The commuter train to Solnechnogorsk was nearly empty, even though it was Friday.
Anna slid into a seat by the window, tugged at her worn jacket, and gave her own reflection a crooked smile. Only a month earlier, she’d been flying business class to Dubai to negotiate with Arab investors. Now she was “saving money” by skipping a taxi.
Except she wasn’t saving at all…
The whole fake-bankruptcy story had come to her on the spot—right when her patience finally ran out.
For the past three months her husband had been darker than a storm cloud, snapping over nonsense and bringing up more and more often how degrading it was to ask his wife for spending money. Yet no one had ever demeaned him. Anna simply kept a close eye on their household finances because she knew how to count. He didn’t.
And she still remembered perfectly how, two years earlier, Igor had “played around a little” in the market and managed to blow half a million in a single month. Back then he’d sworn he’d never touch investments again behind her back. But promises were easy…
“Anya, you have to understand—I don’t feel like a man,” he’d complained not long ago, pacing their Moscow kitchen. “All my friends have their own money, and I’m like some kept companion.”
“You have a good salary,” Anna had repeated patiently, stirring her coffee. “And you help me a lot with the business. Without your connections, I wouldn’t have landed half my contracts.”
It was true.
Igor really was a valuable partner—charming, technically educated, and unusually gifted at finding common language even with the most difficult clients. Her IT company had thrived in many ways thanks to his efforts.
But three months ago, something shifted…
Igor started refusing business trips, stopped going to client meetings, and whenever Anna asked what was wrong, he either brushed her off or erupted, ranting about how financially dependent he was.
The train suddenly rocked on a bend. Anna tightened her grip on the shabby little purse in her lap. Inside were only her phone and a few coins to complete the image. Her real documents and bank cards were locked at home in the safe.
“Igoryok, I’m on the verge of bankruptcy,” she’d told him the day before. “A big contract with the Chinese collapsed, and now there are issues with the tax office. I need to be alone for a bit. I have to think about what I’ll do next.”
His answer had shocked her:
“Don’t worry, sunshine. It’ll work out. If you need anything, I’m here. We’ll figure it out together.”
It was strange to hear that kind of tenderness from a man who, for months, had barely spoken to her.
Outside the window, dacha settlements flickered past under the warm yellow glow of streetlamps.
Anna tried to imagine what she’d do if her suspicions proved wrong. Apologize for doubting him? Admit she’d staged the whole thing?
And if they proved right…
She didn’t want to think about it. Fifteen years of marriage couldn’t end because of a suspicion.
And yet lately Igor had been acting genuinely odd: constantly tapping away at his phone, smoking again despite quitting back in college, and disappearing on mysterious “errands” that never sounded convincing.
The train rolled into the station.
Anna stepped onto the platform and looked around. Their summer house was twenty minutes away on foot, down a familiar road.
Walking along the dark trail between the pines, she suddenly realized just how tired she was of all the games and half-truths. She wanted to come home, wrap her arms around her husband, and hear:
“It’s okay. We’ll handle it.”
At last their country house appeared around the bend. Light glowed in the windows. Two cars were parked by the gate—Igor’s, and a black foreign sedan she had never seen before.
So he had guests.
Anna approached carefully and immediately noticed the front door was slightly open. Strange. Igor always locked up—especially on weekends when they came out here.
She slipped onto the porch and listened.
Voices drifted from the living room. Igor was speaking animatedly with someone.
“…the documentation is complete, naturally,” her husband was saying. “Source code, technical description, algorithms—everything is in perfect shape.”
Her heart gave a sharp twinge. Anna understood instantly what he meant.
“And what about copyrights?” an unfamiliar male voice asked. “Officially, your wife is the developer.”
“That’s not an issue,” Igor laughed. “She’s in such a state she’d sell her own mother to cover her debts. Bankruptcy is serious. Besides, I’m officially employed at her company—I participated in development. Legally it’ll be clean.”
