— “Your husband can celebrate his birthday without you. You go—go meet my daughter,” my mother-in-law declared brazenly.
Victoria slowly lifted her eyes from the colorful gift boxes she had been carefully arranging on the table. In the doorway stood Evelina Markovna—her mother-in-law—wearing an expensive burgundy-wine-colored dress.
— “Excuse me, WHAT?” Victoria set aside the satin ribbon she was about to tie around Avdey’s main present.
— “Are you deaf? My Milana is flying in from Dubai tonight. You need to meet her at Domodedovo, take her home, help her unpack. Avdey will manage just fine without your silly surprises.”
Victoria straightened up slowly. In four years of marriage she’d grown used to Evelina Markovna’s antics, but this was something else.
— “Evelina Markovna, tomorrow Avdey turns thirty-five. I’ve been preparing this celebration for half a year. I booked a table at his favorite restaurant, invited friends he hasn’t seen in years…”
— “YOU’LL CANCEL IT,” her mother-in-law waved a hand heavy with thick gold rings. “Milana matters more than your nonsense. She hasn’t been home for three months—she misses us.”
— “But I’m not a chauffeur or a servant! Milana has a husband of her own—let Rostislav meet her!”
Evelina Markovna narrowed her eyes, her burgundy-painted lips twisting into a contemptuous smirk.
— “Rostislav is busy. He has an important deal. And what useful thing do you do? You sit at home spending my son’s money on garbage. For once in your life, be of some use to the family!”
— “I work!” Victoria protested. “I run my own floristry studio—I have twelve employees!”
— “You sell little flowers,” her mother-in-law snorted. “That’s not work, it’s entertainment for bored housewives. Real work is signing multi-million contracts, the way my late husband did. Or the way Avdey does now.”
Victoria clenched her fists. A wave of anger rose in her chest—hot and suffocating.
— “Does Avdey know about your ‘request’?”
— “Avdey doesn’t have time for women’s foolishness. He’s in important negotiations in Yekaterinburg—he’ll only be back tomorrow afternoon. By then you’ll have taken Milana home and come back. Maybe you’ll even manage to cook something for your husband’s birthday. Though with your cooking skills, you’d better order takeout.”
— “I AM NOT GOING,” Victoria said firmly.
Evelina Markovna stepped closer, slowly. She smelled of expensive French perfume and arrogance.
— “Listen to me carefully, girl. You live in an apartment my son bought. You drive a car my son gave you. You wear jewelry my son—”
— “ENOUGH!” Victoria sprang to her feet. “I’m not a gold-digger! I have my own business, my own money! And we bought this apartment TOGETHER—I paid half!”
— “Oh, don’t make me laugh. Your pennies from selling daisies? Avdey let you ‘participate’ out of pity, so you wouldn’t feel like a freeloader. Though in reality, you are one.”
Her words hit hard and precisely. Victoria knew it wasn’t true—her flower studio was thriving, and she really had paid half the apartment. But Evelina Markovna had an extraordinary talent for twisting facts and presenting everything in her own favor.
— “You know what? You’ll manage without me. Let Milana take a taxi. Or meet her yourself, if she’s such an important person.”
— “Me?” Evelina Markovna pressed a hand to her chest. “I have a bad heart. Doctors forbade me to get upset and travel such a long distance. Domodedovo is a real trial for my health.”
— “But flying to Monaco every two months doesn’t seem to hurt your health,” Victoria couldn’t hold back.
Her mother-in-law’s face turned purple-red.
— “How DARE you! Ungrateful brat! We took you in—a penniless provincial—and you—”
— “I’m from Nizhny Novgorod, not some village! And I have a degree, my own business, and—”
— “SILENCE!” Evelina Markovna roared. “You’ll be at Terminal 3 at seven. Milana arrives at seven-thirty, flight from Dubai. And don’t you dare be late!”
With that, she turned and left the room, slamming the door.
