# The Price

Lily Rizk

Victoria was a stunningly beautiful woman. With confidence and ease, she could win over any man who crossed her path. It was her strongest, most reliable weapon in life. But one day, that very weapon turned against her in an instant. From the soaring heights of bliss and desire, she suddenly plunged downward—straight to the bottom.

Would she be able to rise to the surface again, to the place her dreams once carried her…?

She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

## Part I

### Chapter 1


“Good morning.”

“And to you…”

“Something wrong?” Victoria asked, stretching and yawning like a flexible little red-haired cat.

Lana lowered her eyes.

“Not really…”

They lived in a dormitory connected to a small factory. The girls were doing their internship after graduating from the Rostov Institute for Entrepreneurial Protection. They shared a tiny room for two. It had only the bare essentials—a table with chairs, a wardrobe, and two beds—but it was enough for them.

Lana was sitting cross-legged on her bed, lost in gloomy thoughts. After a while, she looked at her friend and asked:

“How was your date last night?”

Victoria stood up and, tossing her head slightly, replied:

“I think I drank a bit too much. But otherwise, it was great—as always!”

She opened the wardrobe door against the wall, rummaged through the shelf, pulled out a towel, and slowly left the room. As she walked away, she threw over her shoulder:

“Lanushka, put the kettle on—we’ll have some coffee!”

Left sitting in place, Lana watched her go with a gloomy expression.

Half an hour later, they were already having breakfast—sandwiches and coffee. Victoria was doing her makeup at the same time, looking into the small mirror in her powder compact.

“Soon, I’ll have my own beauty salon,” she said dreamily, brushing her already long lashes from below upwards.

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, come on, tell me—what happened with you?”

“Nothing,” Lana muttered, stirring her lukewarm coffee with a spoon, her head lowered.

Victoria set her makeup aside and looked at her friend attentively.

“Didn’t work out again?”

Without lifting her eyes, Lana shook her head.

Smirking slightly and thinking for a moment, Victoria suggested:

“How about we give you a little makeover? New hairstyle, some makeup, hmm?” A spark lit up in her eyes.

Lana looked at her with a sullen expression.

“You think that’ll help?”

“I’m sure of it!”

That evening, the girls went to a disco at a private club called Mona Lisa, where they were let in thanks to one of Victoria’s good connections. As planned, Lana’s hair had been styled into long wavy curls, she had bold makeup on, and she wore a beautiful turquoise dress that showed off her figure.

When they entered, Lana’s eyes widened at the variety of fashionable and attractive people. A mix of perfumes hit her nose. Judging by her slightly bewildered look, it was clear she had never been to a place like this before.

“Oh, relax already!” Victoria said, tugging at her sleeve.

Someone then pulled Victoria aside, and she shouted to Lana, pointing toward the far end of the room, telling her to go to a reserved table. Then she disappeared into the crowd.

Lana slowly made her way through the dancing bodies, watching her step and trying not to bump into anyone. Suddenly, a guy grabbed her arm, stopping her. He started dancing and motioned for her to join his circle. Rhythmic lights shattered into beams, rapidly switching from darkness to bright flashes, creating a slow-motion effect. Everything around her felt surreal, as if she were dreaming. The thundering bass mixed with the hum of voices and noises pounded not just in her head but seemed to vibrate through her whole body. As she turned, her elbow accidentally knocked into a man holding a drink.

“Damn it! Are you drunk?!” she heard the guy shout behind her.

Turning around quickly, she saw a dark-haired man wiping a spilled drink from his light shirt with a napkin. He gave her a furious look and grumbled something under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she said loudly. The man leaned in to hear her better. At that moment, Lana caught the scent of his cologne and something else… She closed her eyes, inhaling with delight. Something strange happened inside her, as if something clicked. She suddenly wanted to stay in that position—with her lips near his neck—forever. But he straightened up. Throwing her a brief glance, he gave a faint smile.

His features softened, and she realized he wasn’t angry anymore.

That look from his brown eyes and his smile left her dazed. She parted her lips and stared at him.

Just then, the persistent dancer yanked her arm again, more forcefully this time, and pulled her into a dance. Spinning unexpectedly, she lost her balance and fell against his chest like in a fiery tango. But instead of being thrilled, she was furious at the interruption of her magical moment with her dream man. She shoved the dancer away and snapped:

“Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?!”

