CHAPTER 2 — The Trap Begins
For the next three weeks, Yulia became the perfect wife.
And Boris never noticed.
She cooked.
She smiled.
She listened to his complaints.
She even pretended to support his “business dream.”
One evening, Boris came home excited.
“I found a great opportunity.”
Yulia looked up from her book.
“What kind?”
“A repair shop. A small one. The owner wants to sell.”
“That sounds expensive.”
Boris sat beside her.
“That’s why I need your help.”
There it was.
The moment she had been waiting for.
“What kind of help?”
Boris looked at her apartment documents on the table.
“We could finally make a decision about your apartment.”
Yulia looked at him.
“My apartment?”
“Our apartment,” Boris corrected.
She smiled.
“Right. Our apartment.”
Inside, she felt nothing.
Because now she knew.
He never loved what they built together.
He loved what he could take from her.
“I need time to think,” Yulia said.
Boris frowned.
“Think about what?”
“Everything.”
That answer made him uncomfortable.
Because for the first time, he realized Yulia was no longer predictable.
Meanwhile, Yulia continued gathering evidence.
She contacted a lawyer.
Not to file for divorce immediately.
Not yet.
She wanted something better.
She wanted Boris to lose everything he thought he had already won.
The lawyer reviewed the documents carefully.
“Yulia, your husband has been transferring money to another woman for years.”
“I know.”
“And there is evidence that he planned to use your apartment as financial support for them.”
“I know.”
The lawyer looked at her.
“You’re surprisingly calm.”
Yulia looked out the window.
“Because I already cried enough.”
A few days later, Boris announced that Polina and her son would temporarily stay at his mother’s apartment.
He expected Yulia to become angry.
Instead, she surprised him.
“That’s fine.”
Boris stared.
“Fine?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not upset?”
Yulia smiled.
“Why would I be?”
Boris relaxed.
He thought she had accepted it.
But he did not know Yulia had already prepared the next step.
She contacted the bank.
She separated her finances.
She protected her property.
She removed Boris’s access to anything connected to her apartment.
Then she waited.
The perfect moment.
That moment came when Boris invited her to dinner.
A celebration.
“I have good news,” he said proudly.
“What news?”
“I found a buyer interested in the apartment.”
Yulia slowly placed her glass down.
“A buyer?”
“Yes. We can finally move forward.”
She looked at him.
Then she smiled.
“Actually, Boris... I have good news too.”
He laughed.
“What is it?”
“I already sold it.”
The smile disappeared from his face.
“What?”
“My apartment.”
Boris stood up.
“You sold it? Without telling me?”
Yulia tilted her head.
“Why would I need your permission?”
The room became silent.
Because suddenly...
the rules had changed.
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Boris was no longer the person controlling the situation.
He was the person trapped inside it.
