Khrystyna raised her hand to knock on her husband’s office door—then heard her own name and went still. “Yes, Khrystyna should be calling any minute now. Finally, everything gets settled, sweetheart. ”
The voice inside belonged to Karina, the new marketing assistant with the doll-like face and those wide brown eyes that batted at every manager who walked past.
“Baby, I’m so scared,” Karina whispered. “What if something goes wrong? ”
“Nothing will go wrong, kitten. We planned it perfectly.
The second Khrystyna hands over the money, I’ll say I’m rushing to the Carpathians to close the hotel deal. But I’ll come straight to you. We’re flying to Dubai. ”
Khrystyna pressed herself against the cold hallway wall.
The documents she had come to show him were crushed against her chest. Only hours earlier, she had sat in the notary’s office signing the papers that made her the heir to her godmother’s fifteen million hryvnias. Nadia Petrivna had been more than a godmother—she was the woman who raised Khrystyna after her mother died, who taught her to bake apple pie, who read Tolstoy aloud in the evenings and always said, “You deserve the best life, my girl. One day everything will change, like magic.
”
That magic had finally arrived. Fifteen million. Enough for every dream she and Mykyta had ever whispered about. That morning, her husband had been a wreck.
He paced the apartment instead of lingering over coffee. “You’ll call me the second you leave the notary, right? I’ll go insane waiting. ”
She had laughed and kissed his rumpled hair, promised she would call.
He seemed so anxious, so invested in their shared dream—a small hotel near Yaremche, homemade banosh for guests, mountain trails at dawn. They’d stayed up until midnight talking about it. Now she understood his anxiety was never love. It was greed.
After the notary, she had decided to surprise him at work. His presentation should be over by then. She’d show him the certificate and they would celebrate like children. The security guard nodded as she passed; the elevator lifted her to the fourth floor.
The hallway stood empty, everyone at lunch. Her heels clicked on the polished ceramic like a metronome as she approached his slightly open door. Then she heard her name. “She’ll give me everything,” Mykyta was saying.
“I’m her loving husband, her one and only. She’s looked at me with those devoted puppy eyes for seven years. I told her the property owner wants an urgent cash deposit. She’ll hand it right over.
”
“I already found us a gorgeous apartment in Dubai,” Karina said. “And once we’re there, she’ll be stuck believing I’m busy at some property in Yaremche. By the time she understands, we’ll be long gone. ”
“The hotel—” Karina giggled.
“You said it was your big shared dream. ”
“Spare me. That’s all her infantile fantasy. I just played along beautifully.
The years I spent choking down talk about opening our own business, about the ‘perfect plot of land in the mountains. ‘ Know how long I’ve waited to be free of it? ”
His laughter sliced through Khrystyna like a blade. “At least it’s almost over,” Karina murmured, and the sounds of a kiss drifted through the crack.
Khrystyna wanted to burst in. To scream. To destroy everything. But something held her pinned to the wall, forcing her to swallow the truth to the last drop.
“Get back to your desk anyway,” Mykyta said. “Khrystyna promised to call. We’ll talk tonight, kitten. ”
Khrystyna turned and walked.
She made it to the elevator, to the safety of her car, before the tears came. They burned down her cheeks and smeared her careful makeup. Seven years. Seven years of playing house with a stranger, an actor who had performed the role of the perfect husband so well that even she had applauded.
And the worst part? He was right. She would have handed him every kopiyka for that hotel. Her phone buzzed.
Mykyta. She wiped her face, breathed in, breathed out. When she answered, her voice was pure sunshine. “Yes, darling?
Can you believe it? I’ve signed everything. The certificate is in my hands—fifteen million. And the cash for the deposit is already in my bag, just like we agreed.
I’m heading home to cook us a celebration dinner. I can’t wait to see you. ”
“I’ll get out of here as early as I can, love. ” His eagerness nearly burst through the speaker.
