Alina closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it with her back. Her head was splitting after yet another scandal. Three years of marriage had turned into an endless chain of fights, resentments, and icy silence.
Sergey was sitting in the kitchen, furiously typing something on his phone. Probably complaining to his mother about his wife. As usual.
Alina sat down on the bed and wrapped her arms around her head. When did everything go wrong? In the first year they had been happy. Or had it only seemed that way to her?
Now she woke up thinking about divorce and fell asleep with the same thought. But something held her back. Fear of being alone? Habit? Pity for the years she had spent on this marriage?
Something crashed in the kitchen. Sergey had apparently slammed a cabinet door. Alina flinched. Was it starting again? But no—silence.
She took out her phone and opened her messages. She wrote to her friend Lena: “I can’t do this anymore. I think I’m going to file for divorce.”
The reply came instantly: “It’s about time. Come over—we’ll talk.”
Alina exhaled. Yes, it was time. Tomorrow she would start gathering the documents.
The next morning, a letter arrived from a notary. At first Alina thought it was spam or scammers. But the address was real, and the stamp was real too.
“Dear Alina Viktorovna! You are invited to the notary’s office to arrange the inheritance from the late Valentina Nikolaevna Sokolova…”
Alina reread the letter three times. Aunt Valya had died? When? And why hadn’t anyone told her?
They hadn’t been close in recent years. They met at family holidays, and occasionally messaged each other. Her aunt lived in another city and had worked her whole life as an economist. She had no children.
Alina called the notary’s office.
“Hello, I received a letter about an inheritance…”
“Yes, Alina Viktorovna. Valentina Nikolaevna left you three million rubles. Come in to complete the paperwork.”
Three million. Alina froze with the phone pressed to her ear.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
“Yes, sorry. I… I’ll come tomorrow. Thank you.”
That evening Alina sat in the kitchen drinking tea. Sergey came back from work, tossed his jacket onto a chair, and opened the refrigerator.
“Didn’t cook anything again?” he grumbled.
“There’s yesterday’s soup.”
“I’m sick of your soup.”
Alina said nothing. She didn’t want a fight. And the news about the inheritance still wouldn’t fit in her head.
“Listen,” she began cautiously. “I got a letter today. From a notary.”
Sergey turned toward her.
“So?”
“Aunt Valya died. She left me an inheritance.”
“How much?”
He reacted quickly. Not “I’m sorry,” not “what a shame.” Straight to “how much.”
“Three million.”
Sergey whistled. His eyes lit up.
“Seriously? Three million rubles?”
“Yeah.”
He walked up to his wife and suddenly hugged her.
“Well, look at you! We got lucky!”
Alina tensed in his embrace. “We”? Since when?
“It’s my inheritance,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, yours. But we’re a family, aren’t we?”
He stepped back and smiled. Alina hadn’t seen that smile in a year. Wide, sincere… or fake?
“We should celebrate!” Sergey announced. “Let’s order delivery—sushi or something tasty!”
“Okay,” Alina agreed, watching him.
He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through restaurant menus, humming to himself. His mood had clearly improved.
And inside Alina, a strange feeling settled. Something wasn’t right.
The next morning, Alina woke up to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes—Sergey stood beside her holding a tray.
“Good morning!” he smiled. “Breakfast in bed!”
Alina sat up, bewildered. On the tray were a cup of coffee, croissants, and a vase with a flower.
“Where did the flower come from?”
“Bought it last night. Wanted to do something nice.”
Alina took the cup. The coffee had milk, just how she liked it.
“Thank you…”
Sergey sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her tenderly.
“You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we really should start over. Forget all the fights, fix things…”
“Sergey, what does that have to do with the inheritance?”
“It has to do with the fact that I realized life is short. Your aunt died suddenly, right? And I thought: why are we wasting time on conflicts? Let’s appreciate each other.”
It sounded nice. But for some reason, she didn’t believe it.
Over the next few days, Sergey behaved like the perfect husband. He helped around the house, asked about Alina’s day, gave her small gifts. He even bought flowers again.
Alina watched it all with growing mistrust. People don’t change overnight—especially after three years of mutual hurt.
And then her mother-in-law appeared.
Irina Petrovna used to come rarely, always finding reasons to criticize. “Dust on the shelf,” “the soup is too salty,” “why do you dress like that”—the list never ended.
But now she dropped by every other day. She brought pastries, smiled, asked about Alina’s health.
“Alinochka, I baked cookies! An old recipe! Try them!”
Alina took the cookies and nodded.
“Thank you, Irina Petrovna.”
