— Anna Mikhailovna, please pack up your personal things. You no longer work for this company.
Igor didn’t even look away from his computer screen as he said this, his voice calm and detached, as if he were talking about some stranger. Twelve years working side by side, twelve years building the business together—yet now he spoke as if they were never connected at all.
— What do you mean? – Anna froze in the doorway, holding a folder of reports in her hands.
— You’re fired. As of today. Compensation will be transferred to your card according to the law.
Igor’s voice was cold and formal. Anna slowly placed the folder on the table and sat down across from him.
— Igor, please explain… We built this business together…
— I just decided it’s time to refresh the team. We need new ideas, a fresh perspective. Vika has suggested some interesting approaches for development.
At the mention of the new employee’s name, Anna understood everything. Vika had only worked there for half a year, but she was already Igor’s right hand. Young, energetic, and always sparkling when she talked about social media promotion and new sales technologies.
— Was it her idea to get rid of me?
— No one pushed me to do anything! – Igor snapped, finally looking at her. – I make my own decisions. In my company.
— In our company, — Anna quietly corrected him.
— It’s my company now. All the documents are in my name. It’s my business. You’ll get whatever the labor code requires.
Anna looked at the man she had spent eighteen years of her life with and couldn’t recognize him. This cold stranger was once the same man who told her he loved her and thanked her for believing in his dream—a tiny furniture workshop in a garage.
— Do you remember how it all started? That garage on Promyshlennaya? You made the first stools, and I found clients and handled the paperwork…
— That was a long time ago. Now we need a different approach.
Vika peeked into the office. Well-groomed, with a perfect hairstyle, flawless makeup, and a radiant smile.
— Igor Semyonovich, sorry to interrupt. There’s a client on the phone about a kitchen set. We need to make a decision right away.
— I’ll be there in a minute, — Igor said, getting up. — Anna Mikhailovna, our conversation is over.
Anna stood up slowly. Inside, she felt nothing but deep hurt and a strange sense of freedom.
— Alright. Should I hand everything over to Vika?
— No need. We’ll handle it ourselves.
As she left the office, Anna ran into Semyon Petrovich—the old master craftsman who’d been with them since the garage days.
— Anna Mikhailovna, what happened? You look…
— I don’t work here anymore.
He was so surprised, he even adjusted his glasses.
— What do you mean you don’t work here? Who’s going to…?
— Igor wants to bring in a new team. Vika will take care of everything now.
— That girl can’t even tell the difference between MDF and chipboard! Just yesterday, she was asking about it!
— Seems like she learns fast, — Anna replied with a bitter smile. — Take care of yourself, Semyon Petrovich. Look after the others, too.
While packing her things, Anna overheard Vika’s voice coming from the next room:
— Of course, we’ll give you a discount! Fifteen percent—Igor Semyonovich approved it.
“You could go broke with such a discount,” Anna thought. But that was no longer her concern.
That evening, she was sitting in her sister Marina’s kitchen, sharing everything that had happened. Marina, an
experienced realtor, listened intently, occasionally gasping in outrage.
“Just like that… Eighteen years of marriage, twelve years running a business together, and he threw you out like a stranger!”
“Marina, let’s not get emotional. What’s done is done.”
“So what now? Are you going to get a job?”
Anna paused to think. At forty-five, finding a good position wasn’t easy. And working for someone else again after running her own business wasn’t appealing at all.
“What if…” she mused. “What if I start my own business?”
“Anya!” Marina jumped up. “That’s a great idea! You have the experience, the contacts, you know all the suppliers!”
“But I don’t have money. Just whatever compensation I’ll get from Igor.”
“What about a loan? I can mortgage an apartment. My three-room place on Mira has been sitting empty—I was thinking of renting it out anyway.”
Anna looked at her sister gratefully. Marina was always ready to take a risk for family.
“This is serious, Marina. What if it doesn’t work out?”
“But what if it does? Anna, you’re so talented! Remember how you redid my kitchen? The neighbors still ask me who did it.”
The next day, Anna went out to look for a workspace. Marina gave her a list of options in industrial areas with affordable rent.