Unfazed, the guy kept dancing. Biting his lower lip, he started tracing the outline of her body with his hands. He squatted down and slowly rose again, mimicking the movements of a snake—completely ignoring her obvious outrage. Lana was both bewildered and slightly amused by his antics. After a few seconds, she lifted her arms and started moving in sync with the beat. Wasn’t this what she came here for, after all? She quickly glanced at the young man she had just apologized to, hoping he would notice and appreciate her. But unfortunately, the brown-eyed stranger was gone. Lana sighed in frustration and turned back to her dance partner. After a couple more tracks, a slow song began, and the dance floor thinned out. Lana decided to take a break and finally reached the reserved table. She placed the sign aside, and two minutes later, a waiter approached, asking her name and offering a menu. She ordered water, not daring to get anything else. Still, some drinks and appetizers were served. Around that time, Victoria reappeared.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Lana said, slightly offended.

“Sorry, darling, had to pay for the evening somehow,” her friend shrugged, pulling a drink closer to herself.

“Vika, were you just with the owner of this place?” Lana asked wide-eyed.

“Almost. With his close friend. We were sitting at that table,” she pointed somewhere deep into the hall. Then, sipping her cocktail, she narrowed her eyes and added, “You dance beautifully, by the way. Kostya said he’d love to see you here more often.”

“Kostya who?”

“The guy you were dancing with,” she said before taking another big sip and choking on the strength of the drink. Her throat tightened, and her eyes squeezed shut.

Lana sat there, mouth agape, staring at her. So it was Victoria who had sent that dancer her way… A minute later, a man approached and invited Victoria to dance. She turned away and made a face, but then instantly flashed him a dazzling smile, placed her hand in his, and rose gracefully. He led her to the middle of the hall, drenched in romantic light.

Victoria was a stunning girl. Her green eyes, framed by thick lashes and long arched brows, were irresistible. No man could withstand her charms. One look into those eyes, and he would be lost forever. Her beautiful face was complemented by a slender body, a narrow waist, and curvy, seductive hips. Whenever she walked among other girls, she was sure all the men’s eyes were on her. But Lana was also quite attractive—a tall, slim girl with long light brown hair usually braided over her shoulder. Still, she felt she lacked allure and sex appeal. Over time, she had become more and more conscious of her perceived flaws. These thoughts fed her insecurity, especially after repeated failures in her love life, pushing her deeper into self-doubt. Victoria had been her friend since childhood—first classmates, then college mates. They enrolled together and, after graduation, even did their internships side by side. Everyone who knew them saw them as sisters, a pair of “Twix,” Siamese twins. This, despite their completely different lifestyles and personalities. It amazed even them how they’d managed to stay close for over a decade.

Lana’s parents were wealthy and respected people in Rostov. Her father, Viktor Alexandrovich, owned a small metalwork factory making gates, fences, and similar items. The business did well, and the family lacked nothing. He had money—and mistresses—though he tried not to hurt his wife. Olga Nikolaevna, Lana’s mother, perhaps weary of his lifestyle, also had her own affairs. Left to herself, their daughter found peace in her friendship with the prettiest girl in class—then college. She even chose the same university as her beloved Vika, so they wouldn’t be separated.

Victoria, on the other hand, had no such privileges or family prestige. She preferred not to talk about her parents. They barely made ends meet, and whatever they earned went straight to booze. They lived in an old house inherited from her father’s parents, likely untouched since it was built. She ran away after high school and never returned. Her parents had another child—Igor—who was constantly in and out of prison for robbery and assault. Victoria had to survive on her own. As she grew up and realized that her looks drew attention from men, she figured out how to use it to her advantage. And she did. She learned how to seduce and manipulate men.

Lana watched the dancing couple thoughtfully. “That must be the friend of the club’s owner,” she thought. The man, pleasant-looking and slightly above average height, was gazing at Victoria with affection, confidently leading her across the dance floor.

“And me? The only one interested in me was some dancer she planted—just for fun…” Lana muttered bitterly to herself.

At twenty-four, Lana was still a virgin—unlike her inseparable friend, who, by the same age, had become quite experienced and discerning when it came to men.

Immersed in her heavy thoughts, Lana suddenly felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. It was her mother, crying into the receiver.

“Mom, you’re crying… What happened?” The loud music and noise made it hard to hear, so she rushed outside. Out in the street, she pressed the phone to her ear.

“Vitya… he was in an accident, Lana,” her mother sobbed.

“Oh God!” Lana gasped, covering her face with her hand.

“He’s in intensive care. Come quickly.”

Like someone in a trance, Lana ran into the street, flagged down the first taxi she saw, and rushed to the hospital. She texted Victoria: “I left. Urgent family stuff.”

