— “Move out of your apartment!” the mistress told Margarita. “Your husband and I are a family—we’re going to live here.”
Margarita was slowly turning the pages of an old photo album when a sharp ring sounded at the door. She set the album on the coffee table and walked to the door, puzzled about who could be calling at that hour. On the threshold stood a young woman in a bright red dress, with bold makeup and a smug smile on her lips.
“Are you Margarita?” the stranger asked, giving the hostess an appraising look.
“Yes. And who are you?”
“I’m Kristina. May I come in? We need to talk.”
Margarita reluctantly stepped aside to let her into the hallway. Kristina walked into the living room without waiting to be invited and sat down on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other.
“I’ve come to tell you some important news,” she began without preamble. “You have to move out of this apartment.”
Margarita froze.
“Excuse me—what?”
“Move out of your apartment!” the mistress declared to Margarita. “Your husband and I are a family—we’re going to live here.”
Silence hung in the room. Margarita slowly sank into the armchair opposite.
“You’re talking about Viktor? About my husband Viktor?”
“Exactly. We’ve been seeing each other for six months. He’s wanted to tell you for a long time, but he couldn’t bring himself to. So I came myself. Viktor is moving in with me in the next few days, and then we’ll come back here. The apartment is three rooms—spacious. It’ll be perfect for our future family.”
Margarita sat motionless, processing what she’d heard. There were no tears in her eyes, no hysteria—only an icy calm.
“And Viktor knows you’re here?”
“Of course NOT! He would never have let me come. He keeps saying he needs time, that he can’t do it all at once. But why drag it out? The faster you clear out the apartment, the better for everyone.”
“I see,” Margarita said quietly. “And where is Viktor now?”
“On a business trip. He’ll be back in three days. By then, you should already have packed your things.”
Kristina stood, tugged her dress into place, and headed for the door.
“I’ll leave you my number. Call when you’re ready to hand over the keys.”
The door slammed. Margarita remained in the armchair, staring at the business card the mistress had tossed onto the table.
The next morning Margarita woke up with a clear purpose. She took a shower, dressed carefully, and sat down at her computer. The first thing she did was open the family bank account—the one she and Viktor had been saving into for the last fifteen years. The amount was substantial.
Then she took out a folder of documents. The apartment they lived in had been bought by her parents and given to her as a wedding present. Back then, Viktor had insisted the home be registered in both their names—“we’re family,” he’d said. Margarita had agreed without a second thought.
She dialed her friend Elena, who worked as a lawyer.
“Lena, I need your help. Urgently.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later. Can you come over?”
An hour later Elena was sitting in the kitchen, carefully examining the documents.
“Okay. The apartment is registered to both of you, but there’s a prenuptial agreement. Remember signing it?”
“Vaguely. Viktor said it was just a formality.”
“A formality that’s going to help you now. Look—this clearly states: in the event of infidelity by one party, the unfaithful spouse loses the right to jointly acquired property.”
“But how do you prove infidelity?”
“You don’t have to prove anything in this case. I have a better idea.”
Elena took out her phone and started searching for something.
“Here—found it. My colleague handles family cases. She’ll help get everything done properly. But first we need to find out a few things about this Kristina.”
Over the next two days Margarita kept busy. She transferred the money from the joint account to her personal one, arranged a power of attorney for Elena, and gathered the necessary documents.
In the meantime, some interesting details about Kristina came to light. The girl had already been married twice, and both times the marriages had ended in scandal. What’s more, she had debts to several banks.
“EXCELLENT,” Elena said, studying the information they’d collected. “Now we just need to play this the right way.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Let Viktor make the decision himself. We’ll just create the right conditions.”
Viktor returned from his business trip on the evening of the third day. Margarita greeted him as usual—served dinner, asked about the trip. The man looked tense, constantly glancing at his phone.
“Is everything okay?” Margarita asked, pouring tea.
“Yes, I’m just tired.”
At that moment the doorbell rang. Viktor jolted, but Margarita got there first.
“I’ll open it.”
On the doorstep stood Kristina—this time in a строгий suit and holding a folder of documents.
“Is Viktor home?” she asked, ignoring Margarita.
“Come in,” Margarita replied calmly.
Viktor froze in the kitchen doorway when he saw his mistress.
“Kristina? What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean, what? We agreed! You promised you’d take care of everything!”
Margarita sat at the table and picked up her cup of tea.
“Maybe you can explain what’s going on?”
Viktor turned pale. Kristina, on the other hand, straightened up in a combative stance.