The third place was just right. It was a small workshop, previously a sewing studio. High ceilings, easy access, a separate entrance for clients.
“It’s been vacant for two months,” explained the owner, Viktor Ivanovich. “The previous tenants left, and I can’t find new ones. What will you be doing here?”
“Custom-made furniture production.”
“Excellent! I just ordered a kitchen recently—it was a nightmare. They missed deadlines and got the measurements wrong.”
They agreed on a price, Anna paid the deposit, and got the keys.
Now she needed equipment. This was where her old contacts came in handy. Oleg Mikhailovich, who had supplied machines back at ‘KrestDrev’, was delighted to get her call.
“Anna Mikhailovna! What a surprise! I heard things are going well for you!”
“Oleg Mikhailovich, I have my own project now. I need machines. Can you help?”
“Of course! I have a set that’s almost new—from a workshop that closed down. The price will be special, just for you.”
A week later, the workshop was transformed: machines, workbenches, shelving all set up. Now she just needed to assemble a team.
And then, out of the blue, Semyon Petrovich called.
“Anna Mikhailovna, could we meet?”
They arranged to meet at a café near the new workshop. Semyon Petrovich arrived looking upset.
“It’s total chaos over there. Vika takes orders but then has no idea what to do next. Yesterday she promised a client a wardrobe in three days! I told her we need to order materials, and she said, ‘Why don’t we have a warehouse?’”
Anna sighed. It was clear Vika had no clue about production.
“And Igor?”
“He’s always out at meetings. Lunching with her, going to trainings. The production is running itself.”
“Are you thinking about joining me?”
“Anna Mikhailovna, I’ve been wishing for that!”
A month later, Volodya and Andrey—young carpenters from Igor’s old team—joined them. They came by one evening as Anna was looking over invoices.
“Anna Mikhailovna, do you have a minute?”
“Come in, have a seat. Tea?”
— No, thank you. Actually, we’d like to work for you.
Anna studied them closely.
— What happened?
— Things are going badly for us. Vika came up with new rules. Now we have to report every hour. And yesterday she said she’ll pay us less—because we’re working too slowly.
— For what reason?
— She says we need to comply with European standards. We try explaining that you can’t do quality work quickly, but she won’t listen.
— And Igor?
The guys exchanged glances.
— He supports her. Says young people know more about modern methods.
Anna thought for a moment. The guys had always been reliable and hardworking.
— Alright. You’ll start on Monday. Your salary will be at least as much as before.
The guys were delighted and shook her hand.
After they left, Anna called Marina:
— Marisha, how are things with the advertising?
— The newspaper ad comes out tomorrow, and it’s already online. I’ve told my clients about you too. One lady is interested in kids’ furniture.
— Wonderful. It looks like things are working out for us.
Meanwhile, over at the ‘KrestDrev’ office, Igor was reviewing the order report. The numbers looked grim.
— Vika, why do we have so few orders this month?
— Igor Semyonovich, it’s the low season. Plus, competition has ramped up. There are new players on the market.
— Who exactly?
— For example, there’s a workshop called ‘AnMeb’. They’re advertising aggressively and offering really low prices.
Igor frowned—the name felt familiar.
— Who’s behind that project?
Vika shrugged.
— Not sure. But they’ve already lured away two of our clients. Even Elena Sergeyevna from the furniture salon went to them for an estimate.
Igor straightened suddenly. Elena Sergeyevna had been one of the company’s key clients for the past five years. Losing her would mean a serious financial blow.
— Get in touch with her immediately. Offer a discount.
— How much of a discount?
— Any! Twenty, thirty percent—it doesn’t matter. We need to keep the client.
Vika nodded and started dialing. Igor gazed thoughtfully out the window. There was something about the name ‘AnMeb’ that tugged at his memory…
The realization hit that evening, as he was driving home. AnMeb—it’s Anna Mikhailovna! His ex-wife had started her own workshop and was now competing with him, on equal footing.
Igor stopped his car in front of his building and sat there for a long time, processing the news. So she didn’t fall apart after getting fired, she didn’t go searching for just any job—she decided to challenge him head-on.
