Nikita was trying his hardest to be someone he wasn’t. He knew that sooner or later, Yulia would find out the truth: he lived in the countryside, in difficult conditions, in a rundown apartment, and worked as a security guard. But he kept postponing the confession, continuing to play the role of a wealthy man.
“Yul, I won’t be able to go on vacation with you next week. My father has an important matter,” he lied when he found out that the girl was planning a vacation to expensive Sochi just because she was bored.
He had already drained himself dry: he took out a small loan to take her to restaurants, buy her flowers, and buy a modest ring—50,000 rubles, which to her seemed like a trifle, but to him was almost six months of work.
His friend Andrei often told him:
“Stop pretending. If she loves you, she will accept you for who you are. If not, then it’s not worth it.”
Nikita knew that his friend was right, but he was afraid of losing Yulia. How could he tell her that he was an orphan, living in a shabby apartment, working two days on, two days off, with no riches to speak of? Only his intelligence, determination, and the ability to not give up kept him afloat. But honesty was slipping away—it was becoming more and more overshadowed by the fear of losing the one he loved.
“Nikit, when will I finally meet your father? We’ve already exchanged rings—simple, yes, but it’s a step toward a family! I love you, and I don’t need any tests,” said Yulia.
Meanwhile, she too was hiding the truth from her parents—they didn’t know that her boyfriend wasn’t from a wealthy circle. Her father was obsessed with finding her a fiancé with capital. He had rejected one for weakness, another for poverty, and a third for blatant greed. None of them seemed real.
But Nikita seemed different. Not the greatest love, but he attracted her with his sincerity. Tall, brown-eyed, broad-shouldered—he was simple but smart, not arrogant, not rude. And most importantly—he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world. No other past fiancé had looked at her that way.
“Yul, I love you. But before meeting your parents, you need to know who I really am,” he finally decided. If she forgave the lie and didn’t judge him for his poverty, he would do anything for her. He would handle life on his own, without her money or connections.
The girl fixed a strand of blonde hair, squinted a little, and looked at the unremarkable house.
“Is this a joke? You know I don’t like areas like this. It’s dangerous here. If you’re trying to mock me, I might get upset. Stop testing me!”
They got out of the car. A neighbor, Aunt Olya, approached them:
“Nikitka, you found a girlfriend?! What a beauty! It’s about time you started your own family. You’ve always been kind and generous. Though it’s time to help someone else…”
Yulia wrinkled her nose. For the first time, she thought that Nikita might really be poor. She snorted but agreed to go inside—since she was there, though she wasn’t really interested.
Could it turn out that he was a strange millionaire, living simply so he wouldn’t forget his roots? Maybe there were mansions inside?
But instead of luxury, Yulia saw a neat but clearly poor apartment: worn furniture, old wallpaper, and a photo on the wall of a woman with a child in her arms.
“Who is this?” she asked.
“My mother. That’s what my grandmother told me before she sent me to the orphanage. I was six when they took me. There are no relatives left, no one to ask,” Nikita confessed and added, “But this is my own apartment, and my job is stable—even if it’s not the one you dreamed of. But I’m studying part-time. The main thing is, I want to marry you.”
Yulia suddenly burst out laughing—loudly, defiantly.
“So I spent my time on this poor self-taught guy? Do you think I don’t know you took the ring on credit? Thanks for not introducing me to your family—their impression would have been even worse!”
She threw the ring on the table, ordered a taxi, and left.
Nikita didn’t call. He hung the ring on a chain, keeping it close to his heart. He knew Yulia didn’t love him. But he… he loved her. And one-sided love still meant something. For three months, he waited for her to change her mind. “She’s not that bad, she’s just used to luxury,” he told himself. Maybe it wasn’t about the money?
He wrote her messages, but only received insults in return. Then he told himself, “Enough of humiliating myself. It’s time to change my life. If she wants success, I’ll achieve it.”
