Vera sat by the window, absentmindedly watching the rare snowflakes lazily fall outside the glass. The room was filled with the scent of flowers—friends and acquaintances had brought armfuls of white roses, as if their sheer number could drown out her inner doubts. But the anxiety inside only grew stronger.
“You’re happy, right?” came a voice from behind the door.
Vera jumped but quickly tried to regain her composure.
“Of course, Marina. I’m just a bit tired.”
The door creaked open, and her younger sister, holding a glass of champagne, fluttered in. Her curls stuck out in every direction, and her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Tired? From what exactly? You’re not even married yet, and you’re already acting like a worn-out housewife,” she handed Vera the glass. “Try it. It’ll get you in the festive mood.”
Vera gave a faint smile but didn’t take the glass immediately.
“I don’t feel like it.”
Marina plopped down on the edge of the couch and frowned.
“Did something happen? Please don’t tell me this is just pre-wedding hysteria.”
“No, it’s not hysteria,” Vera fiddled with the stem of the glass. “It’s just… something’s bothering me. A strange feeling.”
Marina laughed, leaning back against the couch.
“Well, of course, sis! It’s totally normal! You’re getting married, you’re nervous—what if he snores or eats pizza with pineapple?”
Vera sighed heavily.
“It’s not about that. I can’t explain it… It’s just like I’m missing something important. Like some kind of sign.”
Marina rolled her eyes, finished her glass, and suddenly grinned slyly.
“You know what? The other day I was at the beauty salon, and they gave me a voucher for a fortune teller. Something like ‘entertainment for the curious.’” She pulled a small card from her pocket and placed it in front of Vera. “Here. Maybe this will cheer you up before the wedding. She might tell you that you were a queen in your past life.”
Vera glanced at the card. In golden letters, it read: Adelina. Mysteries of Fate.
She shrugged and took the card, turning it over thoughtfully in her hands.
“Why not…”
Marina filled her glass again, settled comfortably, and looked at her sister with curiosity.
“Okay, tell me. What’s this ‘bad feeling’ all about? And please don’t say he’s not the one.”
Vera set the glass on the table and laced her fingers together.
“I don’t know, Marina. It’s just… something feels off.”
“Clarify, please. ‘Something feels off’ is too vague.”
“I can’t explain it!” Vera threw up her hands. “It feels like there’s no reason to worry, but inside it’s all tightening up. Like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff and don’t know whether to jump.”
Marina tilted her head, looking closely at her sister.
“Do you hear what you’re saying? It’s normal. A wedding is a big step. Tomorrow your life will change. But… do you love him?”
Vera nodded, although the movement was uncertain.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know, Marina…”
Her younger sister sighed, shook her head, but then suddenly brightened.
“You know what? I have an idea!” She pulled the card out of her pocket.
Vera frowned.
“What’s that?”
“A voucher for the fortune teller.”
“Are you serious?”
Marina laughed and waved the card in front of her sister’s nose.
“Come on! It’s just for fun! They gave it to me at the salon after my manicure. They say she reads fate with tarot cards.”
“And you think I should go?”
Marina shrugged.
“Why not? If you really have doubts, the fortune teller will either dispel them or confirm them. Either way, it’ll be interesting.”
Vera looked at the card thoughtfully. In golden letters, it read: Adelina. Tarot. Fate. Truth.
“Alright,” she said, slipping the card into her pocket. “I’ll try it for curiosity’s sake.”
“That’s great!” Marina clinked her glass with the air. “Have fun before the wedding.”
But the unsettling feeling inside Vera did not go away.
She walked down a narrow alley, checking the address on her phone. The place seemed strange—an old house with peeling plaster and a massive door, adorned with a heavy metal ring instead of a doorbell.
Vera hesitated. Everything around her seemed too deliberately set up, like a movie set. But she was already there…
She pulled on the ring. Footsteps could be heard from behind the door.
The door slowly opened, and a short woman in a long black cloak appeared in the doorway. Her thick hair was tied up in a bun, and her gaze radiated focus and mystery.
“Vera,” the woman said softly, as if she had been waiting for her.
How does she know my name? Vera almost asked out loud, but then remembered: Marina must have made the appointment in advance.
“Yes, that’s me…” she began.
“Come in,” the woman interrupted, stepping back into the apartment.
