The Fiancée and the Father Karina only pretended to want to meet Vadim’s parents. Honestly, why should she care about them? She’s not going to live with them, and as for his father—who, apparently, is quite well-off—she’d get nothing but trouble and suspicion from him. Still, once you’ve decided to marry, you have to play the part to the end. Karina dressed up, but kept things simple, hoping to make a sweet impression. Meeting your fiancé’s parents is always a tricky event full of hidden pitfalls, but meeting clever parents? That’s a true test of character. Vadim thought she needed reassurance. “Don’t worry, Karina—really, don’t. Dad’s a bit of a grump, but reasonable. They won’t say anything awful. And they’ll love you, I promise! Dad is strange, sure, but Mum is the life of the party,” he assured her outside his parents’ house. Karina just smiled, flipping a lock of hair off her shoulder. Well, Dad’s gloomy and Mum’s the soul of the company. Quite the combination, she thought wryly. The house didn’t impress her. She’d seen grander places. They were greeted at once. Karina wasn’t particularly nervous. Why should she be? Ordinary people, after all. Nina Petrovna, as Vadim had already mentioned, had spent years as a housewife, hardly working at all, sometimes off on trips with friends, but nothing remarkable. The father, Valery Aleksandrovich, was said to be not much fun, but at least he was quiet. Though, his name did sound oddly familiar… They were welcomed in… And Karina stopped dead, freezing on the doorstep. This was the end. She didn’t know her future mother-in-law, but the father-in-law she recognised in an instant… They’d already met. Three years ago. Not often, but certainly mutually beneficial. Bars, hotels, restaurants. Naturally, neither Valery’s wife nor his son knew about their acquaintance. Here we go. Valery recognised her too. There was a flash in his eyes—surprise, shock, maybe something darker, perhaps plans already forming—but he kept silent. Vadim, oblivious, cheerfully introduced her to his parents. “Mum, Dad, this is Karina. My fiancée. I’d have brought her before, but she’s so terribly shy.” Oh dear… Valery Aleksandrovich shook her hand. His grip was firm, almost hard. “Very pleased to meet you, Karina,” he said, with an almost imperceptible note of…something Karina couldn’t quite pin down. Anger? A warning? Or… Karina braced herself, waiting for Valery to reveal who she really was. “Very pleased to meet you, Valery Aleksandrovich,” Karina replied, trying to play along and avoid immediate discovery. She squeezed his hand, feeling the rush of adrenaline. What’s going to happen now… Nothing. Valery managed a semblance of a smile, then pulled out a chair for her at the table. Perhaps he was saving up her shame for later… But nothing happened. Then it hit Karina—of course he wouldn’t say a word. If he revealed her, he’d have to reveal himself to his wife. Once she relaxed, things seemed fairly cordial. Nina Petrovna shared childhood stories about Vadim, and Valery Aleksandrovich appeared to listen to Karina with keen interest, asking about her work. Oh, he knew quite a bit about her. But his subtle irony no longer stung. He even cracked a few jokes; to her own surprise, Karina laughed. His jokes, though, were laced with nuances only the two of them understood. For example, when he looked at Karina and said: “You remind me of an old…colleague of mine, Karina. Very clever. Knew how to deal with people. All sorts of people.” Karina didn’t miss a beat. “Everyone has their own talents, Valery Aleksandrovich.” Vadim, completely smitten, gazed at Karina in adoration, missing all the undercurrents. He really loved her. And that was perhaps the most important—and most bitter—thing. For him. Later, the conversation turned to travel, and Valery Aleksandrovich, eyeing Karina, remarked: “I prefer secluded places. No fuss, no crowds. A good spot to sit and think. Especially with the right book. And you, Karina, what sort of places do you like?” A trap. “I like it lively—people everywhere, a bit of noise and fun,” answered Karina, refusing to be drawn in. “Although, sometimes, a few too many ears isn’t always safe.” For a moment—just the briefest flicker—Nina seemed to notice something. Karina saw the future mother-in-law frown, only to shrug off some uncomfortable thought. Valery Aleksandrovich knew Karina wasn’t one for quiet. He knew exactly why. When the evening ended and it was time for bed, Valery Aleksandrovich hugged Vadim. “Take care of her, son. She’s… special.” It sounded both like praise and mockery—though only Karina understood. She felt the temperature in the room drop. “Special.” That choice of word. *** That night, after the house fell asleep, Karina lay awake, thinking over their unexpected meeting and how to cope with these new realities. The future looked grim. She suspected Valery Aleksandrovich wasn’t sleeping either—for the same uneasy reasons. She slipped out, pulled on a hoodie over her tee and shorts, and padded down the stairs, making just enough noise to alert any fellow night owl. Out on the veranda, she waited, certain she’d soon be spotted. She didn’t have to wait long. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, coming up behind her. “Restless night,” Karina replied. A gentle wind blew, carrying his familiar cologne. He watched her carefully. “What do you want from my son, Karina?” Gone was the polite mask—his voice was hard. “I know exactly what you’re capable of. I know how many men like me have crossed your path. It was always about the money, wasn’t it? You hardly hid that. You named your price—discreetly, but clearly. So why Vadik?” If he didn’t want to dwell on the past, neither did she. Karina grinned defiantly. “I love him, Valery Aleksandrovich,” she sang. “Why shouldn’t I?” He was unimpressed. “Love him? You? Don’t make me laugh. I know exactly what kind of woman you are, Karina. And I will tell Vadik everything—who you really are, what you did. Do you think he’ll marry you then?” Karina stepped closer, almost within arm’s length, tilting her head as if studying him anew. “Tell him, Valery Aleksandrovich,” she drawled deliberately, “but if you do, I’ll make sure your wife learns all about our own little adventures.” “That’s—” “That’s not blackmail. That’s mutual destruction. If you tell everyone the circumstances of our meeting, you won’t be able to keep your own secrets either. Believe me, I’ll fill in ALL the blanks.” “That’s not the same…” “Really? Will you tell your wife the same thing?” Valery Aleksandrovich was silent. He realised his threat had failed. She had him right where she wanted. They were in the same boat. “And what exactly are you going to tell her?” “Not just her. Everyone. Vadim too. I’ll tell them what a fine family man you are, how late you ‘worked.’ I’ll tell everything. I’ll have nothing left to lose. Go on, save your son from me. Try.” A terrible choice. To warn his son was to sign his own marital death warrant. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Me? Not dare?” Karina laughed. “So you’re allowed, but I’m not? I’ll keep quiet if you do. But if you out me for being a ‘gold-digger’ while you’ve got so much to hide—well, Nina Petrovna does value loyalty.” Once, blind drunk, he’d confessed to Karina how sorry he was for cheating on his loyal wife. Nina would never forgive. Never. So there really was a choice. He knew Karina was not bluffing. “Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll say nothing. But you—stay silent too. No one says a word. We forget the past.” Which is why Karina never really worried. He had more to lose than she did. “As you wish, Valery Aleksandrovich.” The next morning, they left Vadim’s parents’ house. Under her father-in-law’s well-concealed loathing, Karina said her farewells to his wife, who had already started calling her “daughter.” Valery almost twitched. He tormented himself with his inability to warn his son about her—but exposing her would ruin him, too. Lose Nina, and he’d lose not just a wife, but much of his fortune. She’d never leave empty-handed. And his son would never forgive him… Next time, Karina and Vadim stayed with his parents a full two weeks. A holiday, as they say, in full swing. Valery did his best to avoid Karina, burying himself in endless ‘business.’ But one day, home alone, curiosity got the better of him. He snooped through Karina’s things—makeup bag, organiser, little notebook—until his eyes caught a blue-and-white stick. A pregnancy test. Two clear lines. “I thought the disaster was my son marrying… No, THIS is the real catastrophe!” He put it back, but didn’t manage to close the bag. Karina caught him. “Ah-ah, rummaging through a woman’s bag—naughty,” she scolded, mockingly, but didn’t seem truly upset. Valery didn’t even deny it. “You’re pregnant with Vadik’s baby?” Karina took her bag from his hand, met his gaze, and said: “Looks like you’ve spoiled the surprise, Valery Aleksandrovich.” Valery was furious. Now Karina was truly tied to Vadim. If he spoke out, he’d bring down disaster on his own head. All he could do was keep quiet. But what misery, knowing what a trap his son was in. *** Nine months passed… and then another six. Vadik and Karina were raising Alice. Valery did his best to avoid them—never visiting, never thinking about it. He didn’t consider Alice his granddaughter. And Karina scared him. Her indifference towards Vadik, her shadowy past. Then, yet again. Nina planned to visit Vadik and Karina. “Valery, are you coming?” “No. Still have that headache.” “Again? That’s quite a pattern.” “Just tired, that’s all. You go.” Valery always had an excuse: migraines, colds, earaches, bad legs. He even took pills for effect. He couldn’t bear to see Karina, but he couldn’t tell anyone why. The evening dragged by, full of restless thoughts. He read. Tried to nap. Suddenly he noticed Nina was very late. Eleven at night, and not home. She wasn’t answering her phone. Naturally, he called Vadik. “Vadik, is everything alright? Has Nina left yet? She’s not home.” “Dad, you’re the last person I want to speak to right now.” And hung up… Valery was about to set out for his son’s house when Karina’s car pulled up outside. When he saw Karina, he almost fainted. “What are you doing here? Speak! What’s happened?” Karina looked calm, almost serene. She poured herself some wine. Sat down in comfort. “Catastrophe, that’s what.” “What catastrophe?” “Ours. All of ours. Vadik found photos from four years ago on a café website, from that party at ‘The Oasis’, remember? Vadik wanted to book it for our anniversary, checked their site, and—there we were. Clear as day. The photographer posted everything! Now Vadik is losing his mind. Your Nina’s planning to divorce you. And it looks like, just as you wanted, I’ll be divorcing your son as well.” Valery stared at her, memories and understanding flashing by. That website, that party… He remembered thinking nothing good would come of it, telling them not to photograph anything… But who’d have guessed it would all come together like this? He sat heavily on the floor beside her. “And why have you come to me?” “Wanted to escape the chaos for a bit,” Karina smiled. “It’s a mess at home. Alice is with the nanny. Care for some wine?” She offered him his own bottle. They sat on the veranda, drinking. For a moment, only the song of the crickets connected them. “It’s all your fault,” he said. Karina nodded, eyes on her glass. “Yup.” “You’re insufferable.” “Can’t argue.” “You don’t even feel sorry for Vadik.” “A bit. But more for myself.” “You only love yourself.” “True.” He suddenly reached out and took her chin in his hand, turning her to face him. “You know I never loved you,” he whispered. “I believe you.” *** In the morning, when Nina finally came to make peace—ready to forgive her husband even if it would cost her half her sanity—she found Karina and Valery Aleksandrovich together. Still asleep. “Who’s there?” Karina stirred. “It’s me,” said Nina, looking at the ruins of her life. Karina, seeing her, just smiled serenely. Valery woke up a moment later, but didn’t rush after his wife.