Anna leaned slowly against the wall. Her thoughts swirled into chaos.
“One hundred million… that’s the final figure?” she heard another stranger ask.
“For you—yes,” Igor replied confidently. “Truth is, the Chinese were ready to pay more. But there’s too much bureaucracy with them. That doesn’t work for me. With you, it’s fast and without pointless questions.”
“Well, we appreciate you choosing us,” the first man said with smug satisfaction. “Especially since this is an important acquisition for us. This app could seriously strengthen our market position.”
Anna’s legs almost gave way. She knew exactly who they were.
Vladimir and Denis Krasnov—twin brothers, owners of a rival IT firm who had spent the last two years trying to poach her top staff, sabotage tenders, and obstruct her company at every turn.
And now the man closest to her was calmly discussing the sale of her main product with them.
“You see, my wife pushed me to the edge with all her control,” Igor went on. “Forced me into this. She blocked my cards, won’t let me develop, and then acts surprised when I look for additional income. You can’t treat a man that way!”
“That’s your problem,” Vladimir replied coolly. “Family matters are personal. We’re interested only in the business side. And besides… we’re not stealing anything. We’re paying fairly for the product. The fact that your wife isn’t aware of the deal details is none of our concern.”
Anna shut her eyes.
A year and a half of work. Sleepless nights over the code. Dozens of meetings with analysts. Testing, revisions, presentations. All of it was supposed to be her breakthrough—the step that would elevate the company to a new level.
And Igor was selling it to her competitors right behind her back.
“When can you give us access to the servers?” Vladimir asked.
“Within a week, I think,” Igor answered without hesitation. “She isn’t checking logs right now—she’s panicking about bankruptcy. I’ll quietly copy everything we need.”
“Excellent. Then in a week we’ll transfer the first installment—thirty million. You’ll get the rest after we receive the full package and test the app.”
“Perfect!” Igor sounded delighted with himself. “Honestly, I’m even glad this happened. Finally I’ll get what I deserve!”
Anna turned and quietly headed for the exit. She had to leave before anyone noticed her. She needed to think—fast.
Behind her, the conversation continued: technical details, file transfers, timelines for paperwork. Igor’s voice was upbeat and confident—the way he always sounded when he negotiated profitable deals for her company.
Only now he was negotiating a deal against her.
Anna slipped out of the house and walked toward the gate. She wanted to scream, but she had trained herself to keep her emotions on a tight leash. In her mind, a cold, calculated plan took shape. She pulled out her phone and called a taxi.
All the way back to Moscow, Anna stared out the window and thought.
Fifteen years of marriage. Fifteen years of trust. And this was the result: her husband was secretly selling her key development to her rivals—like a rat in the walls.
At first she thought she’d go home, drink wine, and cry until she couldn’t breathe. Then another thought cut through: why?
Igor clearly wasn’t planning to confess anything. He would keep playing the caring husband, the devoted partner looking for ways to help his wife through a crisis.
No. If he wanted to play dirty, she could play too.
She arrived at the office after midnight. The night security guard didn’t even blink—he was used to the director working late. Anna went straight up to her floor and turned on her computer.
She opened the folder with the app’s source code and copied it to an external drive. Then she began rewriting it.
The key was not to overdo it.
Anna wanted the software to look perfect on the surface—launch cleanly, show no obvious errors—while producing the wrong results. So she altered a few core functions in the algorithm and added extra operations that slowed down data processing. On top of that, she distorted the formulas used for analytical calculations so the final numbers would be off by about twenty percent.
At a glance, everything looked normal. But the moment the Krasnovs tried to run the app in a real business environment, they’d get a very unpleasant surprise.
She spent two full hours on the changes—and, to her own shock, enjoyed every minute.
After that, Anna opened the safe and took out a mini camera she’d bought six months earlier. It hadn’t been useful then, but now its time had come.
