Valentina froze by the slightly open balcony door, listening to her husband’s phone conversation. The hot July air barely stirred the light curtains, and Dmitry’s voice came clearly and carelessly from the kitchen.
“Just one signature left — and the apartment is out!” her husband giggled into the phone. “Can you imagine, Svetka, how easy it all is?”
Valentina felt her breath catch. What apartment was Dmitry talking about? And who was Svetka?
“No, she’s a complete fool,” her husband continued. “She’ll sign anything I ask. The main thing is to present it correctly. Like, for tax benefits, for optimization…”
Valentina leaned against the wall, feeling her skin grow cold despite the summer heat. The three-room apartment in the city center had been inherited from her grandmother three years ago, before the marriage. Six months ago, Dmitry persuaded his wife to give him a power of attorney to manage the property. He said it would be easier to handle household matters if Valentina was at work or on a business trip. At the time, it seemed reasonable — trust between spouses should be complete.
“Listen, what if she wakes up to it?” the husband asked, apparently responding to the other person’s remark.
“It’ll be too late by then!” Dmitry laughed. “By that time, the apartment will already be sold. And we’ll start a new life with that money.”
Valentina closed her eyes, trying to process what she had heard. Dmitry was planning to deceive his own wife, lure her into signing some documents, sell the apartment, and then run away with his mistress.
“Don’t worry so much,” her husband soothed his lover. “Valya’s dumb, she won’t understand a thing. I’ll say it’s for re-registration, and she’ll sign. She trusts me completely.”
She did trust him. Three years ago, Valentina truly trusted Dmitry without limits. He seemed reliable, decent. He worked in a construction company, earned well, was attentive and caring. Or was skillfully pretending to be.
“No, the documents are almost ready,” Dmitry said. “Tomorrow I’ll bring them home, say they need to be signed urgently. Valya won’t even read them — she trusts me.”
Valentina quietly went to the bedroom, careful not to reveal her presence. Her heart was pounding so loudly it seemed her husband could hear it even from the kitchen. She needed time to think and decide.
“Alright, Svetik, see you tomorrow,” Dmitry ended the call. “Pack your bags. Soon we’ll be free and rich.”
Valentina heard her husband go to the bathroom. She quickly lay down on the bed, pretending to doze off. A few minutes later, Dmitry peeked into the bedroom.
“Val, are you sleeping?” he asked softly.
Valentina mumbled something unintelligible without opening her eyes. Dmitry nodded contentedly and went to the living room to turn on the TV.
Valentina didn’t sleep all night, thinking over what she had heard. The picture was grim. Her husband had taken a mistress, planned to sell the apartment and run away. And to him, his wife was just an obstacle to deceive.
In the morning, Dmitry was overly affectionate. He made breakfast, kissed his wife on the cheek, asked about her plans for the day.
“Valyush, I have a complicated paperwork day today,” he said, finishing his coffee. “Maybe I’ll bring something home for you to sign. The tax office requires re-registration of all deals.”
“What re-registration?” Valentina asked cautiously.
“Just a formality,” Dmitry waved it off. “New requirements introduced. All property owners have to update their papers.”
Valentina nodded, pretending to believe him. But in her mind, she noted: the deceit had begun. Dmitry was preparing the ground for his plan.
At work, Valentina found it hard to concentrate. Her thoughts kept returning to yesterday’s conversation. How long had her husband been having an affair? When did he get a mistress? And most importantly — how long had this deception been planned?
In the evening, Dmitry came home with a folder of documents. His face showed business concern, but his eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“Val, these papers need to be signed,” Dmitry said, spreading the sheets on the table. “They’re urgent. By tomorrow.”
Valentina approached the table, carefully examining the documents. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and the stamps blurry. It was obvious — a forgery.
“What organization is this?” Valentina asked, pointing to the form.
“The tax inspection,” Dmitry answered without blinking. “They created a new department for working with real estate.”
Valentina took one of the sheets, pretending to read it carefully. In reality, she was just buying time, thinking over her next steps.
“Dim, why so urgent?” the wife asked. “Usually, they give time to study documents.”
“There’s a reform going on,” Dmitry explained. “Those who don’t manage by the end of the month will pay fines.”
Valentina put the papers aside.
“Know what, I’ll sign tomorrow morning,” she suggested. “I want to read carefully. What if I miss something important?”
Dmitry’s face darkened slightly.
“Val, there’s nothing to read. It’s standard procedure. The sooner you sign, the sooner they’ll leave you alone.”