“Let’s see what you’re capable of,” he thought, heading home.
The next day, Igor decided to visit his ex-wife’s workshop in person. He’d gotten the address from a contact in advertising.
The modest building in the industrial zone looked neat, without any extravagance. The sign above the entrance read proudly: “AnMeb – Furniture with Soul”. Igor parked across the street and started to watch.
An hour later, he saw Semyon Petrovich come out of the workshop, followed by Volodya and Andrey. Anger bubbled up inside—these people hadn’t just quit, they’d joined his main rival!
He grabbed his phone and dialed Anna.
— Hello?
— It’s Igor. We need to talk.
— About what? I thought we’d already settled everything.
— I know about your workshop. And that you took my employees.
“People came to me on their own. I didn’t call anyone.”
“Then why did they come to you specifically?”
“Maybe it’s because I appreciate their experience, instead of treating them like they’re disposable?”
Igor went silent. Lately, he had really handed over the management of the workers to Vika and hardly listened to their opinions at all.
“Let’s meet up. We can talk calmly.”
“I have a client waiting. Sorry.”
The call ended. The dial tone stung more than the words.
Elena Sergeyevna, the owner of one of the biggest furniture showrooms, wanted to meet Anna right away when she heard about her new business.
“Anna Mikhailovna, it’s such a pleasure to see you!” The woman shook her hand warmly. “I’ll be honest—Igor’s work has noticeably gone downhill since you left.”
“That’s interesting,” Anna said, leading her guest into a small office next to the production area.
“The new management is changing everything. Deadlines aren’t being met, and when I ask why, some girl tells me that now everything is going to be different.”
“What would you like to order now?”
“A project for a new apartment complex. Fifty flats—we need kitchens, wardrobes, children’s furniture. It’s a huge order, and payment is to match.”
Anna quickly took in the size of the task. This was months of work for the whole team.
“Elena Sergeyevna, this is a serious project. We need to calculate timelines and costs.”
“I have an offer from Igor Semenovich. He’s giving a twenty percent discount and promises to finish in two months.”
Anna thought it over. Such a discount would make the job almost pointless profit-wise, but it would be foolish to pass it up.
“I can’t offer such a discount,” she admitted honestly. “But I do guarantee quality, a personal approach, and that we’ll meet the deadlines.”
“Reliability is most important to me. I can’t afford to lose face with the developer because of defects or delays.”
“Then give me three days to prepare a proposal.”
After the client left, Anna called a team meeting: Semyon Petrovich, Volodya, and Andrey gathered in the office.
“Guys, we might have a major order—fifty apartments, all interior furniture. But the competition is tough.”
“We can do it,” Semyon Petrovich said confidently. “The main thing is to organize the process right.”
“There’s another problem—Igor is offering a big discount. The client might pick him.”
“Or maybe not,” Volodya pointed out. “I’ve heard they’re having quality issues. My relative’s wardrobe arrived crooked, and the fittings were all wrong.”
Anna shook her head. It seemed the rush for speed was starting to backfire.
Meanwhile, at the KrestDrev office, Vika updated Igor:
“She’s leaning toward our offer. The discount clearly made an impact.”
“Good. But can we really fulfill such a volume in two months?”
Vika hesitated for a moment.
“We’ll have to push hard. Maybe we should hire more workers.”
“That’s not an option. The payroll is already growing. We have to manage with who we have.”
“Then we’ll introduce overtime.”
Igor agreed. Even though he realized the timeframe was unrealistic, he wasn’t going to risk losing the client.
Three days later, Elena Sergeevna received two offers. Igor promised to get everything done in two months with a 20% discount. Anna proposed three and a half months, but included a detailed plan, samples of materials, and a full guarantee.
“Your proposal seems more realistic,” the client admitted. “But the price…”
“I understand,” Anna replied. “But think about the risks. If the deadlines are missed, you risk your reputation. And that’s more costly than any discount.”
“Alright. We’ll sign the contract with you. On one condition—if you are delayed by more than a week, there will be a 10% penalty.”
“Agreed.”