Inside, it smelled of wax and herbs. Vera looked around. The room was filled with shelves of books, a deck of cards lay on the table, and candles flickered in the corners, casting a dim light.
“Sit down,” Adelina motioned to a large carved chair at the table.
Vera sat down, folding her hands in her lap.
“To be honest, I don’t really believe in all of this,” she said, feeling a bit awkward.
Adelina smiled.
“It doesn’t matter. The truth exists whether you believe in it or not.”
She took the deck of cards, and without shuffling, drew one. She placed it in front of Vera.
“Let’s see what troubles your soul.”
Adelina began laying the cards on the table. Her slender fingers trembled slightly as she turned them one by one. Vera watched the process with mild irritation—this mystical atmosphere felt like a theatrical performance.
“So, what do you see?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
The fortune teller didn’t answer immediately. She ran her palm over the cards, as if listening to something invisible. Then her face tightened.
“It’s… strange,” she muttered.
“What’s strange?”
Adelina looked up at her, her eyes flashing with concern.
“You shouldn’t marry him.”
Vera thought she must have misheard.
“Excuse me, what?”
“Don’t marry him,” Adelina repeated firmly.
The room suddenly felt uncomfortable. The flames of the candles flickered, as if a draft had passed through, even though the windows were tightly closed.
“Is this… a joke?” Vera tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow.
Adelina shook her head.
“It’s a warning. Check your fiancé’s apartment.”
Vera froze.
“What do you mean ‘check’?”
“There’s something there that you’re not meant to see. But you must know.”
Her throat went dry.
“This is going too far…”
Suddenly, Adelina grabbed her hand.
“You had doubts before the wedding. Now you know why.”
Vera wanted to pull her hand away, stand up, and leave, but something in the fortune teller’s voice kept her in place. She looked at the woman, waiting for an explanation, but Adelina only shook her head.
“Believe it or not, but it’s better to know the truth before it’s too late.”
“You… you’re joking?” Vera yanked her hand away and stood up, the chair scraping the floor.
Adelina remained motionless. She stared directly at Vera with unsettling confidence.
“I never joke,” the fortune teller whispered.
Vera swallowed. Her heart raced. Everything felt absurd, ridiculous—even laughable.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but…” she nervously ran her hands over her dress, “I’m not going to cancel the wedding over some cards.”
Adelina smoothly rose, like a shadow, and walked around the table.
“There’s something in your fiancé’s house that you should see.”
Vera clenched her fists.
“Why should I go there?”
“Because otherwise, you’ll find out the truth too late.”
“What’s there?”
Adelina paused. Her eyes grew even darker.
“This isn’t my answer, Vera. This is your destiny.”
Her throat went dry. Vera wanted to leave, but something held her in place.
“I don’t believe in this.”
“Then check it and see for yourself.”
Silence pressed in on her. The candles crackled.
“If you go there, your life will change,” Adelina added. “If you don’t… it may not end the way you expect.”
Vera felt a chill.
“Are you trying to scare me?”
The fortune teller slowly shook her head.
“I’m giving you a choice.”
Vera relaxed her fingers and looked down at the cards. The last one was The Moon—the card of deception, secrets, and wavering light.
She turned and walked out of the room, feeling Adelina’s gaze on her until she reached the door.
Just as she was about to leave, Vera abruptly turned around.
“Enough. I don’t want to hear any more.”
Adelina didn’t stop her. She stood calmly by the table, arms crossed, watching her with an expression that was both understanding and insistent.
— You’re scared.
Vera froze by the door, not turning around.
— I’m not scared. I just don’t believe in all of this.
— Then why are you in such a hurry to leave?
Vera clenched her teeth. The question seemed reasonable.
— Because I’m not going to change my life because of some cards, she replied, turning toward the fortune-teller.
Adelina tilted her head, studying her carefully.
— Not because of the cards, Vera. Because of the truth.
These words pierced through her.
— I know that you’ve already had doubts, the fortune-teller continued. — You feel that something is wrong. This isn’t pre-wedding jitters. This is a warning.
Vera clenched her fists.
— I love Igor.
— Love doesn’t save you from deception.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing.
— You don’t even know him.
— But I know what’s hidden in his house.
Vera opened her eyes sharply.