She didn’t tell her what had happened, thinking that Victoria might not come to the hospital alone—and she didn’t want to explain to her mother who these men were. Meanwhile, Victoria, having shaken off her persistent admirer, returned to their table. Not finding her friend, she immediately took out her phone to call her. But after reading the text, she relaxed.

“She probably ran home from being overwhelmed,” Victoria thought with a smirk.

After sitting alone for a while, she decided it was time to go “home” herself—meaning the dorm. She slung her dainty purse over her shoulder and got up. Just then, she spotted a familiar silhouette not far away. A young man was talking to some woman. Victoria fixed her hair and pulled down the hem of her short dress, then headed straight for him. She poked him in the side from behind. He raised an eyebrow, turned sharply, and when he saw her, lit up.

“Vika??”

“Yup! Rob, how are you?” she smiled, showing off her dazzling white teeth.

“Long time no see… And you’ve only gotten more beautiful,” he said with a lustful look and smiled back.

Less than an hour later, they stumbled into her dorm room, lips locked in a passionate kiss, and collapsed onto the bed.

### Chapter 2


Early in the morning, straight from the hospital, Lana returned to the dorm to pack her things. Her mother had asked her to stay at home for a while until her father recovered. The bathrooms and showers were shared on each floor, just like the kitchen. Usually, a line formed there in the mornings—but that was on weekdays. Today was Sunday, and everyone was still asleep. Everyone except Vika and her guest, who walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist to get dressed. Vika remained in the shower.

When the man entered their room, he came face-to-face with Lana, standing there with her travel bag at her feet. Her mouth slightly open, she stared at the nearly naked stranger who had appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed—he even winked at her. Approaching the bed, he grabbed his clothes and began dressing, dropping the wet towel to the floor.

Lana remained frozen, staring at the movement of muscles across the completely naked man’s back. Even though he was facing away, this was the first time in her life she had seen anything like it. Finally, after pulling on his trousers, he turned around and began buttoning a shirt—still damp with a stain on the chest. He gave her a smile. Meeting his piercing gaze, Lana snapped out of it, quickly lowered her head, and turned away.

“Sorry about that. We thought you’d be back later. I didn’t get a chance to clean up,” he said with a mocking tone.

Without looking at him, she mumbled something unintelligible in response.

Soon after, the door closed with a dull thud and a polite, “Have a nice day.”

Lana sat down on the bed and let her arms drop. It’s him… she thought bitterly. The good-smelling brunette. The one she had wanted to see again. The one who had already taken root in her secret fantasies and girlish dreams. Damn it. Once again, she missed her chance. As always, her perfect friend had scooped up all the cream—like a greedy cat.

“Lanushka?” came Victoria’s gentle voice as she entered in a bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her head. She walked closer, looked at Lana’s face, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Lana whispered.

“What happened?” Victoria sat down beside her, concerned, glancing at the large, half-open travel bag near the wardrobe.

“My father was in a car accident…”

“Oh no…”

“He’s still in intensive care. I came to get my things. I’ll be staying home for a while.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Victoria said and hugged her.

“Thank you. The doctors said he’s in stable condition, but still… Mom’s a wreck—she hasn’t stopped crying.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Lana smiled faintly and shook her head.

“I hope you’ll come back soon,” Victoria said as she walked her to the entrance.

Lana got into a taxi and waved goodbye.

Two days later, Viktor Alexandrovich passed away without ever regaining consciousness.

Victoria stayed by Lana’s side the entire time. After the traditional forty-day memorial, she returned to the dorm.

“Vikulya, stay with us,” Lana’s mother offered, having grown even more attached to her daughter’s friend, touched by her care and kindness.

“Thank you so much, Aunt Olya, but I’m more comfortable at the dorm. I’ll visit often,” Victoria replied warmly.

Lana knew the real reason her friend declined—it had to do with her frequent late-night outings. Unless someone from the factory got assigned to room with her, that brown-eyed heartthrob would likely be a regular guest. In Olga Nikolaevna’s house, Victoria couldn’t afford to live so freely.

“We have to move on,” Lana’s mother said, shaking her head.

They were sitting in the dim room of the house, which felt instantly empty after the death of its master.

“Someone else will run your father’s business now. If we don’t find a manager, we’ll have to sell it.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart. I just don’t know…”

Lana quit the factory, and due to family circumstances, she soon received her diploma.

Victoria continued working in her old position as assistant sales manager. Still, the two friends didn’t drift apart. They visited each other often and spent their free time together whenever possible.

“You need someone from the metal business,” Victoria said thoughtfully.

“Finding a metalworker isn’t the problem—finding someone trustworthy is,” Lana sighed.

