— My favorite — a house and an apartment as a gift, and yet you came to beg from us? — spat Irina, her eyes fixed on her mother-in-law.
Valentina Petrovna went pale, clutching her chest, but I just smiled.
A performance had ended. I held a folder full of documents in my hands, and in my eyes shone the cold satisfaction of a woman who had been preparing this moment for three years.
— Marina Sergeyevna — coughed the notary — do you confirm that this is your signature on the gift deed?
My mother-in-law remained silent, her gaze shifting from me to Irina, her favorite young daughter-in-law. Irina stood in the doorway of my new apartment — the very one Valentina Petrovna had intended to transfer to her.
And it all started three years ago. I remember that Sunday lunch as if it were yesterday — the smell of roasted chicken, the creak of the old parquet in my mother-in-law’s apartment, and the words she had dropped as if by accident:
— Irinka is so diligent! Not like some others — Valentina Petrovna looked at me meaningfully. — I think I’ll transfer the apartment on Sadovaya Street to her. And the house in Peredelkino too. Let the children grow up in the fresh air.
I was chopping salad. The knife slipped from my hand, and I cut my finger. A drop of blood fell on the white tablecloth.
— Oh, Marina, you always have such clumsy hands! — my mother-in-law exclaimed, raising her hands. — Irinka, dear, get some hydrogen peroxide from the medicine cabinet.
Irina hurried to the cabinet, and I stared at the red spot on the table. I had lived with her son for ten years. Ten years enduring her “wise advice,” her sharp remarks, the constant comparisons.
And when Seryozha died in a motorcycle accident two years ago, I was left alone with a mortgage and two children.
And what do I hear? Everything — for Irina. Valentina Petrovna’s youngest son was thirty-five when he brought home a twenty-two-year-old beauty.
— Of course, I’ll help you with the children — added my mother-in-law, dabbing my cut with a cotton pad. — I can give ten thousand rubles a month.
Ten thousand. For two children. Alongside a fifteen-million-ruble apartment and a twenty-five-million-ruble house.
— Thank you, Mom — I forced a smile. — That’s very kind of you.
That evening, I couldn’t sleep for a long time. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. I could have argued, demanded justice.
But I knew Valentina Petrovna — I would have been the one at fault. “A greedy daughter-in-law, coveting the inheritance.”
And then I decided to play her own game.
— Mom — I called her the next day — can I help you with the paperwork? I have a friend who’s a lawyer, she can do it quickly and cheaply.
— Oh, Marinachka, thank you! I don’t understand these papers at all.
My friend really was a lawyer. Olga — we had studied together, and she owed me for an old favor.
— What are you planning? — she asked when I explained the situation.
— I want justice to prevail.
— How?
— By the law.
For the next six months, I became the perfect daughter-in-law. I took my mother-in-law to doctors, helped with paperwork, even befriended Irina.
It turned out she wasn’t such a bad girl — just young, ambitious, used to taking everything from life.
— You know — she admitted once over tea — I don’t love Vitya. But his mother adores him, and I need stability. My father left when I was a child, and my mother and I moved from one rented place to another.
— I understand — I nodded. And I truly did.
Olga and I prepared the documents meticulously. The gift deed was real — Valentina Petrovna had really signed it. Just not for what she thought.
— Mom, you need to sign here — I slid the documents to her in passing. — This is for the property evaluation.
— Ah, yes, of course — she signed without looking.
— And here, this is for the tax office.
— Okay, dear.
— And finally, for registration.
She trusted me. For the first time in all those years — she trusted me.
Meanwhile, I began gathering information about Irina. Not for blackmail — I just wanted to understand who I was dealing with. And I found something: she had a serious lover, a businessman who rented her an apartment downtown.
— Vitya is so boring — she complained to me. — But his mother adores him. Igor… with him, I feel alive.
— And he’s not asking you to marry him?
— He is. But he has a wife and kids. He won’t divorce. And I’m fine like this — Vitya for status, Igor for the soul, and soon property from Valya’s mother too.
I recorded this conversation on a voice recorder. Just in case.
The X day came a year later. Valentina Petrovna invited the whole family for lunch — she wanted to announce the gift deed ceremoniously.
— My dear children — she began, pouring tea — I am no longer young, and I want you to know: I have taken care of the family’s future.
Irina beamed.
— I am transferring the Sadovaya Street apartment and the Peredelkino house to Irina and Vitya.