“Oh, come on! We’re family! We need to support each other!”
Family. That word was being used more and more often.
The inheritance paperwork turned out to be a long process. Alina went to the notary, gathered certificates, stood in lines. Sergey always offered to come along.
“I can help! Moral support!”
They sat in the notary’s waiting room, waiting their turn. Sergey scrolled on his phone; Alina stared out the window.
“Have you thought about how you’ll spend the money?” he suddenly asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll buy an apartment.”
“An apartment? Why? We rent one.”
“I want my own place. So I’m not dependent on a landlord.”
Sergey frowned.
“Well… an apartment, maybe. Though a car would be more useful. It would be easier for me to get to work.”
“You already have a car.”
“An old one. It’s time to replace it.”
Alina turned to him.
“Sergey, it’s my inheritance. I’ll decide what to spend it on.”
He raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Of course, of course! I’m just suggesting. It’s up to you.”
But a flash of displeasure crossed his eyes.
Irina Petrovna began dropping hints too. At first casually, then more and more insistently.
“Alinochka, you know, my house is falling apart… the roof leaks, the windows are old… If only I could renovate…”
“Irina Petrovna, renovations are expensive.”
“Oh, I’m not asking! Just sharing my problems. We’re family—can’t we complain to each other?”
Alina nodded and stayed silent. But the hints were clear.
Four months passed. Finally, all the documents were ready, and the money hit Alina’s account. Three million rubles—an amount she had never held in her hands.
Alina sat at home staring at her phone screen where the balance was displayed. Unfamiliar. Scary. And at the same time—freedom.
Sergey came home earlier than usual.
“So—did the money come?”
“It did.”
He came over and looked over her shoulder.
“Holy… three million…” he whispered reverently.
Alina put the phone away.
“I’m thinking of putting it toward an apartment. A down payment, and the rest—mortgage. That’s more practical.”
“Hold off on the apartment,” Sergey sat down next to her. “Let’s think first. Maybe invest it in something?”
“I already have. An apartment is reliable.”
“Alina, listen…” he took her hand. “I did the math. If we buy me a decent car, I can drive taxi on the side. I’ll earn more! It’s an investment in our future!”
Alina pulled her hand away.
“No, Sergey. It’s my inheritance. I’m buying an apartment.”
Her husband’s face darkened.
“So you only think about yourself?”
“I’m thinking about my future.”
“And I’m not your future?”
Alina didn’t answer. Because the truth was: no. He wasn’t.
Sergey stood up and left the room, slamming the door loudly.
The next day Irina Petrovna called.
“Alinochka, come over! I baked a pie, made tea. We haven’t seen each other in ages!”
Alina wanted to refuse, but her mother-in-law insisted. She had to agree.
She drove to Irina Petrovna’s with a heavy feeling. Her intuition told her: an unpleasant conversation was coming.
Irina Petrovna’s house stood on the outskirts, in a private neighborhood. Small and old, but tidy. The fence was painted, the yard swept clean.
Alina parked by the gate and stepped out of the car. And then she noticed a familiar car—a silver Mazda that belonged to Sergey.
Strange. He had said he’d be at work until evening.
Alina walked slowly to the gate. Pushed it—it was open. She went into the yard.
Voices. A man’s and a woman’s. Coming from behind the shed.
Alina froze. It was Sergey and his mother. What were they talking about?
She moved closer quietly, trying not to make noise. She stood around the corner of the shed and listened.
“Are you sure she won’t suspect anything?” Irina Petrovna asked.
“Mom, she’s too trusting. She won’t suspect a thing,” Sergey replied.
“And if she finds out?”
“How would she? I’ll do it fast. She won’t even have time to understand what happened.”
Alina clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. What were they talking about?
“How much did you say is in the account?” the mother-in-law continued.
“Three million. I’ve known her banking app password for a long time. She never changes it.”
“Good boy! So you can transfer it all to me?”
“Of course. Just give me your account details.”
Alina felt the ground drop out from under her. They were planning to steal her money.
“And what will she do?” Irina Petrovna asked.
“What can she do?” Sergey laughed. “Cry, scream… But she won’t be able to prove anything. I’m her husband—we’re family. I’ll say she agreed to help my mother.”
“You’re a genius, son!”
“I can just imagine her face when she sees the money is gone!” Sergey laughed, and Alina heard the sound of fingers tapping on a phone screen.
At that moment, Alina’s phone vibrated in her pocket. A notification.
She pulled it out with trembling hands and looked at the screen.
“Transfer 3,000,000 rubles to account ****4567. Irina P.”