“Your husband promised to marry me. We’re expecting a child!”
That was news even to Viktor. He stared at his mistress, eyes wide.
“What? Kristina, you said…”
“I said I wanted a family. And now your wish has come true. So LET’S sort this out faster. Margarita, I already explained—you’ll have to move out.”
Margarita slowly set down her cup.
“I see. Viktor, is that true?”
The man fell silent, not knowing what to say. Kristina pulled some papers out of her folder.
“Here—I even prepared a lease agreement for an apartment for you. A one-bedroom, not far from here. Perfectly decent for a single woman.”
“How thoughtful,” Margarita sneered. “Viktor, are you going to say anything?”
“I… Rita, I’m sorry. It just happened.”
“Just happened—six months of seeing each other? Or ‘just happened’—a baby?”
Viktor lowered his head. Kristina looked triumphant.
“Great. Then it’s settled. When are you moving out?”
“You know what,” Margarita said, standing up from the table. “I thought it over and I’ve decided: the apartment is yours. Take it.”
Kristina beamed. Viktor lifted his head in astonishment.
“Rita?”
“Only there’s one condition. Actually, several. Sit down—we’ll make it official.”
Margarita took out the documents she had prepared in advance.
“So. First—Viktor, do you remember our prenuptial agreement?”
“What agreement?” Kristina blurted out…
“An ordinary one. The kind that states that if one spouse is unfaithful, they lose rights to jointly owned property. But I’m willing not to invoke that clause. On one condition.”
She placed a document on the table.
“This is an asset division agreement. The apartment stays with you, Viktor. But in return, you waive any and all claims to my share of the business.”
“What business?” Viktor asked in surprise.
“The one I started three years ago. Remember I told you about the handicraft classes? Well, it hasn’t been classes for a long time now—it’s a network of workshops all over the city. Income is about two million a month.”
Viktor’s mouth fell open. All this time he’d thought his wife was wasting time, just hanging out with her girlfriends.
“THAT CAN’T BE!”
“It can. Here are the documents. And by the way, Kristina—do you know that Viktor is just a mid-level manager? Salary: eighty thousand. The apartment was bought by my parents. The car was a gift from them too. The savings in the account are my business transfers. But I’m willing to leave you the apartment. Generous, isn’t it?”
Kristina looked from Margarita to Viktor.
“This is some kind of LIE! Viktor said he owned a company!”
“Owned a company?” Margarita laughed. “Oh, that’s interesting. Viktor—tell Kristina about your ‘company.’”
The man stayed silent, clenching his fists.
“Fine, I’ll tell her. Viktor works at Stroyresurs. Sales manager. The department head is Pyotr Semyonovich—by the way, a good acquaintance of mine. He was very surprised when he found out Viktor presents himself as the owner of the company.”
“You called my workplace?!” Viktor snapped.
“So what? I have to know whether the person I’m leaving an apartment worth twenty million to is financially secure.”
Kristina shot to her feet.
“Twenty million?”
“Yes, that’s the current market value. But there’s a nuance. The apartment is pledged to the bank.”
“WHAT?!” Viktor and Kristina exclaimed in unison.
“I took out a loan secured by the apartment to grow the business. Fifteen million remains to be repaid. The monthly payment is three hundred thousand. But don’t worry—if you sign the asset division agreement, the debt gets divided too. Your share is only one hundred and fifty thousand a month.”
Kristina grabbed her handbag.
“This is insane! Viktor, you told me you had an apartment, a business, savings!”
“He really does have all that. Or rather—he did. As long as he was married to me. But since you’re starting a new family, you’ll have to begin from scratch.”
“NO!” Kristina screamed. “I didn’t sign up for this! The baby…”
She cut herself off.
“Speaking of the baby,” Margarita continued. “I got curious and did some checking. Kristina, you were at the gynecologist last week, weren’t you? My friend works at the same clinic. There’s no pregnancy.”
“That’s medical confidentiality!”
“I don’t know anything. I’m just assuming. But Viktor can request a certificate, since you claimed you’re pregnant.”
Kristina flushed, then went pale.
“You know what… to hell with BOTH of you! Viktor, you pathetic liar! And you,” she turned to Margarita, “you sly snake!”
She ran out of the apartment, slamming the door.
Viktor sat at the table with his head in his hands. Margarita calmly filed the documents back into the folder.
“Rita, let’s talk…”
“About what? About how you lied to me for six months? Or about how you pretended to be a successful businessman to your mistress?”