Khrystyna gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles went white. She didn’t drive home. She drove to the biggest joke shop she could find, where she bought every pack of souvenir banknotes they stocked—bright, convincing stacks printed with the small warning, “Not legal tender. ”
Back in the apartment, she wrapped the bundles in neat paper bands and cinched them with rubber bands from her husband’s desk drawer.
They looked solid. Real. At seven in the evening, the key turned in the lock. “Darling, I’m home!
” Mykyta swept into the living room, loosening his silk tie, clutching a bouquet of red roses. “How did it go? I’ve been on fire all day, thinking about you, about us. ”
“Everything is perfect, my love.
” Khrystyna summoned the warmest, tenderest smile she could manage while her stomach turned. “I prepared everything for you. ”
She gestured to the dining table, where neat stacks of cash covered the surface. Mykyta stopped.
His eyes went wide. “That’s … that’s all ours? ”
“All ours,” she purred.
“I knew how long you’ve waited for this day. ”
He crushed her against him. “You have no idea what a beautiful life awaits us. That cozy hotel in the mountains—ten rooms in modern Hutsul style, a restaurant downstairs, a wooden terrace with endless views.
And you in a white dress, walking the slopes. How do you like that plan? ”
So easy, she thought. The lies slid off his tongue like honey.
Blinded by greed, he never examined a single bundle. He stuffed the fake money into his leather backpack with trembling hands. “I should go now,” he said, fighting with the zipper. “The owner says another buyer showed up.
I need to bring the deposit before morning. I’ll negotiate at dawn. You don’t mind? ”
“How about we celebrate first?
” she asked, practicing a disappointed pout. “The second I’m back with the signed papers, we’ll throw the biggest party. Champagne, oysters, everything you love. I’ll call you every hour—I promise.
”
From which terminal? she thought. Which country code? But she only smiled.
“Of course, my dear. Safe travels. ”
She kissed him goodbye at the door, locked it behind him, poured herself a glass of red wine, and sat by the window to wait. The phone exploded three hours later.
“Khrystyna, what the hell is going on? ” Mykyta’s voice had become a strangled shriek. “What did you give me? I stopped at an exchange to break the cash—and they’re fake.
Souvenir bills. The cashier hit the alarm. The police are here. They’re going to arrest me for attempted fraud!
”
“Souvenir bills? ” Khrystyna repeated, tasting every syllable. “How symbolic. How perfectly fair.
Cheap little fakes—exactly like your love. Your loyalty. All seven years of our perfect marriage. ”
Silence on the line, broken only by the crackle of police radios and a stern voice ordering hands on the counter.
“Khrystyna, please. You can’t do this. Help me talk to them. Where’s the real money?
”
“The real money is in my personal bank account. What I gave you is exactly what you deserve—a pretty package with nothing inside. Just like the life you built for me. ”
“Please,” he begged.
“I’ll explain everything. You misunderstood—”
“Why not call Karina? ” she cut in, ice in her voice. “She’s so clever and resourceful.
Let her take out a loan for your bail. ”
“Khrystyna—”
She looked at the certificate on the table, the embossed seal catching the light. “Actually, I should thank you. After all these years of playing the fool, your greed finally opened my eyes.
” She listened to the police radio chatter, to his frantic breathing. “Goodbye forever. Anything about the divorce goes through my lawyer. ”
She pressed the red button, cut the line, and leaned back in the chair.
Tears slid down her cheeks, but they were not tears of grief. She picked up the inheritance certificate and traced the notary’s seal with her fingertip. Her godmother had promised that one day everything would change. It had.
Not the way she expected—but maybe that was the point. She lifted her glass to the night sky. The lights of Kyiv flickered beyond the window like a promise. “Thank you for everything, godmother.
You didn’t just leave me money. You showed me the truth before it was too late. ”
The hotel in the Carpathians could wait. The travels could wait.
Everything she had planned with a liar now belonged to her alone. For the first time in seven years, the road ahead was entirely hers.