No. No, no, no!
Alina turned and ran to her car. Her hands shook so badly she couldn’t get the key into the ignition. Finally she started the engine and sped away.
On the road she called the bank’s hotline.
“Hello! I need help! Money was stolen from my account!”
“Hello. Please give your card number and your code word.”
Alina rattled off the details, nearly rear-ending the car in front of her.
“Yes, I see the transaction. A transfer of three million to the account of Irina Petrovna Morozova.”
“That’s fraud! I didn’t authorize it! Return the money!”
“One moment… The transaction was made through your mobile app, with SMS confirmation.”
“They stole my access! Please return it!”
The employee fell silent for a moment.
“Alright. I’m initiating a chargeback procedure. The transaction will be reversed within two hours. I also recommend changing all passwords and blocking the current app access.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
Alina hung up and exhaled. She made it. Thank God—she made it in time.
At home, the first thing Alina did was change the password to her banking app. Then her email. Then all her social media.
How did Sergey get access? He must have watched her enter the password. Or copied it somehow. It didn’t matter. The important thing was that now he couldn’t do anything.
She sat on the couch and clutched her head. Her husband had tried to steal her money. Her husband—someone she’d lived with for three years. A person she trusted.
Tears rose in her throat, but she held them back. Cry later. Right now she had to act.
An hour later, a notification arrived: “Transaction canceled. Funds returned to your account.”
Alina exhaled in relief. The three million were back.
She opened the app and moved the money to a new savings account that Sergey definitely didn’t have access to. She added extra protection—two-factor authentication.
Now she could breathe.
But the calm didn’t last long. Half an hour later Sergey barged in. His face was red, his eyes wild.
“What did you do?!” he screamed from the doorway.
“Hello, Sergey.” Alina stood up from the couch and crossed her arms. “Nice to see you.”
“Why the hell did you block the transfer?!”
“And why the hell were you trying to steal my money?”
Sergey froze. Confusion crossed his face, then anger again.
“It’s not stealing! We’re family!”
“Family doesn’t steal from each other.”
“I didn’t steal! I wanted to help my mother!”
Alina laughed.
“Help? By transferring all three million? That’s ‘help’?”
Sergey stepped toward her.
“Listen—those money should belong to the family! And the family is me and Mom!”
“Family is when people respect each other. When they don’t deceive. When they don’t steal!”
“I didn’t steal anything!” Sergey waved his arms. “You’re just greedy! You don’t want to spend money on people who are close to you!”
“Close?” Alina stepped right up to him. “You call yourself close—after what you planned?”
“What did I plan?! I didn’t plan anything!”
“I heard your conversation. With your mother. Behind the shed. I heard you laughing, imagining my reaction.”
Sergey went pale.
“You… you were eavesdropping?”
“I came to visit your mother like she asked. And I accidentally heard my husband discussing how to steal my money.”
“That’s not stealing!” Sergey shouted again. “We’re husband and wife! Everything should be shared!”
“Shared? Fine. Then let’s share your salary. Half to me?”
“What does my salary have to do with anything?!”
“The same thing your mother thinks my inheritance has to do with. Either everything is shared or nothing is. Funny how you remembered the word ‘shared’ only when it was about my money.”
Sergey clenched his fists.
“You’ll regret this! I’ll sue you! I’ll divide the property!”
“Go ahead. An inheritance isn’t divided in a divorce. It’s my personal property.”
“We’ll see!”
“Yes, we will. And for now, pack your things. Go back to your mother. Together you can come up with a new plan to trick me.”
Sergey took a threatening step closer, but Alina didn’t back away.
“Don’t come any closer.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll call the police. For attempted fraud. Do you think the bank didn’t record your attempt to steal my money?”
It was a bluff, but Sergey didn’t know that.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me. One more step—and I’m calling.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Sergey turned and went into the bedroom.
Ten minutes later he came out with a bag in his hand.
“You’ll regret this,” he hissed through his teeth. “I’ll ruin you! I’ll take everything through the courts!”
“Try.” Alina opened the front door. “Now leave.”
“This is my apartment too!”
“It’s a rental. And I pay for it. Your name isn’t on the lease. So it’s my apartment. Leave.”
Sergey threw the bag on the floor.
“I’m not leaving!”
“You will. Either on your own, or with the police.”
Alina pulled out her phone and started dialing. Sergey grabbed the bag and bolted out the door.
“This isn’t over!” he shouted back.
Alina shut the door and turned the key. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes.
That was it. Over. Three years of marriage built on lies.
The next day Alina booked a consultation with a lawyer. The young woman listened to her story and nodded.