“True that.”

### Chapter 3


Victoria, much like during her studies, was going through her internship half-heartedly—just to check the boxes. Her current benefactor supported her financially and in every other way. One more year of work, and she’d be a free bird with a degree in marketing in hand. Of course, having a diploma—even if it wasn’t in your true calling—was essential for a sense of security. Being a smart and educated beauty was better than being just a pretty face. A college degree gave a name some weight. And Victoria was earning hers with iron patience. And after that… dreams—they have wings, and no horizon can hold them.

“How’s your love life?” Lana asked, interested in one person in particular.

“I’m seeing one, and seeing another behind his back,” Victoria admitted, bitterness in her voice.

“Why someone else, if you’ve already got the one?”

“So I don’t have to need anything, Lanushka,” Victoria said, pressing her lips together and giving her friend a weary look. “My sweet guy is broke as a church mouse. Gave everything to his ex and walked out the door.”

“And who is it you’re seeing?” Lana asked, getting a little tense.

“Rob. By the way, I keep forgetting to ask—remember that morning you came to get your stuff?”

Lana nodded and turned a little pale. Of course she remembered that morning. She would never forget it for the rest of her life. Unaware of anything, Victoria continued:

“Did you happen to see him?”

“Who?”

“My Robert?”

Your Robert, Lana repeated to herself. Out loud, she said, “I actually saw him naked.”

“Excuse me?!”

“He walked in, dropped his towel, and got dressed right in front of me,” Lana explained in a calm tone. “Then said goodbye and left.”

Victoria burst out laughing.

“He probably didn’t notice you.”

“Oh, he noticed. First, he winked at me. Then he said you were expecting me later. He even showed off his muscular butt,” Lana added, keeping her eyes fixed on her friend as she recalled the fateful morning.

“What a shameless man! Strange—he didn’t even mention it to me…”

Lana shrugged, still staring at her lucky friend with a hint of anger. Victoria, oblivious to the storm in her friend’s heart, waved it off and said,

“Probably forgot.”

As if her friend had been too insignificant to remember or even mention. That pushed Lana over the edge.

“Then I noticed the stain on his shirt and remembered how I’d accidentally bumped into him, spilling his drink.”

“That was you?!” Victoria laughed again.

“He told me some drunk girl couldn’t keep her balance and ruined his expensive shirt.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“Well, he didn’t know that,” Victoria replied.

Lana’s serious tone finally hit its mark, and Victoria stopped laughing. Studying Lana’s face, she asked gently,

“Are you upset, Lan?”

“No,” Lana answered immediately. She sighed and seemed to regain a little composure.

In truth, Lana was barely containing her anger—not over that one incident, but over the situation as a whole. Suddenly, she realized she was jealous of her brighter, more dazzling friend. It was as if she’d just woken up from a long sleep and realized she was a living, feeling person. A person who had every right to want the things she had only ever observed from the sidelines.

And for the first time, she wanted a man—desperately. She was drawn to him like never before. But he was taken.

Victoria had a kind of magic about her. She attracted not only with her looks but also with genuine warmth and charm. That made her even more irresistible. It was impossible to stay mad at her for long. Her sympathetic gaze and heartfelt concern melted anger and any other negative emotion, which only infuriated Lana more. She loved her friend, admired her—and envied her. And the worst part was, there was nothing she could do to change it.

Later, when Victoria met up with her boyfriend again, she briefly told him about Lana’s situation. They were lying in bed in a hotel room when Robert asked thoughtfully,

“Do they want to hire a manager with a fixed salary or on a percentage basis?”

“I don’t know,” she said, giving him a questioning look. “Why, do you have someone in mind?”

Nodding slightly, he said,

“I could be that someone.”

“You know that stuff, baby?” Victoria asked, surprised.

“I’m head of a department at a small metallurgical plant. And if the pay’s better than what I get now, then why not?”

Her face lit up at the news. Sitting up and folding her legs beneath her, she said excitedly,

“Absolutely! I’ll call and set up a meeting right now.”

“Okay.”

By midday the next day, Robert and Victoria arrived at Lana’s house for a meeting.

“Robert, I’ve hired an auditor who’s going through all the company records. You could start today—just to get familiar with the firm,” said Olga Nikolaevna toward the end of the discussion. “We might continue working with Pyotr Nikolaevich in the future. He may handle our accounting. He’s still considering it. In the meantime, he could introduce you to the production side and explain the details.”

“Yes, that’s a great idea—thank you!” Robert responded right away. “But I’ll need to give two weeks’ notice at my current job,” he explained. He was pleased they’d come to a full agreement.