— What do you mean?
Adelina stepped forward.
— You must find out the truth yourself.
The silence in the room became almost tangible. It felt as though the candles were burning brighter, the room closing in, and the air growing heavier.
— Check Igor’s apartment, Vera. Do it before the wedding.
She pressed her palms to her temples, as though trying to chase away the intrusive thoughts.
— And what if I go… and find nothing?
— Then get married and forget this conversation, the fortune-teller replied calmly.
Vera swallowed.
— And if I find something?
Adelina looked at her with sad certainty.
— Then you will be grateful to yourself for this visit.
Vera nervously stirred the spoon in her cup, mixing the cold tea. She sat across from her sister, who was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through social media on her phone.
— So, what did your fortune-teller say? asked Marina, not looking up from the screen.
Vera sighed.
— She said that I shouldn’t get married.
Marina snorted.
— Oh, what an unexpected revelation. Let me guess, then she offered you another session for double the price?
— No, Vera replied quietly. — She said to check Igor’s apartment.
Marina finally looked up from her phone and raised her eyebrows in surprise.
— What for? To find skeletons in the closet?
— I don’t know… but she was sure that something is hidden there.
— Of course! Marina laughed and slapped her knee. — Without that, it’s impossible. The fortune-teller has to scare you so that the client comes back.
Vera clenched her palms.
— She was very serious.
— They all are, sis. It’s their job.
— But…
— Listen, you’ve just fallen for a classic trick. First, she drew out your doubts, understood that you were worried, and then dropped an idea that will now torment you. Now you’ll either run back to her for ‘answers’ or start snooping around Igor’s apartment.
— What if she’s right?
Marina rolled her eyes.
— Vera, you’re marrying a normal, loving man, not a spy or a maniac.
— But why do I have this feeling?
Marina sighed and leaned forward.
— Because you’re nervous. Forget about the fortune-teller, get some sleep, you’re getting married tomorrow.
But Vera couldn’t just forget. She remembered how Adelina’s voice trembled when she said, “You must find out the truth.”
And with every minute, the desire to verify the fortune-teller’s words grew stronger.
Vera sat across from Marina, but she could barely hear her chatter anymore. Moments that once seemed insignificant now formed a disturbing picture in her mind.
In the past few weeks, Igor had changed.
At first, she attributed it to stress before the wedding, but now she understood—it was something else. He had become absent-minded, occasionally irritable, and had canceled meetings at the last minute several times.
— Sorry, I’m busy, he’d said, turning away when she tried to look him in the eye.
And recently, she noticed how he quickly put his phone in his pocket after a call. He usually didn’t hide anything, but then…
— Who were you talking to?
— Oh, nothing important, he smiled.
But the smile seemed forced.
Then there was the time when she arrived early and found the door locked from the inside.
— Wait a minute! he yelled from behind the door.
She heard some noise—like he was hiding something.
When he opened the door, his shirt was unbuttoned, and his face showed concern.
— Everything okay? she asked.
— Of course, I just… didn’t expect you so early.
At that moment, she didn’t pay much attention to it.
But now, after the words of the fortune-teller, it no longer seemed like a coincidence.
Meanwhile, Marina kept talking about dresses, but Vera no longer listened.
She had made up her mind.
— I will check his apartment, she suddenly said, cutting her sister off.
Marina blinked in surprise.
— You’re not kidding?
— No.
— Oh my God… Marina leaned back on the couch. — Don’t tell me you’ve bought into this nonsense.
— I haven’t bought into anything, Vera said firmly. — I just want to make sure everything’s fine.
Marina looked at her doubtfully, shook her head, and sighed heavily.
— Well, do what you want.
But even her skepticism couldn’t stop Vera now.
Vera stood still in front of Igor’s apartment door, clutching the spare key in her hand.
She took a deep breath. This was madness. Pure paranoia. But the anxiety inside her kept growing, like a tight spring, and she couldn’t ignore it any longer.
The key turned in the lock with a click. The door creaked open.
Silence.
She stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind her.
The apartment looked as it always did: neat, cozy, filled with his familiar scent.
Why am I doing this?
But her feet carried her toward the closet in the hallway.
She opened the doors—coats, jackets, raincoats—and suddenly her gaze caught something foreign. A woman’s coat. Not hers.