“You did everything right. An inheritance is your personal property. It isn’t divided in a divorce.”
“And if he insists?”
“Let him insist. The law is on your side. The inheritance was received personally by you, not as marital property. Even if you had received it during the marriage, it still wouldn’t be subject to division.”
“So he gets nothing?”
“Nothing—unless you bought something jointly with that money. But you didn’t have time to, did you?”
“No. The money is in the account.”
“Then you’re fine. File for divorce. The process will be quick if you have no children and no property disputes.”
Alina exhaled in relief.
“Thank you.”
She filed for divorce that same day. At the registry office they told her the marriage would be dissolved in a month.
A month. Just a month—and she’d be free.
Sergey called every day. First with threats, then apologies, then threats again. Alina ignored the first ten calls, then blocked his number.
Irina Petrovna tried calling too. She sent messages accusing Alina of greed and heartlessness. Alina deleted her from her contacts.
She felt strange. Empty, but calm. Hurt, but relieved—as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Two weeks later a court summons arrived. Sergey had filed a lawsuit for division of property after all. He demanded half the inheritance, claiming they were husband and wife.
Alina came to the hearing with her lawyer. Sergey sat across the aisle, with Irina Petrovna beside him. Both stared at Alina with hatred.
The judge heard both sides. Sergey’s attorney tried to prove the inheritance was marital property. Alina’s lawyer methodically dismantled every argument.
“An inheritance is the heir’s personal property. Under Article 36 of the Family Code of the Russian Federation, property received by one spouse as a gift or by inheritance is that spouse’s property. It is not subject to division upon divorce.”
The judge nodded and left to deliberate.
She returned ten minutes later.
“The court’s decision: the claim is denied. The inheritance received by Alina Viktorovna is her personal property and is not subject to division.”
Alina exhaled. Sergey jumped to his feet.
“This is unfair!”
“Hearing adjourned,” the judge announced.
Alina walked out of the courtroom without looking back. Behind her she heard Irina Petrovna shouting, but she didn’t want to make out the words.
Outside, she stopped and took a deep breath. Fresh air, freedom, victory.
Her lawyer patted her on the shoulder.
“Congratulations. It’s all behind you.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“Reach out if you need anything.”
The divorce was finalized on the appointed day. Alina came to the registry office alone. Sergey didn’t show up—apparently still offended after losing in court.
The clerk handed her the divorce certificate. Alina looked at the document and smiled. Free. Officially free.
She left the building and sat on a bench in the little park across the street. She took out her phone and texted Lena: “Divorced. Finally.”
The reply came instantly: “Congrats!!! Come over, we’ll celebrate!!!”
Alina put the phone away and looked up at the sky. Autumn. Leaves swirled in the air; the sun broke through the clouds.
A new life. A clean slate.
The next week she began apartment hunting. A realtor showed her different options—one-bedroom, two-bedroom, different neighborhoods.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“A place of my own. Somewhere I’ll feel peaceful.”
“I understand.”
They viewed a dozen apartments. Some were dark, some were noisy, some she simply didn’t like.
And then the realtor showed her a two-room apartment on the fifth floor—bright, with big windows and a view of a park.
Alina walked in and froze at the threshold.
“This is it.”
“What?” the realtor didn’t understand.
“My apartment. I’m taking it.”
She made the down payment from the inheritance and took out a mortgage for the rest. A month later, she got the keys.
The move was quick. Alina didn’t have many belongings—she left most of them in the old rental. She didn’t want to take anything that reminded her of the marriage.
She ordered new furniture: a sofa, a bed, a table, a wardrobe. Everything simple and functional. No frills.
On the first evening in the new apartment she sat on the living room floor among boxes, eating pizza. She looked out the window at the city lights and smiled.
Silence. Her own space. No one would tell her what to do. No one would steal her money. No one would deceive her.
Her mother called.
“Sweetheart, how are you?”
“Good, Mom. Really.”
“I was so worried about you… That Sergey…”
“It’s all over. I got divorced, bought an apartment, started a new life.”
“I’m proud of you. Not everyone could do that.”
“I just realized in time that I had to act. If I’d hesitated—I’d have been left without the money.”
“Good thing you made it.”
“Yes. Very good.”
They talked a little more, then Alina hung up.
She sat on the windowsill and looked out at the city. Somewhere out there Sergey was living—probably with his mother—planning how to take revenge on his ex-wife.
But Alina didn’t care. Her life no longer intersected with his.
Half a year passed. Alina settled into the apartment, got used to the new neighborhood, made acquaintances with neighbors. She worked, met friends, exercised.