They shook hands, and Elena Sergeevna left. Anna immediately called Marina.
“Marish, we got a big order! That’s six months of work for us.”
“Anya, I’m so happy for you! But how do you think Igor will react when he finds out?”
“He’ll find out soon. Elena Sergeevna will tell him herself.”
And sure enough, an hour later the phone rang at the ‘KrestDrev’ office.
“Igor Semyonovich, this is Elena Sergeevna. We’ve made our decision—we’re not choosing your offer.”
Igor felt his heart stop.
“But why? We agreed on such a good discount…”
“I need to be confident. Your team just doesn’t inspire trust yet. It’s nothing personal—just business.”
After the call, Igor sat in his chair for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Vika tried to find words of comfort, but he couldn’t hear her.
The biggest order had gone to his ex-wife. And it seemed like this was just the beginning.
News about Elena Sergeevna’s choice spread quickly across the market. In the furniture business, everyone knows everyone, and the word traveled faster than lightning.
Anna realized the tide had turned within a week—calls from new clients started coming in.
“Good afternoon, is this the ‘AnMeb’ furniture workshop?”
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“Elena Sergeevna recommended you. She said you do quality work. I need a kitchen for a country house.”
There were already five such calls within a week. Word of mouth turned out to be stronger than any advertising.
Semyon Petrovich came by every day with news from the former office.
“Anna Mikhailovna, it’s chaos over there. Vika is making everyone work twelve hours straight. She says we have to make up for lost time.”
“How are the team taking it?”
“Three have already quit. Only the toughest remain. But even they are complaining.”
Anna shook her head. Igor used to really understand his team, but now things had reached the point of mass resignations.
“Maybe we should invite some of the ones who’ve stayed to join us? The orders keep coming in, we need more hands.”
“There’s a guy named Maxim. Good craftsman, very responsible. But right now he’s holding on—has to feed his kids.”
“Got it. If he decides to switch, tell him he’s welcome.”
Meanwhile, tension hung in the ‘KrestDrev’ office. Igor grew more irritable by the day, and Vika tried to fix things, but only seemed to make it worse.
“Igor Semyonovich, we have to do something about the staff,” she said, waving some documents. “Three have quit, orders are backing up, and deadlines are slipping.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We could hire some students. They’re cheaper and have more energy.”
Igor sighed. Furniture making with students means at least a month of training and a high risk of defects.
“Vika, furniture making is about experience, not youth. We need professionals.”
“Professionals are expensive! And our profits are already dropping.”
“They’re dropping because we’re losing customers due to poor quality and delays!”
Vika pouted, and Igor remembered how Anna used to handle all of these issues before. She knew every supplier, every craftsman, and kept a close eye on every stage of production.
That evening, Igor made a decision he had long avoided—he headed to the AnMeb workshop.
Anna had stayed late at work, reviewing blueprints for a new order. When she heard a knock, she looked up and saw a familiar figure standing outside the window.
“Igor? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk. Can I come in?”
She hesitated for a moment, then opened the door.
“Come in.”
Igor looked around the space. The workshop was small, but everything was organized, tidy, and efficient. The equipment was up-to-date, and the workstations were neatly arranged.
“Not a bad setup,” he remarked.
“Thank you. So, what did you want?”
“Let’s talk business, like real partners. You’re successful, I’m having a rough time. Maybe we should join forces?”
Anna set down the blueprints and gave him a measured look.
“Join forces? What do you mean?”
“I’m suggesting we create a single project. You’d get a share in KrestDrev, and I’d have one in AnMeb. We can work together like before.”
“Igor, do you remember how we ‘worked together’ last time? You threw me out like I was nothing, like something you didn’t need.”
“I made a mistake. I admit it.”
“A mistake?” Her voice turned cold. “You humiliated me in front of everyone. You tossed me aside for your young assistant.”
Igor winced at the mention of Vika.
“This is business. Nothing personal.”
“Maybe for you it’s just business. For me, it was losing trust in someone I gave years of my life to.”
They stood across from each other in the dim workshop, separated by a gulf of hurt and disappointment.
