“What does this mean?” I blocked their way into the hallway.
“We’re going to live here,” my mother-in-law declared. “Since Viktor is registered here, we have every right.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “No one is going to live here!”
“Mom, what’s going on?” Sergey looked confused. “You only talked about registration…”
“Plans change,” Irina cut him off. “They started renovating my apartment, it’s impossible to live there. And Viktor needs to be in the city to handle his paperwork.”
Viktor looked no less surprised than Sergey and me.
“Irina, we never discussed moving in,” he said quietly. “I thought we’d stay at a hotel…”
“Like hell we will! Throwing money away!” my mother-in-law stepped into the apartment decisively. “We have the legal right to be here.”
I grabbed my phone.
“One more step and I’ll call the police. Registration doesn’t give you the right to move in without the owner’s consent.”
At that moment, Petr Andreevich appeared. Hearing the commotion, he’d decided to step in.
“Good afternoon,” he introduced himself. “Former prosecutor’s office employee. I should tell you that unlawful occupation of a dwelling is a violation that can have serious consequences.”
My mother-in-law hesitated.
“And who are you to tell me what to do?”
“Just a neighbor who knows the law very well,” he replied calmly. “And I strongly advise you not to make things worse.”
After tense negotiations right there on the landing, Irina and Viktor left, but my mother-in-law promised that “this isn’t over.”
That evening Sergey and I sat in oppressive silence in the kitchen.
“I don’t understand what’s gotten into her,” my husband finally said. “She’s never acted like this before.”
“Maybe it’s because of Viktor?” I suggested. “They’ve only been together three months. What do you really know about him?”
“Almost nothing. Retired military, widower, came from Volgograd…”
The doorbell rang. On the threshold stood a young woman of about thirty.
“Hello, I’m looking for Viktor Pavlovich Sedov,” she said. “I was told he’s registered at this address. I’m his daughter, Natalia.”
Another twist! We invited Natalia in, and she told us an astonishing story.
“Dad sold his apartment in Volgograd for three million,” she said. “He said he was moving in with his new wife and would invest the money into their shared home. And now he hasn’t answered my calls for a week.”
“And you’re looking for him?” Sergey asked.
“Yes, I’m worried. And to be honest, I want to make sure the money actually went into housing and didn’t just… vanish,” she hesitated, “My father has never been particularly responsible.”
I exchanged a look with Sergey. The picture was becoming more and more interesting.
“And why are you so concerned about the sale money?” I asked carefully.
“Because half the apartment was mine,” Natalia replied. “My mom left me her share. And Dad and I agreed that after the sale he’d give me one and a half million.”
The next morning I got a message from Petr Andreevich: “Found some interesting documents. Come by when you have time.”
Our neighbor laid a folder of papers out in front of us.
“I found the original purchase contract for your apartment,” he said. “And indeed there is mention that part of the sum — 400,000 rubles — was contributed by Irina Vasilievna.”
My heart sank.
“But,” Petr went on, “take a look at the wording. Right here in black and white: ‘gratuitous financial assistance with no right to demand repayment and with no claims to a share in the acquired property.’”
“So it was a gift?” Sergey clarified.
“Exactly. Your mother has no legal rights to this apartment. She herself waived them when she handed over the money.”
That changed everything. I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders.
“And what about Viktor’s registration?” Petr asked.
“They forged a power of attorney in my name,” I answered.
“Then you need to file a complaint about the forgery and annul the registration,” he handed me a business card. “Here are the contacts of a former colleague of mine from the prosecutor’s office. He’ll help you sort it out quickly.”
Events took an unexpected turn when that evening… Viktor came to see us. Alone, without Irina.
“May I talk to you?” he looked tired and somehow lost.
We invited him into the living room.
“I have to admit,” Viktor began, nervously rubbing his hands, “I haven’t been completely honest with Irina. Or with you.”
“Really,” I folded my arms. “And your daughter Natalia was here yesterday. She was looking for you and her one and a half million.”
Viktor turned pale.
“Natalya was here? What did she say?”
“Enough for us to understand that you not only hid the money from the sale of the apartment from Irina, but also owe half of it to your daughter.”
Viktor sighed heavily.
“I got myself tangled up. When I met Irina, I thought it was just a pleasant companionship in my old age. Then she started talking about marriage, about living together… it all escalated so fast.”
“And you decided to take advantage of the situation?” Sergey asked.