Victoria sank onto the couch. Her hands trembled with anger and hurt. She grabbed her phone and called her husband. Long rings, then voicemail: “The subscriber is temporarily unavailable.”
For the next few hours Victoria paced the apartment, trying to decide. On one hand, she didn’t want to give in to her mother-in-law’s manipulation. On the other, she understood that refusal would lead to a massive scandal that would ruin Avdey’s birthday completely.
At five o’clock the phone rang. Her husband’s name lit up the screen.
— “Avdey! Thank God you called! Here’s the thing—”
— “Vika, hi. Listen, Mom said you’ll meet Milana. Thanks for agreeing. I know you two don’t get along, but it’s important.”
Victoria went numb.
— “So… you KNEW? And you didn’t say anything to me?”
— “Mom only called me an hour ago with it. I thought you’d already discussed everything. What’s the problem?”
— “The problem is tomorrow is your birthday! I organized everything—the restaurant, the guests—”
— “Oh, Vika, let’s move it to the weekend. What difference does it make when we celebrate? Milana rarely comes—she needs support. She and Rostislav have some kind of issues.”
— “She ALWAYS has issues! And why should I throw everything aside and race to the airport?”
— “Because you’re my wife and part of the family,” Avdey’s voice grew harder. “Don’t make a scene, please. I’ve got three more hours of meetings, then a banquet with partners. Meet Milana, take her home, and that’s it. It’s not hard.”
— “And the fact that I prepared your celebration for six months—doesn’t matter?”
— “Vika, DON’T START. I’m tired. Negotiations are tense. We’ll talk when I’m back.”
He hung up without saying goodbye.
Victoria stared at the dead phone screen. The hurt swelling inside her made her want to scream. She called her friend.
— “Alyona, hi. Can you come over? I need help.”
Half an hour later Alyona Mokeeva—her best friend and co-owner of the flower studio—sat at the kitchen table listening to Victoria’s messy story.
— “What an idiot,” Alyona exhaled when Victoria finished. “Sorry, but your mother-in-law is a real witch. And Avdey’s a good one too—Mommy’s boy.”
— “What do I do? If I don’t go, there’ll be a scandal for the whole building. Evelina Markovna will turn my life into hell.”
— “And if you do go, she’ll understand she can wipe her feet on you. You know what? I have an idea.”
Alyona took out her phone and started typing fast.
— “What are you doing?”
— “Texting our lawyer, Makar. Remember he said his brother has a transportation company? We’ll set everything up.”
Within an hour they had a plan. With grim determination Victoria got ready and drove to the airport. But not alone—Alyona insisted on coming with her.
Domodedovo greeted them with its usual chaos. Victoria stood at the arrivals exit holding a sign: “Milana Sechina.”
— “Maybe we should leave?” she doubted at the last moment.
— “NO WAY,” Alyona said firmly. “The plan’s already in motion.”
Milana appeared forty minutes after the plane landed. Tall, thin, long bleached hair, a haughty look on her face—a younger copy of her mother.
— “Victoria? Where’s the car? I’m tired. I want to go home.”
No greeting. No thanks for coming.
— “The car is in the parking lot. Let’s go.”
Milana snorted, looking Victoria up and down.
— “What are you wearing? Is that mass-market? God, Avdey could’ve found a more decent wife.”
Behind them Alyona hissed in quiet outrage. Victoria ground her teeth and said nothing.
They reached the parking lot. Next to Victoria’s car stood a young man in a driver’s uniform.
— “Good evening. I’m Timur, your driver for tonight.”
— “What kind of circus is this?” Milana flared up. “Victoria, you can’t drive yourself?”
— “I can. But I won’t. Timur will take you home. He knows the address. Have a nice trip.”
Victoria turned and walked away. Alyona followed.
— “HEY! STOP!” Milana screamed. “Where are you going? What about my bags? Helping me unpack?”
— “You’ll manage,” Victoria tossed over her shoulder.
— “I’LL COMPLAIN TO MOM! She’ll kick you out of the apartment!”