Wife and Father

Charlotte only pretended to want to meet Simons parents. What would she gain from such a visit? Its not as if she planned to move in with them, and the only thing to expect from his fatherrumoured to be well-offwere complications and suspicions.

But if youre playing the marriage game, you have to see it through.

Charlotte dressed up, but nothing fancy, just enough to appear sweet and approachable.

Meeting the grooms parents is always a minefield, but meeting clever parents? Now thats a true ordeal.

Simon thought she needed comforting:

Dont fret, Charlie, just breathe. Dads a bit dour, sure, but hell warm up. They wont say anything too awful. And theyll come to love you. Mums the heart and soul of any partyDads just peculiar, he said as they stood before the family home.

Charlotte just smiled, flicking a stray lock behind her ear. Dour father, lively mothera curious cocktail. She grinned to herself.

The house didnt impress her. Shed seen grander homes.

They greeted her at once.

Charlotte wasnt bothered. Why would she be? Just ordinary people. Susan, as Simon had already mentioned, had been a homemaker for years; hardly worked at all, travelled with her friends from time to time, but nothing out of the ordinary. The father, Harold, well, as advertised, not exactly cheerful, but at least taciturn. His name, though, struck her as oddly familiar

They greeted her

And Charlotte froze, refusing to cross the threshold. This was the end. She didnt know the future mother-in-law, but the father was instantly recognisable. Theyd met before. Three years ago. Not often, but on agreeable enough terms. In pubs, hotels, restaurants. Of course, neither Susan nor Simon had any idea.

