He thought he could steal everything — until I turned the tables.
“You wanted to take my apartment and my savings? A pity I turned out to be more farsighted, isn’t it, Maxim?”
That was the last thing I said before he realized he’d lost. Completely.
But a week earlier, I was still waking up beside him — the man I thought I loved. The morning light crept through the curtains, and Maxim lay beside me, his arms thrown carelessly over the blanket like nothing in the world could touch him. Three years ago, I had let him move into my home. Now it felt like I was the guest.
“Lena, did you remember my mom’s request?” he called from the bedroom.
I froze. Another twenty thousand rubles — the third “treatment loan” in six months. None of the others had ever been repaid.
“What request?” I said evenly, bringing my coffee to the bedside.
“You said you’d think about it. Mom really needs the money.”
I stared at him. “Maxim, your family’s borrowed a hundred thousand this year. Not a single ruble back.”
He smiled that easy, infuriating smile. “We’re family, Lena. You earn more than me. You can afford it.”
That was the moment something inside me cracked. For years, I’d shouldered everything — bills, groceries, gifts for his mother, his “business investments.” I worked; he played the doting husband. But suddenly, his charm felt fake. Rehearsed.
Later that day, I stopped at a café between meetings. The place was nearly empty — just me, my cappuccino, and a moment’s silence. Until I saw him.
Maxim.
Sitting across from a blonde woman I didn’t recognize.
“Everything’s going according to plan,” he said, smiling at her. “Just one more signature.”
“She doesn’t suspect anything?” the woman asked.
“Lena? No. She’s too busy with work. Once she signs the papers, I get the apartment and all the savings.”
My heart stopped.
“Seven million,” the blonde whispered.
“Not bad for three years of patience,” Maxim said. “Do you know how hard it is pretending to be the perfect husband?”
I couldn’t breathe. The café walls closed in. Every kiss, every “I love you” — all of it was a setup.
I didn’t confront him that day. I played along. For a week, I smiled. Cooked dinner. Kissed him goodnight.
But while he slept, I moved every cent of our money into my personal account. The apartment documents went to my mother. I sealed everything.
On Saturday morning, he stormed into the kitchen. “Where’s the money?!” he screamed.
I smiled. “You mean my money?”
He thought I was the fool. He never saw this coming.
Full story — including the twist that left Maxim speechless — continues in the comments!👇