Everything was ready at the house. Two cribs in my old room, mountains of clothes, a bottle sterilizer. My mother had passed away five years ago, and my father lived alone. But now the house was alive again.
In the evening, after the girls fell asleep, Dad called me into his study. A stranger in a strict suit was sitting there—Viktor Semenovich, my father’s lawyer.
“Ksyusha, have a seat,” my father nodded towards the armchair. “We need to talk.”
I sat down, sensing trouble. Viktor Semenovich opened a folder and looked at me over his glasses.
“Ksenia Leonidovna, your father asked me to check the financial status of your husband, Vadim Igorevich Popov. The picture, let’s say, is grim. Over the last six months, several large consumer loans have been taken out in his name. The total amount is almost five million.”
I was numb.
“Five million? For what? We lived modestly, saving for the children. We didn’t make any large purchases!”
“The purchases were made by a citizen named Yana Titova,” the lawyer explained quietly. “A business-class car, financed by a loan in your husband’s name, several trips to expensive hotels, designer clothes, jewelry. All of this was paid for with credit cards, also issued to Vadim Igorevich.”
The puzzle came together. His business trips, staying late at work, the constant “financial difficulties” he was supposedly solving. He was lying to me. Lying while spending our money and our future on his mistress.
“So what now?” I asked, feeling empty.
“And now for the interesting part,” my father interjected. His voice was firm. “The apartment you lived in belongs to me, Ksyusha. I bought it before your wedding and registered it in my name, just in case. Vadim doesn’t know about this. He’s sure it was your wedding gift.”
I looked at him, starting to understand…
Comments are closed.