Oh dear.

Harold recognised her as well. There was a glimmer in his eyes: surprise, shock, or something murkiersome devious plan, perhaps. But he stayed silent.

Simon, clueless and glowing with joy, made introductions.

Mum, Dad, meet Charlotte. My fiancée. Id have brought her round sooner, but shes ever so shy.

Oh, lovely

Harold offered his hand.

His handshake was strong, maybe a touch too firm.

Pleased to meet you, Charlotte, he said, his tone tinged with something Charlotte couldnt put her finger onanger? Warning? Or

Charlotte wondered how to wriggle out, half-expecting Harold to reveal her identity at any second.

Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Whitmore, she replied, matching the charade, trying not to give herself away. Her nerves screamed as she took his hand. Now what?

Butnothing happened.

Harold forced a smile, then pulled out her chair at the dinner table.

Plotting her public humiliation for later, perhaps

But the evening passed without incident.

Suddenly Charlotte realisedhe wouldnt expose her. To do so would compromise himself, wrecking everything before his wife.

Once she breathed, things relaxed. Susan regaled them with Simons childhood tales while Harold seemed genuinely interested in Charlottes job, asking lots of questions. Ha, he already knew much more than he let on. Still, his thinly veiled sarcasm barely grazed her by now. He even cracked a few jokes, and surprisingly, Charlotte laughed. Though behind every jest was a sly hint that meant something only to the two of them.

Like when he looked straight at her and said:

You know, Charlotte, you remind me greatly of a formercolleague. Quite clever, she was. Always knew how to charm any crowd.

Charlotte kept her composure:

We all have our gifts, Mr. Whitmore.

Simon, ever the love-struck fiancé, gazed at Charlotte, oblivious to any subtext. He truly loved her. That was, perhaps, the bestand saddestthing for him.

Later, as talk turned to travel, Harold fixed Charlotte with a look and said:

I prefer a bit of peace myself. Somewhere quiet, no fussjust time for a good book. How about you, Charlotte? Wheres your haven?

He thought hed trap her.

I like busy places, noise and laughter, Charlotte replied, not falling for his bait. Though sometimes extra ears can be dangerous.

For a fleeting moment, Charlotte caught Susan frowning, troubled by a thought she quickly banished.

Harold knew Charlotte wasnt a silence-seeker. He had his reasons.

As night drew in, and time for bed arrived, Harold hugged Simon.

Take care of her, son. Shesone of a kind.

Both compliment and jab, though only Charlotte caught the full meaning.

Suddenly, the room felt cold. One of a kind. Hed chosen those words.

***

At night, the house heavy with sleep, Charlotte tossed and turned.

She turned over that unexpected encounter again and again, wondering what they would both do now. The prospect of the future appeared bleak. She also guessed Harold, like herself, wasnt sleepingboth locked in dread for very different reasons.

She slipped out of bed, pulled on a hoodie, and crept downstairs. She tread just loud enough that any insomniacs would catch her, and made her way onto the veranda, where she half-expected Harold to join her.

She didnt have to wait long.

Cant sleep? he said quietly, approaching from behind.

Restless night, Charlotte replied.

A gentle breeze carried his cologne.

He studied her.

What do you want with my son, Charlotte? Gone was the mask. I know what youre capable of. I know Im not the firstnor the wealthiestyouve had dealings with. It was always about money, wasnt it? You never really hid it. You quoted your pricealbeit discreetly. Why Simon?

If he wasnt interested in reminiscing, neither was Charlotte inclined to be sweet. She bared her teeth:

I love him, Mr. Whitmore, she sang, Isnt that allowed?

He wasnt buying it.

Love? You? Thats a laugh. I know who you are, Charlotte. And Ill tell Simon everythingwhat you did, who you truly are. Dyou reckon hell marry you then?

Charlotte stepped closer, so only a breath separated them, studying him by moonlight. As though she hadnt seen enough of him before.