“Not exactly. I really did sell the apartment, and I really do have to give half to Natalia. But I intended to put the rest into renovating Irina’s place so we could be comfortable. And then she suddenly insisted I register at your address, then started pushing for us to move in here…”
“Why?” Sergey didn’t understand.
“I think she’s afraid I’ll leave,” Viktor said quietly. “That I’ll take the money and disappear. So she wants to tie me to your family, create obligations.”
I shook my head.
“And were you planning to leave?”
Viktor was silent for a while.
“Not right away. But yes, I’m not ready for such… intensity. Irina is a very forceful woman.”
“So what now?” Sergey asked.
“I suggest a compromise,” Viktor straightened up. “I’ll compensate you for all the trouble — say, 200,000 rubles. You let me keep the registration for three months while I finish my pension paperwork. After that I quietly deregister and disappear from your life.”
“And what about my mother?” Sergey looked worried.
“That’s the hardest part,” Viktor admitted. “But the truth is, our relationship wouldn’t last anyway. Our characters are too different. Better to end this now than wait until I take all her savings and walk away.”
I thought long and hard about Viktor’s offer. On the one hand, I wanted to just throw him out and forget about all of this. On the other hand, practicality won. Two hundred thousand rubles is not a bad compensation for temporary inconvenience.
We called a “family council.” My sister Marina came, Sergey’s brother Denis, and our neighbor-advisor Petr Andreevich.
“Legally, you have every right to have him deregistered right now,” Marina said. “The power of attorney is forged, the registration is illegal.”
“But if he’s willing to pay and promises to disappear in three months, maybe it’s easier to agree?” Denis suggested. “Less drama.”
“And what about Irina?” Petr asked. “She’s also part of this problem.”
Sergey rubbed his forehead.
“Mom will be furious. She really has fallen in love with Viktor.”
“She’ll have to accept it,” I sighed. “Better now than when he empties her savings.”
After a long discussion, we decided to accept Viktor’s offer, but with additional conditions: he had to sign a notarized obligation to deregister in three months, and Irina had to sign a written waiver of any claims to our apartment.
The final meeting took place in our apartment. Irina was in shock when Viktor announced his decision in front of everyone.
“You… you used me?” she looked at him with pain in her eyes.
“Irina, don’t dramatize,” Viktor tried to speak gently. “We just rushed things. We should have gotten to know each other better before talking about marriage.”
“Before marriage? We’re already married!” my mother-in-law cried out.
“And that was a mistake,” Viktor said firmly. “I’ll file for divorce as soon as I’m done with the pension paperwork.”
Irina burst into tears and, oddly enough, I felt sorry for her. Despite all her scheming, she was just a lonely woman afraid of losing a late-found happiness.
“Irina Vasilievna,” I went up to her, “let’s be honest with each other. You helped Sergey and me with the apartment many years ago, and I’m grateful for that. But that doesn’t give you the right to run our lives.”
My mother-in-law lifted her tear-stained eyes to me.
“I just wanted to have a little happiness in my old age.”
“You can’t build happiness on lies,” Sergey said quietly, hugging his mother. “You deserve better than Viktor.”
In the end all the papers were signed. Viktor paid us the compensation, got his temporary registration and disappeared from our lives exactly three months later, as he’d promised. Natalia received her money. As for Irina… it was hardest for her.
Our neighbor Olga, who had watched the whole drama from the sidelines, unexpectedly became a support for my mother-in-law. They started going together to activities at the local seniors’ club, and little by little Irina thawed.
“You know,” my mother-in-law said to me one day when she came to visit, six months after it all, “I was wrong. About the registration, about claiming the apartment.”
“That’s all water under the bridge,” I replied. “The important thing is that we’ve all learned something.”
“Oh yes,” she gave a mirthless smile. “The main thing is not to lose your head over love at my age.”
“Not true,” Sergey objected. “The main lesson is to be honest with each other.”
We learned a lot too. Sergey finally stopped running back and forth between me and his mother and learned to set boundaries. And I realized that sometimes compromise isn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of wisdom.
As for our apartment — we finally did the renovation we’d been dreaming of. And our paperwork is now perfectly in order. No more surprises and no more uninvited guests.
As our wise neighbor Petr Andreevich likes to say, “Family secrets have a way of surfacing at the worst possible moment. Better not to create them at all.”
And, as always, he’s right.