Victoria stopped and slowly turned around.
— “Tell Evelina Markovna I fulfilled her request—I met you. Helping with your bags wasn’t part of it. And tell her that tomorrow at exactly seven we’ll be celebrating Avdey’s birthday at the Marseille restaurant. If you or she show up there, security won’t let you in. The guest list has already been approved.”
— “You… you…” Milana choked on rage. “Who do you think you are?”
— “Your brother’s wife. A wife—not your maid. Timur,” Victoria nodded to the driver, “take madam home. Here’s the address just in case. And don’t listen to her hysterics—you’re not paid extra for that.”
She and Alyona got into Alyona’s car and drove off, leaving Milana standing in the parking lot, mouth open.
— “That was magnificent!” Alyona said, delighted. “You should’ve seen her face!”
— “Now it starts,” Victoria sighed. “Evelina Markovna won’t forgive me for this.”
Her phone started exploding with calls fifteen minutes later—mother-in-law, Milana, then mother-in-law again. Victoria muted it and threw the phone into her bag.
At home a surprise awaited her. Avdey stood in the doorway—disheveled and furious.
— “What the hell did you do? Mom’s hysterical, Milana’s crying! Have you lost your mind?”
— “You’re supposed to be in Yekaterinburg,” Victoria said, confused.
— “I flew in when Mom called! I canceled the most important meeting! Victoria, do you understand what you’ve done?”
— “I met your sister and arranged transportation for her. What’s the problem?”
— “You HUMILIATED her! You hired some driver, like she’s nobody!”
— “And WHO am I?” Victoria snapped. “A free chauffeur? A housemaid?”
— “You’re my wife and you have to help my family!”
— “I’m your wife, not your mother’s slave! And you know what? I’VE HAD ENOUGH! Four years—I’ve endured rudeness, humiliation, insults! Your mother wipes her feet on me, and you act like nothing is happening!”
— “Don’t exaggerate. Mom’s just… peculiar.”
— “Peculiar? PECULIAR? She called me a penniless nobody, garbage, a freeloader! And that’s just today!”
— “She’s emotional. Don’t take it to heart.”
Victoria looked at her husband as if he were a stranger.
— “Avdey, tomorrow is your birthday. I prepared it for half a year. I found your childhood best friend you’d lost contact with. I invited your favorite university professor. I ordered a cake made from your grandmother’s special recipe—only one place in Moscow makes it. And what? None of it matters because your spoiled sister needed a personal chauffeur?”
— “Stop the hysterics. We’ll cancel the restaurant and celebrate at home, as a family.”
— “As a family—meaning with your mother and sister?”
— “Of course. They’re family.”
— “And me?”
— “You too, of course. Don’t start being jealous.”
— “I’m not jealous. I’M LEAVING.”
Victoria went into the bedroom and pulled out a suitcase.
— “What are you doing? Vika, stop!”
— “I’m going to my parents’ in Nizhny. Celebrate your birthday with mommy and sister. I’m sure they’ll be happy.”
— “Victoria, ENOUGH! Put the suitcase down!”
— “NO.”
She quickly packed the essentials. Avdey stood in the doorway, not believing what was happening.
— “You’re serious? Over something so stupid?”
— “If four years of humiliation is ‘stupid’ to you—then yes, I’m serious.”
— “Where will you go? You don’t even have real money!”
Victoria froze, then slowly turned to him.
— “I have a business that brings in one and a half million a month in net profit. I have my own apartment that I rent out. I have savings that I never merged into our family budget—because your mother always hinted I was after your money. So don’t worry about me.”
Avdey went pale.
— “One and a half million? But you said—”
— “I said the business was doing pretty well. You never cared about the details. It was convenient for you and your mother to see me as a failure who sells ‘little flowers.’”
Avdey’s phone rang. The screen flashed: Mom.
— “Answer,” Victoria said tiredly. “Don’t keep Mommy waiting.”