Go on then, Mr. Whitmore, she replied, drawing each word out, But your wife will hear the whole tale, tooour little secret.

Thats

Thats not blackmail, it’s parity. If you tell, the whole story comes outyour bit included. And believe me, Ill fill in the gaps.

Thats different

Is it? Will that fly with Susan, do you think?

Harold fell silent. Trying to frighten Charlotte had flopped. He realised hed been cornerednow shackled to her fate.

What would you even tell her?

Not just her. Everyone. Simon too. Ill tell them what sort of husband you arehow late you worked all those nights. Everything. Lose your son, or lose much more? If you want to save Simon from me, have at it.

A stiff choice.

If he talked Simon out of the marriage, the price would be his own divorce.

You wouldnt dare.

I wouldnt? Charlotte actually laughedso hed dare, but not her? Lets just say I have every reason not to, if you keep silent. If you dont get sanctimonious about my supposed greednot when youre the one with so much at stake. Susan does value fidelity above all, after all.

She remembered him, once deeply drunk, weeping over his guiltsuch a faithful wife, such a cad was he. Susan would never forgive, not ever. So yes, he really did have to choose.

He knew Charlotte wasnt bluffing.

All right, he managed, I wont say a word. And youstay quiet as well. No one needs to know. Lets draw a line under it.

Thats why Charlotte was so at ease. He stood to lose far more.

Whatever you say, Mr. Whitmore.

The following morning, they left Simons parents house. With her future father-in-laws burning stare at her back, Charlotte said farewell to Susan, whod already dubbed her daughter. Harolds eye twitched at the word.

He suffered knowing he could not warn his son, afraid his own ruin would soon follow. Losing Susan meant losing half his fortunenot to mention his wife. And Simon might never forgive him.

Another time, Charlotte and Simon stayed at his parents place for a fortnight.

Blissful English holiday.

Harold kept his distance, blaming constant business. But one day, home alone, curiosity got the better of him. He riffled through Charlottes handbag, hoping for leverage.

He checked her makeup, organiser, and a little notepad. Suddenly his gaze snagged on a white-and-blue objecta pregnancy test. Two unmistakable lines.

I thought Simon marrying you was disaster enoughnot this! No, this is a catastrophe! He put the test backbut didnt manage to close the bag.

He was caught.

My, mysnooping around is terribly rude, Mr. Whitmore, Charlotte mocked. She didnt seem all that bothered.

Harold didnt bother denying it.

Are you pregnant? Is it Simons?

Charlotte strolled over, took her bag, looked him in the eye:

Looks like youve spoiled the surprise, Mr. Whitmore.

He was livid. Now hed never be rid of her. Now, if he talked, everythingeverythingwould unravel. All he could do now was bite his tongue and watch his son step straight into the trap.

***

Nine months passedand half a year more.

Simon and Charlotte were raising Alice.

Harold did his best to avoid them, not wishing to see, not wishing to know. Even the granddaughtershe didnt feel like family. Charlotte unnerved him. Her indifference toward Simon, her shadowy past.

Then again.

Susan packed to visit Simon and Charlotte.

Are you coming, Harold?

No, migraine.

Again? Thats sounding quite serious.

Just tired, thats all. You go without me.

He always made excusesflu, migraine, earache, dodgy knee. He even popped paracetamol for good measure. He couldnt bear to see Charlotte. But he couldnt bear to confess, either.

Dreary evening. Agitated thoughts.

Lay down. Tried to read.

Then he noticed just how late Susan was. Eleven at nightno sign. Mobile off. He rang Simon.

You all right, lad? Has your mum left yet? Shes not home.

Youre the last person I want to speak to right now, Dad.

Click.

Harold was about to drive over when a car pulled up outside. Charlottes.

He felt dread coil in his stomach, but tried to sound authoritative as she came in.

What do you want? Tell me! What happened?

Charlotte, calm as always, poured herself a glass of wine, settled in.

Collapse, Harold.

What collapse?