“I can explain everything…”
“No need. I understand perfectly. A midlife crisis, the desire to feel important, successful. You just chose the wrong method.”
She walked to the closet and pulled out a suitcase she had packed in advance.
“Here are your things. You can stay with your friend Dima for now. He’s already aware—I called him.”
“You’re throwing me out?”
“I’m giving you time to think. The apartment really is pledged—but not to a bank. I registered it as collateral for investments into the business through our family company. Meaning, in fact, we owe ourselves. But if we divorce, we’ll have to redo all the paperwork. And yes—you’ll get your half. After the debt is repaid.”
“But that’s absurd!”
“That’s business, Viktor. The very thing you dismissed, thinking my hobby was nonsense. By the way—do you know how much a franchise of my workshops costs? Five million. And I have a waiting list.”
Viktor lifted his head; greed flickered in his eyes.
“Rita… maybe we shouldn’t rush? We’ve been together so many years…”
“STOP. Don’t even start. You made your choice when you began seeing Kristina. When you lied to her about me and to me about business trips. When you let her come here and demand that I move out of my own apartment.”
“I didn’t know she would come!”
“But you told her about the apartment.”
Viktor lowered his head again.
“Here’s what I’ll tell you,” Margarita said, sitting down opposite him. “You have two options. First: we divorce and divide the property according to the prenuptial agreement. You get what you brought into the marriage—which, let me remind you, is only your salary for fifteen years, part of which is already spent. Second option: we divorce civilly, I don’t apply the infidelity clause, and you get a quarter of the apartment’s value after the investment loan is repaid. That’s about two million in three years.”
“Three years?!”
“Exactly how long is left until it’s paid off. Decide.”
Viktor stood up; anger twisted his face.
“You set it all up!”
“Me? Was it me who was seeing another woman for six months? Was it me who lied about my status and income? Was it me who brought a mistress to throw the lawful wife out of the house?”
“BUT YOU KNEW! You knew and kept silent!”
“I found out three days ago. From your Kristina. And in those three days I managed to protect what I’d been building for years. My business, my reputation, my dignity.”
Viktor grabbed the suitcase.
“You’ll regret this!”
“Maybe. But definitely not today.”
He headed for the door, then turned back.
“And if I tell everyone what you’re really like?”
“Like what? Successful? Smart? Please do. And while you’re at it, tell them how you lived off your wife for fifteen years, acting like you owned the world.”
The door slammed. Margarita walked to the window and watched Viktor load the suitcase into the car—the very car her parents had given them.
The phone rang. Elena’s name flashed on the screen.
“So—did it work?”
“Like clockwork. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. You did great not humiliating yourself or turning it into a screaming match. A clean victory.”
“You know, I really wasn’t lying. The business brings in good money. I just never advertised it.”
“And you were right not to. By the way, my brother asked if I could give him your number. He’s an entrepreneur too—I think you’ll have plenty to talk about.”
“Lena—no matchmaking!”
“What matchmaking? Just a business introduction. But Andrey really is a good guy. And most importantly—he built everything himself.”
Margarita smirked.
“Alright, go ahead. But I’m only promising business conversation.”
“Of course, of course,” her friend laughed.
After hanging up, Margarita looked around the apartment one more time. For fifteen years she’d created comfort here, poured her soul into every detail. And she had no intention of moving out.
The prenuptial agreement was still lying on the table. She picked up the document and reread the terms. Viktor had signed it without looking, trusting her. Back then it really had been a formality—young people didn’t think about possible betrayal. But life had taught Margarita to be prudent.
The phone rang again. An unfamiliar number.
“Hello?”
“Margarita? This is Andrey—Lena’s brother. She gave me your number.”
“Good evening.”
“Sorry for calling so late. Lena said you have a network of workshops? I’m actually looking for a space to rent for a new project. Could we meet and discuss it?”
“Tomorrow then? Would eleven work for you?”
“Perfect. Thank you. See you.”
Margarita smiled. Life went on. And something told her the most interesting part was only just beginning.
A month later Viktor was sitting in a rented one-bedroom apartment, scrolling through job listings. Stroyresurs had downsized, and he—the “business owner”—was among the first to be laid off. Kristina disappeared right after the scandal, blocking him everywhere.
On the table lay a letter from Margarita’s lawyer with a proposed divorce agreement. The terms were the same: a quarter of the apartment’s value in three years. Or nothing, if the infidelity clause was applied.
He picked up a pen and signed. There was no choice anyway.
Meanwhile, Margarita sat in a restaurant across from Andrey, discussing the details of a joint project.