She ran her hand over it. A black leather jacket, clearly worn.
Her heart raced.
She peeked inside the pocket—there was a coffee shop receipt. The date—just two days ago.
Someone had been here recently.
Carefully hanging the coat back, she drew in a deeper breath. Calm. So far, it doesn’t mean anything.
But now her attention shifted to the main thing.
Igor’s laptop started up easily—no password. She opened the browser and checked the emails.
Almost everything seemed normal: standard work correspondence.
But when she opened the folder with files, her eyes caught on encrypted documents.
And a message popped up on the messenger from the contact “L”:
“She must not find out anything.”
Vera felt her fingers grow cold.
Who is “L”? What exactly must I not find out?
Suddenly, footsteps could be heard in the hallway. She barely managed to close the laptop.
Someone was coming up the stairs…
Vera froze, listening to the sounds outside the door. Her heart pounded so loudly it seemed to echo through the walls.
I have to leave.
But something, like an inner voice, held her back.
She noticed the closet door.
Quickly slipping inside, she turned on the flashlight on her phone.
There were boxes on the top shelf. Ordinary, unremarkable. But one was slightly open, and the corner of some paper stuck out from under the lid.
Vera reached up, carefully pulled it out, and set it on the floor.
Inside were letters. A lot of them. All sealed.
She took one and looked at the envelope. There was no recipient.
But further…
Under the letters lay a stack of photographs.
The first—she froze.
In the picture, it was her.
Vera stood at the bus stop, looking at her phone.
The next shot—she was at the entrance to her apartment.
Another—on a walk with Marina.
The photos had been taken from a distance, as if someone had been following her from a car or from around the corner of the house.
A chill ran down her spine.
Who was doing this?
The footsteps in the hallway grew louder. Someone stopped right behind the door.
Vera frantically closed the box, shoved the photos in her pocket, and huddled into the corner of the closet.
The doorknob in the apartment trembled.
Someone started unlocking the door.
Click—and Vera held her breath.
The door slowly creaked open.
A man appeared in the doorway. Tall, athletic, in a dark coat. He walked confidently, as if he were at home.
Vera stood frozen in the closet, trying not to move.
The stranger closed the door behind him and looked around. Then he walked to the table, threw his keys down, and pulled out his phone.
— I’m here, he said into the phone. — Yeah, everything’s calm.
Vera felt like her heart stopped.
He walked past the closet.
And then she recognized him.
Artem.
Igor’s colleague. They had met a couple of times at parties, exchanged a few words. Igor had said they were working on some project together.
What was he doing here?
Artem suddenly froze. Then slowly turned his head toward the closet.
He felt something.
Vera pressed herself into the corner.
The footsteps grew closer.
The closet handle trembled.
The door burst open.
Their eyes met.
Artem didn’t look surprised. He stared at her calmly, without a single emotion.
— You weren’t supposed to see this, he said in a flat voice.
Vera pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding like crazy. Artem didn’t move—he just stood there, studying her as if deciding what to do next.
— What are you doing here? her voice trembled, but she tried to keep her composure.
Artem didn’t answer immediately. Slowly, he took out his phone and turned the screen toward her.
— You better take a look yourself, he said.
On the screen was a conversation.
Igor: She doesn’t suspect anything. Everything’s going according to plan.
L: Are you sure? What if her family starts asking questions?
Igor: Don’t worry. After the wedding, I’ll take care of it. The main thing is she doesn’t suspect anything for now.
Vera froze.
— What… what does this mean?
Artem put the phone away.
— It means your fiancé is playing you, Vera. He’s living a double life.
She shook her head.
— No. This is some kind of mistake.
— No mistakes, Artem said calmly. — You’ve noticed how he’s been acting strange? Disappearing, lying to you?
Vera wanted to argue, but… he was right.
— Is he cheating on me?
Artem smirked.
— If only that.
She froze.
— What do you mean?
Artem pulled a flash drive from his inner pocket and twirled it in his fingers.
— It’s all here. Documents, messages, schemes. Your fiancé isn’t just lying to you. He was planning to use you in his schemes.
— What schemes?
— Financial schemes. Shell companies, money laundering, fake investors… You need to understand, he didn’t choose you by chance.
Vera gasped.