Ours. All of us. Simon stumbled upon old photos from some party at the Oasis café four years back. Was planning to take me there for our anniversary. Checked their websiteand guess whos front and centre? Us. In all our glory. The photographercurse himposted every shot. Simons furious. Your Susans talking divorce. And, as you always hoped, looks like Im splitting from Simon too.

Harold gaped at her. A string of memories flashed: the café website, that partyhe remembered begging the photographer not to take pictures. Whod have thought events would align so fatefully!

He slumped down beside her, on the floor.

So why come here?

I fancied getting away this evening, Charlotte smiled. Things at home are in chaos. Alice is with the nanny. Care for some wine?

She poured him his own.

They sat on the veranda, drinking. The only company was the distant scraping of hedgehogs in the grass.

Its all your fault, Harold muttered.

Charlotte nodded, staring into her glass.

Indeed.

Youre insufferable.

No argument there.

You dont even care about Simon.

I do. But I care more about myself.

You only love yourself.

Agreed.

He suddenly reached out, lifted her chin, made her look at him.

You know I never loved you, he whispered.

I believe it.

***

The next morning Susan returned, determined to make peace, even at the price of half her nerve fibres, only to find Charlotte and Harold sleepingtogether.

Whos there? Charlotte mumbled.

Me, Susan answered, watching her marriage unravel.

Charlotte simply smiled. Harold woke later, but never went after his wife.