“What do you want me to say? That I’m to blame? Yes. That I regret it? I do. But let’s think about the future.”
“We have different futures. You chose your path—now live with it.”
“Anna, let’s be realistic—the competition will destroy us both. It’s better if we work together.”
“No, Igor. I don’t trust you anymore, not as a person or as a partner.”
He realized there was no use arguing. Anna never forgave betrayal.
“Alright then. See you on the market.”
“See you.”
After he left, she sat in silence for a long time. His offer didn’t surprise her—he’d always been calculating. But to forgive him? She couldn’t, and she didn’t want to.
The next few months made the truth clear. AnMeb ran like clockwork. Large orders were completed on time, and new clients kept coming in.
Anna hired two more craftsmen—Maksim, who finally left Igor, and an experienced finishing specialist, Svetlana. The team quickly found their rhythm together.
“Anna Mikhailovna, maybe it’s time to think about expanding? Space is tight, and there are so many orders.”
“I’m already thinking about it. Marina found a suitable space nearby. We can connect them.”
“What about equipment?”
“Oleg Mikhailovich is offering a new automated line. It would double our productivity.”
The plans were ambitious, but achievable. Profits were strong enough to invest in growth.
Meanwhile, things kept getting worse at KrestDrev. Vika tried to get the business under control, but she didn’t have enough experience. Igor withdrew into himself.
— Maybe it’s time to change our strategy? Should we move into the budget market?
— You mean making furniture out of sawdust and glue?
— Not that extreme. I just mean reducing our production costs.
— We’ve already cut everything we can. Any more and we’ll damage our reputation.
But the reputation was already suffering. Clients complained, deadlines were missed. Two major partners cancelled their contracts.
The last straw was the incident with the kindergarten. The lockers were painted with poor-quality paint. The health inspector fined us, and the client demanded we redo everything at our own expense.
— Igor Semyonovich, I didn’t know the paint wasn’t certified! The supplier assured me it was all fine…
— Where did you find this supplier?
— I found them online. The price was good…
Igor closed his eyes. Anna had never worked with untested partners before. She always relied on her trusted, time-proven list.
— How much will this cost us?
— About a million rubles.
There was no money.
A year later, Anna stood in a new, expanded workshop, accepting congratulations. “AnMeb” was celebrating its first anniversary after signing a contract to furnish a shopping center.
— To our success! — toasted Semyon Petrovich, raising his glass. — And to you for being brave enough to start over.
— To the team, — Anna replied. — None of this would have happened without all of you.
The team had grown to twelve people. They were planning to open a branch in the next city.
Volodya walked over with a smile:
— Anna Mikhailovna, have you heard what happened to ‘KrestDrev’?
— No, and I don’t want to know.
— They say Igor is selling off the remains of the business for next to nothing.
Anna didn’t reply. She felt neither joy nor pity. He had chosen his own path.
That evening, after everyone had left, she sat in her office planning meetings for the next week. The phone rang.
— Anna Mikhailovna, it’s Igor.
She recognized the voice — tired and lost.
— What do you want?
— I wanted to apologize. And to say thank you.
— For what?
— For the lesson. I realized I’ve lost the most important person in my life. And in business, too.
Anna stayed silent.
— Think it over — maybe you’ll buy what’s left? The machines, the client database… I’ll let it go for next to nothing.
— No, Igor. I don’t need anyone else’s mistakes. I have my own path.
— I understand. Then I wish you luck. Truly.
— And to you as well.
She hung up and got back to work. Tomorrow new negotiations would begin. Life was moving forward — and she was moving forward with it.
Outside, the autumn day was fading. Anna looked at the photo on her desk — the entire AnMeb team at a company event. Smiles, laughter, trust. This was her new family.
She turned off the lights and headed to the exit. Tomorrow will be a new day full of opportunities. And she will face it with her head held high — a woman who transformed pain into strength and betrayal into success.
“AnMeb” closed for the night, but tomorrow it would wake again to phone calls, client meetings, and the buzz of machines. And Anna would be there — the master of her fate, creating furniture with soul.
The story ended fairly. Everyone got what they deserved — according to their choices and actions