Avdey mechanically accepted the call and put it on speaker.
— “AVDEY! Has that vile woman come back yet? I demand she apologize to Milana IMMEDIATELY! And to me! Otherwise let her get out of your apartment!”
— “Mom, I’ll call you back—”
— “DON’T YOU DARE hang up! You have to put that upstart in her place! Show her who’s boss in that house! I won’t tolerate this attitude toward our family!”
Victoria picked up her suitcase and headed for the door.
— “Vika, wait!”
— “Tell Evelina Markovna—she got what she wanted. I’M LEAVING.”
The door closed quietly behind her, but to Avdey it sounded like thunder.
— “Avdey? AVD-EY! Can you hear me?” his mother screeched through the speaker.
He ended the call and collapsed onto the couch.
The next day—his birthday—turned into a nightmare. Victoria didn’t answer calls. At the Marseille restaurant Alyona met him and coldly said the celebration had been canceled at the birthday man’s request.
— “But I didn’t ask to—”
— “Your mother called the administrator last night and said you’d be celebrating with family. We’ll return the deposit to Victoria’s card.”
The guests Victoria had invited called with congratulations and confusion. His childhood friend Pasha, whom Victoria had tracked down through social media, was especially upset—he’d flown in from St. Petersburg just for it.
At home, his mother and sister were waiting. On the table sat a supermarket cake and cheap champagne.
— “Happy birthday, sonny! See? We took care of you. Not like that ungrateful one.”
— “Mom, what is this?” Avdey pointed at the pathetic cake.
— “A festive dinner! Milana chose it. Right, sweetheart?” Evelina Markovna chirped, but her voice sounded fake.
— “Where’s Victoria?” Milana asked, looking around.
— “She went to her parents. Because of you.”
— “GOOD!” his mother rejoiced. “No need to tolerate hysterics! You’ll find a better wife. From a good family, with a dowry.”
— “Mom, Vika is from a good family. And she has a successful business.”
— “Ha! Flowers! Some ‘business.’”
— “Her studio is one of the most popular in Moscow. She has contracts with large hotels and restaurants. She decorated the deputy mayor’s wedding.”
Evelina Markovna pursed her lips.
— “Still. Her character is awful. Always acts superior.”
Avdey looked at his mother, then at his sister. And suddenly he saw what he hadn’t noticed before—pettiness, envy, malice.
— “You know what? Go home. I want to be alone.”
— “But sonny! Your birthday!”
— “HOME!”
His mother and sister left, offended, lips tight.
Avdey stayed alone in the empty apartment. On the hall table lay plane tickets—Victoria had bought them a one-week trip to Italy as his birthday gift. Now they felt like a cruel joke.
A week passed. Victoria didn’t come back and didn’t answer. Avdey tried to find her through friends, but they only replied coldly that she was fine and asked not to be disturbed.
Problems started at work too. It turned out several major clients had come to his company thanks to recommendations from Victoria’s business partners. Now those clients began doubting the firm’s reliability: if a man can’t manage relationships in his own family, how can he be trusted with million-ruble contracts?
Evelina Markovna called ten times a day, demanding he start divorce proceedings.
— “We have to beat that vile woman to it! She’s probably going to sue for half the property!”
— “Mom, the apartment is registered in both our names. She has a right to half.”
— “What right? You paid for everything!”
— “No. She paid exactly half. I have the documents.”
Evelina Markovna fell silent, then shrieked:
— “She did it ON PURPOSE! So she could take the apartment later!”
— “Mom, ENOUGH! It’s because of you my wife left! Because of your rudeness and arrogance!”
— “Me? I only ever wanted what was best for you!”
— “You humiliated her every time you saw her! Called her a penniless nobody, even though she earns more than Milana!”
— “DON’T you dare compare that upstart to your sister!”
Avdey hung up.
Two weeks later an unfamiliar number called.
— “Good afternoon, Avdey Markovich. My name is Makar Volokhov. I represent the interests of Victoria Andreevna. We need to meet to discuss the division of property.”