She hid it on a bookshelf and set it to record automatically.
“Well then, my dear,” she murmured to herself, “let’s see what you do now.”
Anna got home around three in the morning. Igor was asleep and didn’t even stir when she climbed into bed.
In the morning, he was almost theatrically attentive: he brewed coffee, brought breakfast to bed, and asked how she felt.
“Anya, don’t worry so much,” he said, stroking her hair. “Everything will settle down. I’m sure we’ll find a way.”
“What way?” she asked wearily.
“I don’t know yet. But we’ll come up with something. Maybe we really should sell some developments. Not the important ones, of course.”
Anna nodded as if resigned.
“Maybe. But not now. I need time to think.”
The next day she came to the office around lunchtime. Igor hovered nearby all day, offering help, asking how things were going. By evening he was visibly restless.
“Listen, Anya—what if I meet up with Petya tonight?” he asked out of nowhere. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. You should get a break.”
Igor left around eight. Anna worked another half hour, then told her secretary she was heading home—but instead she went down to the café on the first floor, ordered coffee, and sat by the window overlooking the parking lot.
At nine o’clock she spotted a familiar car. Igor parked and hurried toward the entrance of the office building.
Anna finished her coffee and went upstairs. Light was on in her office. She walked quietly to the door and pressed the handle.
Igor was sitting at her computer with his back to her. The screen showed folders filled with the app’s source code. A flash drive lay beside the keyboard.
“Hi,” Anna said with a smirk.
Igor jolted in his chair like he’d been scalded.
He turned around. His face went chalk-white. For a second he froze—then started hurriedly closing windows on the computer.
“Anya! You scared me,” he tried to smile. “I thought you went home.”
“I did. Then I came back. Forgot some documents,” she said calmly, not moving. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you going to meet Petya at a bar?”
“Yes—yes, of course!” Igor yanked the flash drive from the computer and shoved it into his pocket. “I just stopped by… wanted to look at our financial reports. To understand how bad things are. You know I’ve been distant from the business processes lately.”
“I see. And why do you need the flash drive?”
“The flash drive?” He glanced at his pocket, playing dumb. “Oh—nothing. I copied something to analyze.”
“What exactly?”
“Reports. Documents…” He shifted from foot to foot, nervous.
Anna walked slowly to her desk and sat down in her chair.
“Igor, what time are you meeting Petya today?”
“Well… we probably won’t now. It’s late.”
“It’s only nine.”
“But he has small kids, he rushes home early,” Igor said, tangling himself deeper in his own lies.
“Igor.” Anna sighed and looked him straight in the eyes. “Stop lying. I know everything.”
He went still.
“About what?”
“About your meeting with the Krasnovs at the dacha. About the hundred million for my app. About you copying the source code onto a flash drive just now.”
Igor’s expression changed instantly—confusion hardened into anger.
“You were spying on me?” he snapped.
“I overheard you by accident. I stood in the hallway of our country house and listened to my husband selling my work behind my back.”
“So you were eavesdropping like some…”
“Like some what?” Anna cut him off. “Finish the sentence.”
Igor’s fingers twitched helplessly.
“Anya, listen. I was trying to help you!”
“Help me—by selling my development to competitors?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” he suddenly shouted. “You put me in this position! You blocked all my cards, controlled every penny! I can’t even buy coffee without reporting to you!”
“You have a salary—”
“A salary!” He laughed bitterly. “That’s not a salary, sweetheart. That’s spare change. You decide everything for me! Am I even a man in this house?”
“You’re the man who blew half a million on the market two years ago!”
“And what? I made one mistake! Big deal! But ever since then you’ve treated me like I’m contagious. You won’t let me grow!”
Anna stared at him, stunned by his audacity.
“Grow? By betraying me?”
“This isn’t betrayal!” Igor waved his arms wildly. “I was trying to earn money for the family! To prove I’m capable of more than being your assistant! I wanted to make money on crypto. That’s all!”
