Alexey settled by the window, watching the commotion in the courtyard.
The wind gently swayed the branches of the old maple, casting whimsical shadows on the pavement.
Every corner of this apartment held memories — that’s where his father loved to read the newspaper, and here, his mother always placed her favorite violets…
Three months had passed since the accident, yet Alexey still felt like his parents might appear in the room at any moment.
“Lyoshka, I brought your favorite carrot cake!” — Olga’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Alexey turned his wheelchair.
Olga moved through the room like a butterfly: setting out cups, folding napkins.
She radiated a special kind of energy that could warm even the gloomiest day.
“You’re a real magician,” Alexey smiled.
“For you — anything,” Olga sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“You know, I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time we got married?”
Alexey almost choked on his tea:
“What, right now?”
“Why not?” Olga tousled his hair affectionately.
“If two people love each other, why wait? Life is so short…”
Her voice was sincere, but something inside Alexey twisted.
Three months — is that too fast? Though he couldn’t deny that these three months had turned his life upside down.
After the accident that left him wheelchair-bound and without parents, it felt like everything was over.
But then came Olga — bright, caring, full of life.
“Maybe we should sign a prenuptial agreement first?” Alexey suggested cautiously.
“Just for clarity’s sake.”
Olga’s face changed instantly. She pulled away sharply:
“You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not about trust, it’s just common these days…”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” — Olga jumped up and began pacing nervously.
“I’m giving you all of myself, caring, loving you, and you reduce our love to some paperwork?”
She knelt before his chair, gripping his hands:
“Darling, why bother with such nonsense? I’m not here for the money or the apartment. I just want to be with you.”
Lately, Alexey had noticed strange things. Olga often asked about finances, the apartment documents.
And recently, she started chatting with his cousins, Igor and Roman — the very ones who tried to claim his inheritance after his parents’ death.
“Your brothers are so kind,” Olga had once said. “Especially Igor. He told me how inseparable you two were as kids.”
Alexey winced:
“Inseparable? They only showed up for the inheritance. Before that, they didn’t care I existed.”
“Come on, they truly care,” Olga said, sitting on the armrest of his chair.
“By the way, I was thinking… maybe we should consider moving?”
“Moving? Why?”
“This apartment is too big for us. And the neighborhood is so noisy…”
“This place is fitted for the wheelchair,” Alexey frowned. “And my parents put so much effort into the renovations…”
“I’m just thinking about the future,” Olga smiled mysteriously. “A new chapter in our lives.”
That evening, an old friend, Mikhail, called:
“Lyokha, are you serious about this wedding? Everything’s moving way too fast.”
“Olya is very caring…”
“And very interested in your property,” Mikhail interrupted.
“Listen, I did some digging. She’s been married before. Twice. And both husbands… something happened to them.”
The call cut off. Alexey tried calling back, but Mikhail’s phone was silent.
“Who were you talking to?” Olga asked, appearing in the doorway.
“Oh, just some spam…”
Mikhail disappeared for two days. No calls, no posts on social media. A deep unease settled in Alexey’s chest.
“Don’t worry,” Olga reassured him. “He probably just went somewhere. Let’s focus on the wedding instead. I even found a dress!”
That evening, the doorbell rang. Igor stood on the doorstep, grim and resolute:
“We need to talk, brother. Seriously.”
Olga popped out of the kitchen instantly, as if sensing trouble:
“Igor! What a pleasant surprise! Tea?”
“Thanks,” he smiled, but his eyes stayed tense.
“But I need to speak with Alexey alone. It’s about the wedding.”
Alexey noticed a quick glance exchanged between them — short but telling.
A chill ran down his spine.
As soon as Olga disappeared into the kitchen, Igor leaned forward:
“Do you know where Mikhail is now?”
“Do you?” Alexey asked, heart pounding.
“The thing is…” Igor lowered his voice to a whisper. “He found out too much. About your fiancée and her past. Do you know what happened to her ex-husbands?”
Before Alexey could answer, Olga appeared silently behind Igor.
Her expression was frozen, and a silver spoon gleamed in her hand.
“Boys, the tea’s ready,” she sang sweetly, twirling the spoon. “What are you whispering about?”
Igor flinched like he’d been shocked:
“Oh, just discussing the wedding.”
That night, Alexey tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Igor’s words echoed in his mind, and worry about Mikhail’s disappearance gnawed at him.
Only in the early morning did he drift into a restless sleep.
A muffled voice from the next room woke him. It was 3 a.m. Olga was still up, her voice drifting from the kitchen:
“Yes, Marina, everything’s going according to plan. We’ll get married in a week… Of course I’ve thought of every detail! I found a great private rehab center.”