“I still want to understand,” Valentina insisted. “It’s my apartment, after all.”
“Our apartment,” the husband corrected. “We’re family.”
Family. Valentina barely restrained a bitter smile. What family, if her husband planned to rob her and run away with a mistress?
“Fine,” Dmitry agreed after a pause. “But sign it tomorrow morning, definitely. Time’s running out.”
All night Valentina studied the documents. She had no legal education, but some points seemed suspicious. Strange wording, unusual requirements, dubious stamps.
In the morning, while Dmitry was in the shower, Valentina photographed the documents with her phone and sent them to her friend Oksana. Oksana worked in a law firm and could advise her.
“Val, have you signed yet?” Dmitry asked, coming out of the bathroom.
“Not yet,” Valentina replied. “I want to call the tax office first, clarify some details.”
Dmitry froze with a towel in his hands.
“Why call? It’s all clearly written.”
“For my own peace of mind,” Valentina explained. “The documents are serious, they concern real estate. Better to be safe.”
“But they’re urgent!” her husband objected. “Today’s the last day!”
“Then I’ll go to the tax office myself,” Valentina offered. “I’ll sign there, in front of an employee.”
Dmitry’s face turned pale.
“Val, don’t complicate things. Sign at home, I’ll take the documents myself.”
“Why don’t you want me to go to the tax office?” Valentina asked directly.
“It’s not that,” Dmitry stammered. “There’s no time to wait in line.”
At that moment, Valentina’s phone rang. It was Oksana.
“Val,” her friend’s worried voice sounded loud, “those documents are fake! No tax office uses such forms!”
Valentina looked at her husband. Dmitry turned even paler, realizing the deception was uncovered.
“What did she say?” he asked, trying to stay calm.
“She says the documents are fake,” Valentina answered calmly.
Dmitry tried to feign surprise.
“Can’t be! They gave them to me at the office, said they were from the tax office.”
“What office?” Valentina inquired. “Your construction company?”
“Well… not exactly…” Dmitry hesitated. “A friend gave them to me, he has connections.”
Valentina put down the phone and looked at her husband closely.
“Dim, let’s be honest. What are these documents?”
“I told you, they’re from the tax office!” the husband began to protest.
“Don’t lie,” Valentina interrupted. “I heard your phone conversation yesterday.”
Dmitry froze, realizing his wife knew the truth. For several seconds, they looked at each other silently.
“What exactly did you hear?” he asked quietly.
“Everything,” Valentina replied shortly. “About Svetka, about selling the apartment, that I’m a fool and will sign anything you ask.”
Dmitry sank into a chair, knowing the game was over.
“Val, it’s not what you think…”
“It’s exactly what I think,” the wife interrupted. “You wanted to cheat me, sell my apartment, and run away with your mistress.”
“I can explain everything…”
“Go ahead,” Valentina said, crossing her arms.
Dmitry was silent, apparently trying to invent a believable story. But the facts spoke for themselves.
“So, nothing to explain,” Valentina stated. “Then I’ll act on my own.”
The husband raised his head, anxiety flashing in his eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“Protect my property,” Valentina answered, gathering the fake documents into a stack. “If you decided to rob me, then there’s no trust between us anymore.”
“Val, let’s discuss everything calmly…”
“It’s too late for discussion,” the wife interrupted. “You already decided everything for me. Now it’s my turn to decide.”
Valentina took her phone and dialed the Multifunctional Center (MFC). Dmitry silently watched as his wife made an appointment with a real estate specialist for the nearest time.
“I made an appointment for tomorrow,” Valentina reported, ending the call. “I’ll block any changes to the apartment documents without my personal presence.”
“Why such extremes?” the husband tried to object.
“Extremes are planning to steal your wife’s apartment,” Valentina answered. “I’m just protecting my property.”
Dmitry stood and approached his wife.
“Val, I understand you’re upset…”
“Upset?” Valentina repeated, moving away from him. “I found out I’ve been living with a crook for three years. It’s not upset, it’s shock.”
“But we can fix everything!”
“What exactly fix?” the wife asked. “Your mistress or the plan to steal my apartment?”
Dmitry froze, realizing the hopelessness of the situation.
The next day Valentina took a day off work and went to the MFC. The employee listened carefully and explained possible protection options.
“Can we revoke the power of attorney on the property?” Valentina asked right away.
“Of course,” the employee replied. “It’s your right as the owner. Revoking the power of attorney strips the agent of all authority over your property.”