“By selling my copyrighted product?”
“Yours, yours!” he mocked her. “Everything is yours! And what am I—nobody? I brought you contacts, I brought clients, I helped build the turnover! But it’s your company, your development!”
“So you decided you could take it without asking?”
“I decided to finally be independent!” Igor yelled. “If you’d let me invest normally, try trading, test myself, I wouldn’t have—”
“Wouldn’t have betrayed me?” Anna shot back. “Is that what you mean?”
“I wouldn’t have betrayed you! Because I’d feel like a man. Because I could influence our business!”
“Our?” Anna let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. “A second ago you said it was only my business!”
“Anya, just understand—”
“No. You understand. I was trying to protect you—to keep you from draining all our money again. And you call that humiliation?”
“Because it is humiliation!” he shouted. “When a man can’t control money in his own home!”
“Oh really? And did you earn that money?”
“I helped you earn it!”
“You helped. But that gives you zero right to steal my work!”
“You don’t get it!” Igor exhaled, desperate. “I didn’t do it out of malice! I had no other way!”
“What other way?” Anna crossed her arms and stared at him.
“When you blocked my cards, I… I got so angry I borrowed money. I wanted to prove I could earn on my own.”
“And?”
“I put it into crypto. I thought I’d hit big fast and repay it. But a week ago the market crashed. Completely. I lost almost everything.”
A coldness spread through Anna’s chest. Her intuition hadn’t failed her.
“How much did you borrow?”
“Thirty million,” Igor admitted quietly.
“From whom?”
“From… people who don’t like waiting.”
“Oh my God.” Anna sank into the chair. “Igor, do you understand what you’ve done?”
“I do! That’s why when you told me about bankruptcy, I decided to solve two problems at once: sell your app, cover my personal debts, and give you money to save the business.”
“You wanted to ‘save’ me with money from selling my own work?”
“What else could I do? In a week those people will come for the debt. Hard.”
Anna was silent, processing. So it was even worse than she’d feared.
“Anya,” Igor went on, “I know I was wrong. But I was desperate! You said you were bankrupt!”
“Igor,” she said wearily, “I’m not bankrupt.”
He froze.
“What?”
“I never had problems with the Chinese. They just postponed the project until spring. I lied because I wanted to test you.”
“So you… did it on purpose?”
“On purpose. And now I see what you’re capable of for money.”
He looked lost, unable to find words.
“How sad,” Anna said with a thin smile. “You were ready to sell my work, deceive me, ruin my position with competitors—all to pay for your latest gamble.”
“Anya, forgive me…”
“You know what,” she said, pulling out her phone and opening her banking app. “For the years you truly helped me in the business, I’ll cover your debt.”
Igor lifted his head, hope flashing in his eyes.
“Really?”
“Really. Tomorrow I’ll transfer you thirty million rubles. Your debt will be cleared.”
“Anya, thank you! I knew you—”
“But,” she cut him off, “I never want to see you again.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tomorrow I’m filing for divorce. And don’t try to talk me out of it.”
Igor stayed quiet for a few seconds, then exhaled.
“I understand,” he said softly. “You’re probably right.”
Six months later, Anna sat on the terrace of her country house, sipping her morning coffee. The divorce had gone surprisingly smoothly. Igor didn’t demand anything and didn’t contest a thing—apparently aware he wasn’t in a position to.
The court divided the assets fairly: the Moscow apartment went to him; the country house and the business stayed with her.
The mobile analytics app launched in April and was already bringing in steady profit. The Chinese resumed negotiations and offered even better terms.
And the Krasnov brothers, by the way, never did understand why Igor suddenly backed out of the deal. They had to look for developers elsewhere.
Anna finished her coffee and opened her laptop. A pile of interesting projects was waiting for her.
Life without constant tension and distrust turned out to be much calmer.
And undeniably happier.
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