Yulia was the first who truly touched his heart. Yes, he understood he was acting foolishly, but he decided: if a person is worthy of a dream, it’s worth taking the risk and trying.
At first, he called Andrei and asked him to find him a job as a bodyguard for an influential person. Andrei didn’t refuse—they had served together. But he warned:
“There’s a guy—Igor Petrovich. Generous, but with a temper. He’ll shout at you for the slightest mistake, and all the others ran away. If you go, don’t complain later. And one more thing: you’ve got to look impeccable, in a suit, white shirt, and be able to speak on his level. The guy likes to chat.”
“I’ve got one suit. I bought it to go to the theater with Yulia,” Nikita sighed.
Andrei nodded: “So you’re ready. You start the day after tomorrow. If he likes you, you’ll stay.”
“Yulia, we need to talk seriously,” her father’s voice sounded tense. He would pressure her again to marry someone from her own circle. For her parents, money had to attract more money.
“What now?” she replied irritably. She thought her parents were too controlling and overly fixated on finances.
Her father and mother had started from the market, and now they owned a chain of clothing stores. Success in the ’90s had made them wealthy, but the fear of poverty never left them. They wanted security for their grandchildren. And where could they find such a father?
Yulia knew that the man next to her had to be compliant, patient with her tantrums. Nikita was completely different—and maybe that’s why she sometimes thought of him fondly. Kind, sincere, he believed in her… But without money, all of that didn’t matter. Her mother often said, “You can find a dozen guys like him at the market.”
A year passed after their breakup, and Yulia still felt something like regret. But now it didn’t matter.
“Daughter, we need to move. We’ve lost the business. Time to get used to a new life. It’s a pity you didn’t listen to us and didn’t marry the one we chose for you…”
Only now did Yulia begin to understand why her parents had changed—becoming more tired, less confident. They tried to hide the problem, but now it was all out in the open. The company had collapsed. They were left without their former status.
“Yul, don’t worry. I know a guy—Igor Petrovich. He’ll hire you even without experience. He’ll pay you well. And we won’t be on the street—we’ve got a three-room apartment on the outskirts. Our own roof, in other words.”
Yulia was silent. Maybe everything was just starting again. Maybe this was the beginning of her real life—not in luxury, but with someone who could support her. But one thing she knew for sure—Nikita was gone. And he wouldn’t return.
Only now, at 27, did Yulia realize she only knew one thing: how to wear makeup, go to expensive salons, gossip about others’ secrets, and have fun in clubs.
“First, you’ll be a secretary. You’re beautiful, so start here. And who knows, maybe you’ll climb higher. The salary’s not bad, trust me—others would thank you for this position,” her father explained.
Yulia realized: she was now part of the same gray stream of people rushing to work every morning, with no special choice. She tried to find another way—called her friends, but they seemed to have disappeared into thin air. It seemed everything changed quickly when you lost the status of “the daughter of wealthy parents.”
Meanwhile, Nikita had been working for Igor Petrovich for over a year. At first, he was pushed hard, but over time, Igor started to see something more in him than just a bodyguard.
“Alright, Nikitos. I think you can handle it. You’ll be my assistant for order protection. I trust you,” the boss said one day.
“But Igor Petrovich… I’m still studying, I don’t know much about economics…”
“Don’t worry, just be honest and don’t be lazy. Your brain is in order, so you’ll handle it. I’ve tested you by now. More than once.”
Nikita thought for a long time, but when he learned about the promotion, the new office, the decent salary, and even the driver, he decided to take the risk. Maybe now he could go back to Yulia? Maybe she had changed her mind?
On the first day, he hung a photo of his mother with a child in her arms in his new office—the mother he barely remembered. Maybe she’d be a little proud of him from the other side.
Igor Petrovich was on a business trip, only calling and giving instructions. That day he asked:
“Take on a girl for the secretary position. A friend asked. The main thing is she’s not totally illiterate.”
