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“You’re too stupid to understand art!” my husband’s sister laughed, having no idea that I was the secret owner of the very gallery where she worked

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No, Oleg, just listen to this!” Marina’s voice—my husband’s sister—rang through the entire kitchen, drowning out the sound of the television. “She says the new installer has ‘pure chaos in his head.’ Chaos! Alina, darling, that’s called deconstructivism.” I silently stirred the salad, feeling her heavy, appraising gaze on me. Oleg, my husband, coughed awkwardly. … Read more

If your mother is moving in with us and renting out her apartment, then how about I invite my mother here too, so we can have the ‘full package’ of happiness?”

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“Mom is moving in tomorrow,” Kirill said, eagerly putting a piece of roasted chicken into his mouth. He said it as casually as if reporting tomorrow’s weather forecast. There was not a hint of doubt or question in his voice, only the statement of a fact wrapped in the smug complacency of someone who had … Read more

— It’s your dacha, so you should be the one to treat us!” — the relatives came to celebrate their birthday at my place empty-handed.

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Marina stood by the window of her country house, watching the morning sun gild the apple trees in the garden. Six months ago, she could never have imagined waking up to birdsong instead of the city’s noise. The divorce had been difficult, but it brought unexpected freedom. After selling the apartment and dividing the property, … Read more

— Marina, open the safe immediately! — the mother-in-law burst in, waving documents about contesting the will’s validity.

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— Marina, open the safe immediately! — the mother-in-law stood in the doorway of the study, clutching some documents in her hands. Marina Sergeyevna froze with her morning tea cup in hand. She had just been peacefully having breakfast in the kitchen when suddenly Tamara Ivanovna — the mother-in-law who hadn’t shown up for half … Read more

On the plane, Ethan Cross, a self-made billionaire in his late thirties, spotted a familiar figure just a few rows away—his former lover. She was not alone. Twin boys, unmistakably his own image, accompanied her.

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Ethan Cross, a self-made billionaire in his late thirties, rarely flew commercial. But today was different. A sudden mechanical issue had grounded his private jet, and unwilling to miss his keynote speech at a global tech summit in Zurich, Ethan reluctantly accepted a first-class seat on a commercial flight. He didn’t mind the luxury—the champagne, … Read more

Ethan Carrington was a man who thrived on control—control over markets, high-stakes negotiations, and above all, his meticulously crafted life.

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Ethan Carrington was a man accustomed to control—control over markets, negotiations, and above all, the meticulously crafted life he led. As the CEO of a San Francisco-based tech giant, he dominated boardrooms and made headlines. Yet, despite his towering success, one part of his life remained unresolved: his brief marriage to Isabel. They tied the … Read more

When will you be gone already?” — whispered my daughter-in-law by my hospital bed, not knowing I could hear everything and the recorder was still running.

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“When will you be gone?” whispered my daughter-in-law. Her breath was warm and smelled of cheap coffee. She thought I was unconscious, just a body stuffed with medicines. But I was not asleep. I lay under a thin, hospital-issue blanket, and every nerve in my body had turned into a taut string. Under my palm, … Read more

After their father’s funeral, the children returned to his three-room apartment on Leninsky Prospekt.

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After their father’s funeral, the children returned to his three-room apartment on Leninsky Prospect. It smelled of old books, medicine, and that very same “Chypre” cologne their father had been buying since Soviet times. Valentina, the eldest sister, immediately sat down in the armchair by the window. That was always where Petr Semyonovich used to … Read more

— Since I’m now the nanny for your sister’s kids, here’s the bill for my services, — the wife had grown tired of tolerating a daycare at home.

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Lera was standing by the mirror in the hallway, touching up her lipstick, when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock — half past six in the evening. Sergey hadn’t come home from work yet, and she was supposed to meet a friend at a café. The bell rang again, more insistently. “Lera, open … Read more