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— “So you get everything now, and I’m the one paying the loan?” — she realized her mother and sister had set her up completely, but she already knew how to teach them a lesson.

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Elena climbed to the fourth floor without an elevator, as always, and already on the landing she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Her mother and Katya were discussing something, speaking quietly but with that particular tone that meant: “an important conversation.” Elena stopped at the door and listened. No, they weren’t talking about her. … Read more

Don’t you ever set foot in here again—you’re not even family to me!” — that holiday was the last straw for the daughter-in-law, and she made them respect her.

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Anna knew the day would be hard from the morning on, when Sergei started fussing around the apartment, rearranging chairs and checking whether there were enough plates. His relatives always arrived in a crowd—his sister Larisa with her husband Volodya, Aunt Klava, his cousin Igor with his wife. And every time, Anna felt not like … Read more

“My husband secretly transferred everything to his mistress. He didn’t know that his accountant wife had been preparing her own surprise for ten years…”

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“I moved everything. We own nothing now.” Oleg tossed the line out as casually as he’d fling his car keys onto the hall table. He didn’t even glance at me—just stripped off the pricey tie I’d given him for our last anniversary. I stopped with a plate in my hand. Not from shock. From a … Read more

Overhearing my husband’s sister plotting to deprive me of our apartment — I gave her an unexpected surprise

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  Marina shoved the dirty plates into the dishwasher and set it to express wash. The Friday dinner had gone well; Igor was wolfing down her signature mushroom pie. Even Nastya—who always wrinkled her nose at anything cooked by “that upstart,” as she called Marina behind her back—ate two slices.   “I’m jumping in the … Read more

All my money is mine, and yours is yours,” my husband brayed, not knowing that tomorrow my father would fire him and put me in his place.

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 — Come on, Anya, you’re like a child. My money is mine. Yours is yours. Totally fair, — Dima leaned back on the sofa and laughed loud and heartily. Child care services That laugh, which a year ago had seemed genuine and infectious, now clanged in my ears like cheap metal. He looked down at … Read more

“I’m sick of you. Sick of your care, your constant fussing, that eternally smiling face. ‘Kostya, your soup,’ ‘Kostya, your slippers,’ ‘Kostya, are you tired?’” her husband mocked bitterly as he bustled about packing his things. “It’s disgusting.

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— I’m sick of you. Of your fussing, your constant baby talk, that ever-smiling face. ‘Kostyenchka, your soup; Kostyenchka, your slippers; Kostyenchka, you must be tired,’” her husband mocked as he packed his things. “It’s disgusting! I’m wrapped in your care like in sticky cobwebs. The kids are grown; no one owes anyone anything.” “Do … Read more

— “This is my home. I’m done playing hostess. Everyone out.” It was past time those impolite “guests” learned some manners.

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  “Ksenia! Where have you disappeared to? The guests have been waiting half an hour for coffee! And cut the cake into larger pieces—Vasily Timofeyevich has a sweet tooth!” Her mother-in-law’s voice, Elena Petrovna’s, ricocheted through the apartment. Ksenia inhaled slowly, swallowing her irritation. A crowd of about ten had taken over the living room—every … Read more

We’ll sit at the table first with my mother,” my husband yelled — but then he ended up without a family and without dinner

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Victoria woke up early, before dawn. Outside, the autumn wind was rustling, chasing yellow leaves around the yard. The rain had stopped only by night, and now puddles made the asphalt gleam. Victoria got out of bed, threw on a robe, and went to the kitchen. Her mother-in-law was coming today, which meant everything had … Read more

Millionaire Walked In at Midnight—and Froze: The Cleaning Lady Was Asleep, Cradling His Twins. And on her hand

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The silence of the night was shattered like a crystal bell by twelve strokes from the antique mantel clock—an heirloom sentinel on the fireplace. Each strike was heavy and ringing, as if cast from pure time itself, and it thudded in his temples with a dull ache. Arthur Vandermond—whose name in business circles was spoken … Read more