— Mom — Vitya coughed awkwardly — and Marina? The kids?
— I will help Marina with money. Don’t worry, son, I won’t leave anyone out.
I quietly stirred the sugar in my tea. Olga could arrive any minute.
The doorbell rang.
— This is for me — I got up to open it.
Olga entered, holding a folder and another person — the notary.
— Valentina Petrovna? I need to speak with you.
— What’s happening? — my mother-in-law frowned.
— Three months ago you signed the gift deed for the Sadovaya apartment and the Peredelkino house. In the name of Marina Sergeyevna.
— What? That’s a mistake! I signed it for Irina!
— Here are copies of the documents. Your signature is notarized.
I will never forget Irina’s scream. She lunged at me with fists, but Vitya held her back.
— You tricked my mother! You had her sign the wrong papers!
— Prove it — I shrugged. — Valentina Petrovna is competent. She signed in front of witnesses.
— Mom, tell them! Tell them you meant to give it to me!
Valentina Petrovna remained silent, staring at the documents. The signature was everywhere — clear, recognizable.
— I… don’t remember…
— Maybe you felt unwell? — Olga asked sympathetically. — Blood pressure, age. It happens.
— If you believe you’ve been deceived — added the notary — you can go to court. But keep in mind: if you lose, you pay all court costs.
Irina attacked again a week later. She hired a lawyer, filed a lawsuit.
But I had all the documents, the neighbors’ witness statements that I cared for my mother-in-law, took her to the doctor. And most importantly — the recording of her admitting about her lover.
— If you go through with this — I warned her — Vitya will find out about Igor.
— You wouldn’t dare!
— I would. I have two children, left with ten thousand rubles a month by your mother. Do you think I’ll be polite with you?
She withdrew the lawsuit.
— My favorite — a house and an apartment as a gift, and yet you came to beg from us? — spat Irina when they came a month later with Valentina Petrovna.
My mother-in-law looked old, haggard.
— Marina — she began quietly — I know I was unfair. But are you really going to put me out on the street?
— Where do you get that? You have an apartment in Bibirevo. A pension. Your son works. You won’t be on the street.
— But… the house… the Sadovaya apartment… It’s family!
— It was. Now it’s mine. Earned with hard work and blood over ten years of marriage and two years of widowhood.
— Marina — Vitya tried to intervene — Mom is an old woman. She wanted to die in that house.
I looked at him. Vitya was a decent guy — just weak, under the thumb of his mother and wife.
— Fine — I said finally. — Valentina Petrovna can live in the house. I’ll prepare a lifetime residence agreement for her. But the house will remain for my children — the grandchildren of your eldest son. I’ll sell the Sadovaya apartment — the children need education.
— And me? — Irina couldn’t bear it.
— And you, dear, can ask Igor to buy you an apartment. Or learn to love your husband — then he’ll earn too.
Her face turned red. Vitya looked at his wife in confusion:
— Which Igor?
That evening, I sat in the kitchen of my new apartment. The children were doing homework in their rooms — each had their own. Outside, snow was falling.
The phone beeped — a message from Olga: “How are you?”
“Justice has prevailed,” I replied.
“You’re harsh with them.”
“They started it.”
I poured myself tea, took out my favorite cookies. On the wall hung a photo of Seryozha — smiling, hugging me and the kids.
— I did it — I said to the photo. — Your mother wanted our children to have nothing. But I didn’t let it happen.
Outside, the snow grew heavier. Somewhere there, in her apartment in Bibirevo, Valentina Petrovna was surely telling the neighbors what a monster I am. Irina was probably arguing with Vitya — the secret had come out.
And I just sipped tea in the apartment that now belonged to my children. And I felt not an ounce of guilt.
In the end, I just took back what was rightfully ours. The right of the family, which Valentina Petrovna had been so ready to erase from our lives for the sake of a young beauty.
The phone rang — an unknown number.
— Marina Sergeyevna? — a male voice. — Igor here. We… know each other through Irina.
— I’m listening.
— She said you have a recording…
— I do.
— How much do you want for it?
I laughed:
— Nothing. I’m not a blackmailer. I’ll delete the recording. But tell Irina: she is never to appear at my place or at Valentina Petrovna’s again. Agreed?
— Y-yes… of course. Thank you.
I put down the phone and deleted the recording. It had served its purpose — a trump card I no longer needed.
Justice prevailed. And you know what? It felt incredibly satisfying.