An hour later, there was a knock at the office door.
“Nikita Igorevich, you have a candidate,” said Kristina, temporarily acting as HR.
“Alright, let her in,” Nikita said, still not used to his new name and title.
The door opened. He didn’t immediately recognize her, but he understood from her eyes—it was Yulia. And she was beside herself.
“Did you all plan this? You pretended to be poor to test me? You’re all bastards!”
“Yul, what’s going on? What are you talking about?” Nikita was completely confused.
“Think I’m stupid? Well, here you go!” She ran out, slamming the door.
Nikita, confused, reported to his boss.
“I’ll handle it myself tomorrow,” Igor Petrovich replied briefly.
But he loved surprises. And that same evening, he showed up at the office like thunder out of a clear sky.
“And who’s this?” He pointed at the picture of the mother hanging in the office.
“My mom. That’s what my grandmother told me,” Nikita answered, trying not to dwell on the past.
But Igor Petrovich listened attentively. It was as if he knew the story.
“Did she love you?” he asked in the end.
“I don’t know… My grandmother never said anything. Just that my mom wanted me to survive.”
“I knew her. And I knew you,” the boss suddenly said. “We meant a lot to each other.”
He told how he had once been with another woman but left her for Dasha—Nikita’s mother. He had promised to marry her, but she died at the construction site where she worked.
“And your grandmother hated me after that. Took you and disappeared. I thought we’d never meet again.”
“She had a sick heart… She often said she wanted to do everything right. But she never spoke of you,” Nikita quietly replied.
“So, you’re Nikita Igorevich…” Petrovich mused. “Maybe she did love me after all?”
“Who knows… But we met. That means it wasn’t for nothing.”
“I’ll never go back there! That Nikita is so arrogant, he looked at me with contempt!” Yulia was complaining to her father again.
“He’s not my son, I don’t know him. And in any case, we’ve lost everything we had,” the man tried to explain.
“Oh no! I found out that Nikita is Igor Petrovich’s heir. This is your chance, silly! If he still loves you, you won’t have to work anymore. Just be smart and show him that you’re needed.”
Yulia’s mother was friends with the HR person who first heard the news. So now everything depended on the daughter.
“Maybe you’re right,” Yulia agreed thoughtfully.
She decided it was worth a try. If Nikita was still single and maybe remembered her, she needed to act. Show herself, evoke sympathy, hint at feelings. The main thing was to get married, and then see what would happen.
Yulia got a job at the same company and started working at the reception. Nikita went on business, and Igor Petrovich overwhelmed her with tasks, as if testing her endurance. She frowned in displeasure but pretended everything was fine. Tomorrow he was supposed to return.
After work, she stayed late—her mother called and asked about her relationship with Nikita.
“Mom, he’s not here yet,” Yulia answered. “Maybe it’s better to win over his father? Then access to the money will be direct.”
She said it more to irritate than seriously. But suddenly, Nikita appeared in the room. He had heard everything.
Yulia didn’t know that he had returned early and was standing behind the door. He heard every word. It felt cold inside him. He had waited so long to become worthy of her. And all this time, she had considered him a convenient option.
“Yul, do you want a ride?” he calmly offered when she finished the conversation.
“Of course, it’s nice that you’re here,” she played with her voice, full of fake tenderness.
“You left me. And you did the right thing. I don’t want to go back to what it was. I have someone I love. We’ll get married soon.”
“Really?” Yulia was surprised.
“Lena. From the sausage department,” he lied without blinking.
In reality, this woman was married, older, and treated him like a good acquaintance. But the idea seemed right—to show that love could be real, even if you were poor.
At that moment, Nikita realized: he was no longer afraid to be himself. He stopped pretending. He became himself—strong, confident, free.
And six months later, at an important business meeting, he saw Katya—energetic, decisive, sharp-minded, with warm eyes. He fell in love, not with her beauty, but with her character.