— “Is she filing for divorce?”
— “Not yet. But she wants to divide the jointly acquired assets and live separately. If you agree to a peaceful settlement, divorce can be avoided.”
— “I… I need to talk to her.”
— “Victoria Andreevna does not want personal meetings. All questions go through me.”
Avdey agreed to meet. On the appointed day he came to the law office. Victoria wasn’t there—only her lawyer, a young man with a sharp, steady gaze.
— “So. My client is prepared to leave you the apartment entirely in exchange for cash compensation for her share. The sum is fifteen million rubles.”
— “Fifteen million? But the apartment is worth twenty-five!”
— “Correct. Half is twelve and a half. Plus two and a half million—moral damages for four years of systematic humiliation by your mother, which you did not stop.”
— “That’s blackmail!”
— “It’s an offer. Refuse, and we’ll see each other in court. I have audio recordings of your mother’s insults toward my client, witness statements, messages. The court may order you to pay much more.”
— “What recordings?”
Makar pulled out his phone and played one. Evelina Markovna’s voice called Victoria a “pauper,” “filth,” “freeloader.”
— “Where did you get that?”
— “Victoria Andreevna recorded every meeting with your mother for the past two years. For her own protection. She knew sooner or later it would be needed.”
Avdey signed all the documents. A month later the money was transferred, and Victoria officially gave up her share of the apartment.
He tried to track her down, learn where she lived. But Victoria seemed to vanish. The flower studio operated, yet the owner never appeared—Alyona ran everything.
And then the real trouble began.
A tax audit arrived out of nowhere. It turned out Evelina Markovna—who had been “helping” her son with bookkeeping for years—had been running gray schemes through his firm for her friends. The sums were enormous.
— “Mom, what is this?” Avdey shook papers in her face.
— “I have a bad heart, but I’m not stupid!” Evelina Markovna screamed. “I thought it was small income streams of your company!”
The fine was eight million rubles. Plus penalties. Plus the threat of a criminal case.
Milana, as soon as she heard about the tax problems, packed her suitcase and flew to a friend in Miami, leaving Rostislav to deal with debt on her credit cards.
— “Mom, do you understand I could go to prison?” Avdey held his head in his hands.
— “You’re exaggerating! You’ll pay the fine and that’s it.”
— “With what money? I paid Victoria fifteen million, now another eight million to the tax office!”
Six months went into dealing with it all. Avdey sold the car, took loans, put up his share of the business as collateral. Evelina Markovna suddenly grew much quieter and called less often—apparently she realized her son was no longer a golden cow.
A year later, when the worst was over, Avdey ran into Alyona near a shopping center.
— “Hi,” he said.
— “Hi,” she answered dryly and headed for the exit.
— “Alyona, wait. How is Victoria?”
She stopped and looked him up and down.
— “Great. She’s happy.”
— “Can you tell her I’d like to meet? Talk?”
— “Fine.”
They met a week later at a small café. Victoria looked wonderful—rested, calm. A new ring glinted on her hand.
— “Thank you for agreeing,” Avdey began. “I wanted to apologize. For everything. You were right. Mom… she really is unbearable.”
— “Thank you for the apology.”
— “Vika, maybe we could try again? I understood a lot. I changed…”
— “Avdey,” she interrupted gently, “you and I are different people. You’ll choose your mother—I know it. And I need a husband who will be on my side.”
— “But I love you!”
— “And I don’t anymore. I’m sorry.”
She nodded toward the ring.
— “We divorce peacefully?”
Avdey nodded. There was no other way.
He signed the divorce papers a month later. That same evening Evelina Markovna called again with another complaint about the building management company.
— “Mom,” Avdey said quietly, “I’m tired.”
And at that very moment Victoria stood in line at the registry office with documents for a new marriage registration. Beside her, holding her hand, was a tall man with kind eyes—surgeon Dmitry, who never yelled and considered the flower business serious work.