— This… this is nonsense.
Artem turned on the phone again and showed another message from Igor.
Igor: After the wedding, we’ll put everything in her name. Let her be the cover.
Vera felt her head spin.
— He wanted me to…
— Be his cover, Artem finished.
She suddenly realized that her hands were shaking.
— Why are you telling me this?
Artem paused, then sighed heavily.
— Because you shouldn’t get involved in this. And because you still have a chance to leave.
Vera took a step back, toward the exit of the closet.
— I… I need to think. Her voice was steady, but inside, a storm raged.
Artem kept watching her, as if analyzing her thoughts.
— Of course, he nodded. — But you understand, it’s better not to get involved, right?
Vera swallowed.
— Yes.
— You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?
He took a step closer. Now there were only a few centimeters between them.
She tensed.
— No, of course not, she forced a smile. — It’s your… their business. I just want to leave.
Artem studied her carefully.
— Smart girl.
Vera nodded, trying to appear calm.
— Then forget about this. Just go get married tomorrow, like nothing happened.
She nodded again.
— Yes… that’s exactly what I’ll do.
He stepped aside, allowing her to pass.
Vera slowly made her way to the exit, feeling cold sweat trickling down her back.
She grabbed the doorknob.
Once…
— Good luck, Vera, he said behind her.
Twice…
She took a deep breath.
Three!
She yanked the door open and bolted into the hallway, not looking back.
Behind her, there was a shout:
— Vera!
But she was already flying down the stairs, skipping steps.
She had to make it…
Vera burst into the bar, her heart still pounding after her escape. It was loud inside—laughter, music, clinking glasses. In the corner, lounging in a leather chair, sat Igor. Next to him were colleagues, unfamiliar girls, whiskey bottles on the table.
She didn’t hesitate for a second. She walked up to him and sharply knocked his glass off the table.
— We need to talk.
Igor slowly lifted his gaze.
— Well, well, didn’t expect to see you. A bit early for surprises, don’t you think?
— Get up.
He squinted, but still got up, gesturing for his friends that he’d be back soon.
They stepped into the narrow hallway by the bathrooms.
— What’s going on, Vera? he asked with a smile, as if nothing unusual was happening.
She took out her phone, opened the conversation with “L,” and shoved the screen in his face.
— What is this?
Igor glanced at the text and then… laughed.
— Oh come on, is someone talking trash about me? Artem, probably?
She didn’t look away.
— Is this true?
He thoughtfully tilted his head, as though deciding whether to keep up the act.
— What if it is? his voice remained calm.
Vera felt like everything inside her squeezed tight.
— So, you really used me? Lied to me from the start?
Igor suddenly stopped smiling.
— Oh, Vera… he shook his head. — You’re too trusting. That’s your main problem.
— You were going to set up a fake company in my name?
— It would have been more convenient, he shrugged. — Who would suspect that the fiancée knew nothing?
Vera took a step back as if his words could hurt her.
— You’re a disgusting person.
He just smirked.
— So what now? You’re going to run to the police?
Vera said nothing.
Igor sighed, leaned closer, and whispered:
— You know no one will believe you, right?
Vera stared at him, and suddenly, a strange clarity took over. There was no more fear, no more doubts, no more trying to find excuses. Just cold, merciless truth.
— It’s over, she said firmly.
Igor frowned but quickly replaced his irritation with a condescending smile.
— Vera, don’t be foolish. You’re angry now, but later, you’ll understand you’re making a mistake.
She shook her head.
— No, Igor. You didn’t understand. I’m leaving.
He narrowed his eyes.
— Go wherever you want. But know this: you’ll regret it.
Vera bitterly smiled.
— The only thing I regret is not exposing your lies earlier.
She turned and walked out of the bar, leaving him behind.
Marina was waiting for her in the car. Seeing the expression on her sister’s face, she immediately understood.
— You broke up with him?
Vera nodded as she got in the car.
Marina handed her a bottle of water.
— Well, that’s great! Vera, you saved yourself at the last moment.
She wanted to say something, but suddenly felt… relief.
Now she no longer had to live in fear, in lies, being a puppet in someone else’s games.
She looked out the window. The world kept flowing in its usual course.
And her life… was just beginning anew.
With her head held high, Vera took the first confident step into her new future.