“Please do it urgently,” Valentina requested. “As soon as possible.”
“I also recommend notifying the notary who issued the power of attorney,” the employee added. “Then the revocation information will be entered into the common database.”
“I have inheritance documents,” Valentina confirmed. “The apartment is entirely mine, and I foolishly gave the power of attorney.”
“Understood. After revocation, your property will be fully protected.”
From the MFC, Valentina went to a lawyer. The elderly woman with many years of family law experience studied the situation carefully.
“Your husband wanted to use the power of attorney to sell your apartment,” Antonina Petrovna concluded. “Good thing you found out in time and revoked it.”
“What should I do next?” Valentina asked.
“Gather documents proving your case,” the lawyer advised. “And prepare for a divorce. After such betrayal, trust cannot be restored.”
Valentina nodded. The decision had matured yesterday, but she wanted a professional opinion.
“Are proofs of fraud necessary?” the client inquired.
“Preferable,” Antonina Petrovna answered. “But even without them, your position is strong. The apartment is yours by inheritance, power of attorney revoked. Your husband has no rights to the property.”
Valentina returned home in the evening. Dmitry greeted his wife with a guilty look.
“So, how was the trip?” the husband asked cautiously.
“I went,” Valentina confirmed. “Both to the MFC and the lawyer.”
“And what did they say?”
“That my rights are protected and your plans failed,” the wife answered briefly.
Dmitry sank onto the couch, realizing the seriousness of the situation.
“Val, maybe not all is lost? We can try to save the family…”
“What family?” Valentina wondered. “You were going to run away with Svetka using my money.”
“That’s all nonsense,” the husband waved his hands. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“And where did the fake documents come from?”
Dmitry was silent, not knowing what to say.
“Listen,” Valentina continued, “I don’t want to discuss your affair details or play the victim. We’ll just divorce civilly.”
“But the apartment…”
“My apartment,” the wife reminded. “Inherited before marriage. And I already revoked the power of attorney. You have no rights to my property anymore.”
“And where will I live?” Dmitry asked, confused.
“Not my problem,” Valentina replied. “Maybe Svetka will take you in.”
The next week, Valentina filed for divorce. Dmitry did not object, realizing the futility of disputes. There was nothing to divide — the apartment belonged to the wife by inheritance, the power of attorney was revoked, and the couple had no joint savings.
“You can stay here until the divorce is finalized,” Valentina offered. “But with conditions.”
“What conditions?” the husband asked warily.
“No meetings with your mistress in my apartment. No attempts to sign or re-register anything.”
Dmitry agreed but stayed only a week. The atmosphere in the house became unbearable — the spouses barely spoke, avoided each other, lived like strangers.
“I’ll rent a room,” the husband announced one morning. “It’ll be better for everyone.”
“Probably,” Valentina agreed.
Dmitry packed and left, leaving the apartment keys to his wife. Valentina saw him off without regret. Three years of marriage had been a deception, but the main thing was she had learned the truth in time.
Immediately after Dmitry’s departure, Valentina called a locksmith and changed the locks. Then she changed all passwords for her bank, email, and social networks. Security was paramount.
The divorce was finalized in a month. Dmitry didn’t even come to the registry office, sending a power of attorney. Valentina received the divorce certificate and felt relief.
That evening, Oksana called.
“So, are you free?” her friend asked.
“Free,” Valentina confirmed. “And very glad about it.”
“Not sad?”
“No,” Valentina answered honestly. “It would be sad if he sold the apartment and ran away. But I only gained — got rid of a crook.”
“Smart girl!” Oksana praised. “Few act so wisely in such situations.”
“Just lucky to find out in time,” Valentina noted. “One or two more days, and I would have signed those fake documents.”
“Was it intuition?”
“Not intuition, just coincidence,” Valentina laughed. “I just overheard his phone call with his mistress one summer evening.”
Six months later, Valentina learned from mutual acquaintances that Dmitry never married Svetka. The girl left him after finding out there would be no money from the apartment sale — the plan failed. The man remained alone, in a rented room, without family and prospects.
Meanwhile, Valentina renovated her three-room apartment. She changed furniture, bought new things, arranged her life to her own taste. Without regard to others’ plans and opinions.
Sometimes she remembered that conversation she accidentally overheard on a summer evening. If not for that coincidence, life could have turned out very differently. But fate protected her from betrayal, giving her the chance to make the right decision in time.