“Yes, it’s pricey, but they don’t ask questions… What?”
She laughed — a bone-chilling sound in the silence.
“Of course, the apartment will be mine. Legally, it’s easy to handle… Come on, who needs him now? His parents are dead, his friends are gone…”
Alexey’s fingers went numb, his throat felt like it was being crushed.
“The key is not letting him catch on,” Olga continued, her voice growing more excited.
“Right after the wedding, I’ll take care of the paperwork. I’ll say it’s just a temporary step for rehab…”
“And then…” she laughed again, a cold, hard laugh.
“And then I can live peacefully! Imagine — a three-room apartment in the center, already renovated!”
Alexey squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain the rising horror.
All the red flags from the past few months flashed through his mind: her push for marriage, refusal of a prenup, odd interest in his finances, sudden bond with his cousins…
How could he have been so blind?
The next morning, Olga acted as if nothing had happened:
“Sweetheart, I’ve already arranged your suit. The tailor is coming tomorrow,” she chirped, pouring coffee.
“Wonderful,” Alexey forced a smile.
“You know, I thought… maybe we should change the apartment documents? Since we’re family, everything should be joint…”
Olga froze briefly but recovered quickly:
“Why bother with all that now? Let’s handle it after the wedding.”
“Of course, whatever you say, my love,” he replied, keeping his voice calm.
As soon as Olga left for shopping, Alexey pulled out his phone. His hands trembled as he dialed.
“Andrey Petrovich? This is Alexey Vorontsov. You handled my parents’ affairs… I need your help. Urgently.”
The notary arrived within an hour. He listened carefully, nodding occasionally.
“So, you want to transfer the apartment to your aunt?” he confirmed.
“Yes, to Maria Stepanovna. She’s the only one I trust now.”
“A wise decision,” said Andrey Petrovich, pulling out papers.
“I checked into your fiancée… She has quite a history.”
“Two ex-husbands — both wealthy and disabled. The first is in a care facility. The second… disappeared without a trace.”
Alexey went pale, remembering Mikhail’s disappearance.
“We’ll backdate all the documents,” the notary added. “As if you transferred the apartment right after your parents passed.”
That evening, Olga returned, full of energy, waving shopping bags:
“Can you believe it? I found the perfect shoes! And I chose the tablecloth for the banquet…”
“Lovely,” said Alexey, watching her bustle around. “By the way, I met with the notary today.”
Olga froze:
“The notary? Why?”
“Oh, just some inheritance formalities,” he replied casually.
“What formalities?” her voice quivered. “Are you hiding something, darling?”
“Of course not, dear. I just want everything to be legally clear.”
Olga stepped closer, hands on his shoulders:
“Lyoshka, don’t trouble yourself with these silly things. Let me handle everything.”
Their eyes met. For a split second, Alexey thought he saw fear in her eyes.
The doorbell rang. Mikhail stood there, disheveled:
“Lyokha, I found everything out! Your fiancée—”
Olga rushed into the hall:
“You?! How did you get here…”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mikhail, limping, stepped inside.
“Thought your goons got the job done?”
He moved closer, and Olga, cornered, fumbled with her phone.
Alexey rolled his wheelchair forward, watching her pale face intently.
“Misha, where have you been these days?” he asked.
“They put me in the hospital, friend. Three guys were waiting outside my building,” Mikhail winced, rubbing his bandaged hand.
“Seems someone didn’t like me digging into your bride-to-be. But guess what? I’m tough. And even from a hospital bed, I gathered quite the dirt on her.”
Olga flinched, frantically dialing:
“I’m calling the police! This man is trespassing and threatening—”
“Go ahead,” Mikhail said calmly. “And tell the investigators about your second husband, Viktor Sergeyevich.
Remember him? Mysteriously vanished right after signing over his city-center apartment to you?”
Olga’s face contorted. The phone slipped from her trembling hand.
“Lyoshka, darling, don’t believe him! It’s all lies, vile fabrications!” she screamed.
“Is that so?” Alexey slowly took out a recorder.
“Then how about we listen to your call from last night?”
He pressed play. Olga’s voice filled the room: “Yes, everything’s going to plan. After the wedding, I’ll send him to a special facility.
I already found the place — far from the city, where no one asks questions.
And the apartment can be rented out…”
“You recorded me?!” Olga shrieked, lunging at Alexey, but Mikhail swiftly grabbed her arm.
“Easy, darling. We’ve got plenty more recordings where that came from.”
Alexey stared past her, bitter sadness in every breath:
“You know what hurts the most?
I really loved you.
I believed there was such a thing as selfless care, that someone could love even a person with a disability…