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The Fiancée and the Father Karina only pretended to want to meet Vadim’s parents. Honestly, why should she care about them? She’s not going to live with them, and as for his father—who, apparently, is quite well-off—she’d get nothing but trouble and suspicion from him. Still, once you’ve decided to marry, you have to play the part to the end. Karina dressed up, but kept things simple, hoping to make a sweet impression. Meeting your fiancé’s parents is always a tricky event full of hidden pitfalls, but meeting clever parents? That’s a true test of character. Vadim thought she needed reassurance. “Don’t worry, Karina—really, don’t. Dad’s a bit of a grump, but reasonable. They won’t say anything awful. And they’ll love you, I promise! Dad is strange, sure, but Mum is the life of the party,” he assured her outside his parents’ house. Karina just smiled, flipping a lock of hair off her shoulder. Well, Dad’s gloomy and Mum’s the soul of the company. Quite the combination, she thought wryly. The house didn’t impress her. She’d seen grander places. They were greeted at once. Karina wasn’t particularly nervous. Why should she be? Ordinary people, after all. Nina Petrovna, as Vadim had already mentioned, had spent years as a housewife, hardly working at all, sometimes off on trips with friends, but nothing remarkable. The father, Valery Aleksandrovich, was said to be not much fun, but at least he was quiet. Though, his name did sound oddly familiar… They were welcomed in… And Karina stopped dead, freezing on the doorstep. This was the end. She didn’t know her future mother-in-law, but the father-in-law she recognised in an instant… They’d already met. Three years ago. Not often, but certainly mutually beneficial. Bars, hotels, restaurants. Naturally, neither Valery’s wife nor his son knew about their acquaintance. Here we go. Valery recognised her too. There was a flash in his eyes—surprise, shock, maybe something darker, perhaps plans already forming—but he kept silent. Vadim, oblivious, cheerfully introduced her to his parents. “Mum, Dad, this is Karina. My fiancée. I’d have brought her before, but she’s so terribly shy.” Oh dear… Valery Aleksandrovich shook her hand. His grip was firm, almost hard. “Very pleased to meet you, Karina,” he said, with an almost imperceptible note of…something Karina couldn’t quite pin down. Anger? A warning? Or… Karina braced herself, waiting for Valery to reveal who she really was. “Very pleased to meet you, Valery Aleksandrovich,” Karina replied, trying to play along and avoid immediate discovery. She squeezed his hand, feeling the rush of adrenaline. What’s going to happen now… Nothing. Valery managed a semblance of a smile, then pulled out a chair for her at the table. Perhaps he was saving up her shame for later… But nothing happened. Then it hit Karina—of course he wouldn’t say a word. If he revealed her, he’d have to reveal himself to his wife. Once she relaxed, things seemed fairly cordial. Nina Petrovna shared childhood stories about Vadim, and Valery Aleksandrovich appeared to listen to Karina with keen interest, asking about her work. Oh, he knew quite a bit about her. But his subtle irony no longer stung. He even cracked a few jokes; to her own surprise, Karina laughed. His jokes, though, were laced with nuances only the two of them understood. For example, when he looked at Karina and said: “You remind me of an old…colleague of mine, Karina. Very clever. Knew how to deal with people. All sorts of people.” Karina didn’t miss a beat. “Everyone has their own talents, Valery Aleksandrovich.” Vadim, completely smitten, gazed at Karina in adoration, missing all the undercurrents. He really loved her. And that was perhaps the most important—and most bitter—thing. For him. Later, the conversation turned to travel, and Valery Aleksandrovich, eyeing Karina, remarked: “I prefer secluded places. No fuss, no crowds. A good spot to sit and think. Especially with the right book. And you, Karina, what sort of places do you like?” A trap. “I like it lively—people everywhere, a bit of noise and fun,” answered Karina, refusing to be drawn in. “Although, sometimes, a few too many ears isn’t always safe.” For a moment—just the briefest flicker—Nina seemed to notice something. Karina saw the future mother-in-law frown, only to shrug off some uncomfortable thought. Valery Aleksandrovich knew Karina wasn’t one for quiet. He knew exactly why. When the evening ended and it was time for bed, Valery Aleksandrovich hugged Vadim. “Take care of her, son. She’s… special.” It sounded both like praise and mockery—though only Karina understood. She felt the temperature in the room drop. “Special.” That choice of word. *** That night, after the house fell asleep, Karina lay awake, thinking over their unexpected meeting and how to cope with these new realities. The future looked grim. She suspected Valery Aleksandrovich wasn’t sleeping either—for the same uneasy reasons. She slipped out, pulled on a hoodie over her tee and shorts, and padded down the stairs, making just enough noise to alert any fellow night owl. Out on the veranda, she waited, certain she’d soon be spotted. She didn’t have to wait long. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, coming up behind her. “Restless night,” Karina replied. A gentle wind blew, carrying his familiar cologne. He watched her carefully. “What do you want from my son, Karina?” Gone was the polite mask—his voice was hard. “I know exactly what you’re capable of. I know how many men like me have crossed your path. It was always about the money, wasn’t it? You hardly hid that. You named your price—discreetly, but clearly. So why Vadik?” If he didn’t want to dwell on the past, neither did she. Karina grinned defiantly. “I love him, Valery Aleksandrovich,” she sang. “Why shouldn’t I?” He was unimpressed. “Love him? You? Don’t make me laugh. I know exactly what kind of woman you are, Karina. And I will tell Vadik everything—who you really are, what you did. Do you think he’ll marry you then?” Karina stepped closer, almost within arm’s length, tilting her head as if studying him anew. “Tell him, Valery Aleksandrovich,” she drawled deliberately, “but if you do, I’ll make sure your wife learns all about our own little adventures.” “That’s—” “That’s not blackmail. That’s mutual destruction. If you tell everyone the circumstances of our meeting, you won’t be able to keep your own secrets either. Believe me, I’ll fill in ALL the blanks.” “That’s not the same…” “Really? Will you tell your wife the same thing?” Valery Aleksandrovich was silent. He realised his threat had failed. She had him right where she wanted. They were in the same boat. “And what exactly are you going to tell her?” “Not just her. Everyone. Vadim too. I’ll tell them what a fine family man you are, how late you ‘worked.’ I’ll tell everything. I’ll have nothing left to lose. Go on, save your son from me. Try.” A terrible choice. To warn his son was to sign his own marital death warrant. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Me? Not dare?” Karina laughed. “So you’re allowed, but I’m not? I’ll keep quiet if you do. But if you out me for being a ‘gold-digger’ while you’ve got so much to hide—well, Nina Petrovna does value loyalty.” Once, blind drunk, he’d confessed to Karina how sorry he was for cheating on his loyal wife. Nina would never forgive. Never. So there really was a choice. He knew Karina was not bluffing. “Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll say nothing. But you—stay silent too. No one says a word. We forget the past.” Which is why Karina never really worried. He had more to lose than she did. “As you wish, Valery Aleksandrovich.” The next morning, they left Vadim’s parents’ house. Under her father-in-law’s well-concealed loathing, Karina said her farewells to his wife, who had already started calling her “daughter.” Valery almost twitched. He tormented himself with his inability to warn his son about her—but exposing her would ruin him, too. Lose Nina, and he’d lose not just a wife, but much of his fortune. She’d never leave empty-handed. And his son would never forgive him… Next time, Karina and Vadim stayed with his parents a full two weeks. A holiday, as they say, in full swing. Valery did his best to avoid Karina, burying himself in endless ‘business.’ But one day, home alone, curiosity got the better of him. He snooped through Karina’s things—makeup bag, organiser, little notebook—until his eyes caught a blue-and-white stick. A pregnancy test. Two clear lines. “I thought the disaster was my son marrying… No, THIS is the real catastrophe!” He put it back, but didn’t manage to close the bag. Karina caught him. “Ah-ah, rummaging through a woman’s bag—naughty,” she scolded, mockingly, but didn’t seem truly upset. Valery didn’t even deny it. “You’re pregnant with Vadik’s baby?” Karina took her bag from his hand, met his gaze, and said: “Looks like you’ve spoiled the surprise, Valery Aleksandrovich.” Valery was furious. Now Karina was truly tied to Vadim. If he spoke out, he’d bring down disaster on his own head. All he could do was keep quiet. But what misery, knowing what a trap his son was in. *** Nine months passed… and then another six. Vadik and Karina were raising Alice. Valery did his best to avoid them—never visiting, never thinking about it. He didn’t consider Alice his granddaughter. And Karina scared him. Her indifference towards Vadik, her shadowy past. Then, yet again. Nina planned to visit Vadik and Karina. “Valery, are you coming?” “No. Still have that headache.” “Again? That’s quite a pattern.” “Just tired, that’s all. You go.” Valery always had an excuse: migraines, colds, earaches, bad legs. He even took pills for effect. He couldn’t bear to see Karina, but he couldn’t tell anyone why. The evening dragged by, full of restless thoughts. He read. Tried to nap. Suddenly he noticed Nina was very late. Eleven at night, and not home. She wasn’t answering her phone. Naturally, he called Vadik. “Vadik, is everything alright? Has Nina left yet? She’s not home.” “Dad, you’re the last person I want to speak to right now.” And hung up… Valery was about to set out for his son’s house when Karina’s car pulled up outside. When he saw Karina, he almost fainted. “What are you doing here? Speak! What’s happened?” Karina looked calm, almost serene. She poured herself some wine. Sat down in comfort. “Catastrophe, that’s what.” “What catastrophe?” “Ours. All of ours. Vadik found photos from four years ago on a café website, from that party at ‘The Oasis’, remember? Vadik wanted to book it for our anniversary, checked their site, and—there we were. Clear as day. The photographer posted everything! Now Vadik is losing his mind. Your Nina’s planning to divorce you. And it looks like, just as you wanted, I’ll be divorcing your son as well.” Valery stared at her, memories and understanding flashing by. That website, that party… He remembered thinking nothing good would come of it, telling them not to photograph anything… But who’d have guessed it would all come together like this? He sat heavily on the floor beside her. “And why have you come to me?” “Wanted to escape the chaos for a bit,” Karina smiled. “It’s a mess at home. Alice is with the nanny. Care for some wine?” She offered him his own bottle. They sat on the veranda, drinking. For a moment, only the song of the crickets connected them. “It’s all your fault,” he said. Karina nodded, eyes on her glass. “Yup.” “You’re insufferable.” “Can’t argue.” “You don’t even feel sorry for Vadik.” “A bit. But more for myself.” “You only love yourself.” “True.” He suddenly reached out and took her chin in his hand, turning her to face him. “You know I never loved you,” he whispered. “I believe you.” *** In the morning, when Nina finally came to make peace—ready to forgive her husband even if it would cost her half her sanity—she found Karina and Valery Aleksandrovich together. Still asleep. “Who’s there?” Karina stirred. “It’s me,” said Nina, looking at the ruins of her life. Karina, seeing her, just smiled serenely. Valery woke up a moment later, but didn’t rush after his wife.