One day, leaving the grocery store, she ran into Irina Petrovna on the street. Her ex mother-in-law was carrying heavy bags and looked exhausted.
They froze, staring at each other.
“Hello,” Alina said coldly.
“You…” Irina Petrovna pressed her lips together. “You ruined my son’s life!”
“Me? Your son tried to steal my money.”
“He wanted to help the family!”
“By stealing?” Alina shook her head. “Goodbye, Irina Petrovna.”
She walked past without looking back. Behind her she heard the woman shouting, but the words no longer reached her.
At home, Alina put the groceries on the kitchen counter and sat down for tea. The encounter hadn’t ruined her mood. If anything, it reminded her how good it was to be rid of those people.
At work, Alina got a promotion. She was given a new project and a raise. Her boss praised her for responsibility and initiative.
“You’ve become more confident,” he remarked one day. “What changed?”
“Life changed,” Alina smiled. “For the better.”
One evening Lena came over. They sat in the kitchen drinking wine and chatting.
“You know, I saw Sergey recently,” her friend said.
“And how is he?”
“So-so. Older, worn out. Always looks sour.”
“I feel sorry for him,” Alina said, without a trace of sarcasm.
“Really sorry?”
“Yes. Sorry he’s so greedy and stupid. He could’ve lived normally, but he chose deception—and ended up with nothing.”
Lena nodded.
“And you did great. You saw it in time and reacted.”
“I got lucky. If I hadn’t overheard them, I would’ve been left without the money.”
“Lucky is when you’re ready to use your chance. You didn’t freeze—you called the bank, blocked the access. Someone else would’ve panicked and missed it.”
Alina thought for a moment.
“Maybe you’re right.”
They clinked glasses.
“To you. For being strong and smart.”
“Thanks.”
Lena looked at her closely.
“Are you happy now?”
Alina froze with the glass in her hand. She thought.
“You know… yes. I’m happy. For the first time in a long while.”
“Good. The main thing is not to forget that feeling.”
“I won’t.”
A year after the divorce, Alina met Anton. They met at a company party, talked, exchanged numbers.
At first they texted, then started dating. Anton was calm, reliable, honest. He didn’t pry about her past, didn’t pressure her, didn’t demand anything.
“You’re cautious,” he noted one day.
“Yes. I had a bad marriage. I don’t want a repeat.”
“I understand. I’m not in a hurry. Let’s move at the pace that’s comfortable for you.”
Alina was grateful for that understanding. With Anton, everything felt easy. He didn’t try to change her, didn’t criticize, didn’t lie.
Another half year passed, and they moved in together. Anton moved into Alina’s apartment.
“This is your apartment,” he said immediately. “I’m just living here as a guest. If something’s not okay—tell me, I’ll fix it.”
“You’re not a guest. You live here.”
“Still. The final word is yours.”
Alina hugged him.
“Thank you for understanding.”
They lived peacefully and in harmony. They shared chores, cooked together, planned weekends. No fights. No deception.
One day Anton asked:
“Did you ever regret getting divorced?”
“Not once. It was the best decision of my life.”
“And the money—do you regret not giving it to your ex-husband?”
Alina laughed.
“Are you kidding? That money gave me freedom—an apartment, independence, a new life. I don’t regret anything.”
Two years after the divorce from Sergey, Alina sat in her kitchen in her apartment, drinking morning coffee and looking out the window. Anton was making breakfast, humming to himself.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, coming over with plates.
“Oh… I remembered how two years ago I was standing at the notary’s office and receiving the inheritance. Back then it seemed like it was just money. But it turned out to be a ticket to a new life.”
“Without the inheritance, you wouldn’t have been able to leave Sergey?”
“I would have. But later. The inheritance just sped things up. It showed who was who—Sergey and his mother immediately revealed their greed.”
Anton nodded.
“Good thing you saw it in time.”
“Yes. If I hadn’t overheard their conversation, they would’ve stolen the money. And I would’ve been left with nothing. In a marriage to someone who betrayed me.”
“But you didn’t stay. You handled it.”
Alina smiled.
“I did. And now I live the way I want—in my own apartment, with someone I trust. No lies. No manipulation.”
Anton hugged her.
“And I’m glad you’re in my life.”
“Me too.”
They ate breakfast, got ready for work. An ordinary weekday. But Alina felt warmth spreading inside.
She had gone through betrayal, divorce, court battles. But she held on. And built the life she dreamed of.
Without toxic people. Without deception. Without fear.
Just happiness. Real, well-earned happiness.
And that was priceless