“Fine, manage your time as you see fit. We’re satisfied with your candidacy,” she assured him.

“Thank you. Still, I’ll start visiting the company when I can—to get familiar with the production and administration departments,” the newly appointed manager promised.

“Agreed.”

They shook hands and said goodbye. Victoria glanced at Lana with excitement, expecting some reaction—but Lana, lips pressed tightly together, gave away nothing.

Soon, life picked up pace. Lana began her new responsibilities at her late father’s company alongside Robert. He immediately threw himself into the production department with confident expertise, while Lana took over payment control and client contracts. Little by little, things started moving. Maybe not from a standstill, but definitely out of stagnation. New orders came in, promising proposals appeared, and productivity improved. Weeks passed, then months. Time flew in the whirlwind of work. The new management team settled in and adapted well. Meanwhile, Lana and Robert’s professional relationship gradually turned into something warm and friendly. Yes, she was his girlfriend’s friend—but she couldn’t help secretly sighing for him. Every effort to suppress her attraction failed. In fact, the more she tried, the more drawn to him she became. She knew it was wrong—but couldn’t stop herself. Her own life was on the rise. Nothing was stopping her from building her happiness. Everything was going well—except for one thing: the man of her dreams couldn’t be hers. And no one else even registered on her radar. Her eyes were always searching for Robert. Her heart always pulled toward him. She often admired him from afar—from her office window, around a corner, from the side, or from the gates. Even just hearing his name gave her a thrill. The look in his brown eyes, his voice, his gestures—everything stirred her imagination and ignited a deep desire to win his heart and mind. Sometimes her fantasies carried her so far that she could barely stop herself from making a move. The passion inside her beat like a wild bird trapped in a cage—restless and persistent.

One day, they were having lunch together, and Robert kept trying to call Victoria. She didn’t answer. He set the phone on the table, lost in thought. Lana had a pretty good idea of where his girlfriend was—or rather, with whom. She was tempted to open his eyes and free him from that toxic relationship. But betraying her closest friend wasn’t something she could do lightly. Excusing herself, she left the table and went to the ladies’ room. At the sink, she looked at herself in the mirror, breathing heavily, thinking. There was no doubt—she had fallen in love with Robert. With all her soul and body. And if you really thought about it—they were a great match in every way. They worked together. They could build a beautiful future. There was a house, and a running business! But what about him and Victoria? Happiness? Marriage? Kids? Unlikely. Most likely, in a couple of months, they’d tire of each other and break up. Someone would end up with a broken heart. And if it was Victoria—then Lana’s chances of earning his trust, as a woman, would shrink. If it was the other way around—it would be even harder to start anything with him, knowing the tears her friend had shed. Right now—before they crossed that line where people start to grow into each other, bone to bone—there was still a chance. A tiny one, but It existed.

But not later—not after everything…


“Did you get through?” she asked, returning to the table.

“Not yet. Maybe she left her phone somewhere. Maybe she’s busy with work,” he said with a shrug, sipping from his glass.

“Busy, yeah… just not with work,” Lana said, looking him in the eyes.

Robert locked his piercing gaze onto hers.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing. You’ll find out soon enough,” she replied quietly, turning to head back to her seat.

But he grabbed her hand and demanded,

“No, finish what you started.”

Lana hesitated. His firm tone and hint of jealousy shook her confidence.

“She’s my friend. I can’t,” she stammered.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. I won’t let it go until I know.”

“I don’t want to be a traitor.” What am I doing? What am I doing?!

“She won’t hear the truth from me. Say it,” Robert insisted.

Lana stood there, staring at him, unable to speak. He tightened his grip on her hand.

“She has someone. Someone powerful. He’s been supporting her all along. They meet in secret. Before him, there was someone else. And then another. And another. And sometimes… just guys for fun,” she said, then covered her face with both hands and began to tremble.

He stared at her for a moment—then simply stood up and walked away.

### Chapter 4


“Can I see your phone?” Robert asked. It was evening—they were lying in bed together, holding each other, in the apartment he had rented after being intimate.

“What for?” Victoria asked, surprised.

“You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?” he said calmly, staring directly into her eyes.

She reached for her purse, which was on the bedside table, pulled out her phone, and handed it to him. He began to go through it. Opened her messages, scrolled through them—nothing special. Then photos—no men. Then contacts. Victoria rested one hand on his stomach, closed her eyes, and relaxed. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

He sighed in relief and thought of Lana, trying to understand her motives. Was it jealousy? Still, doubt gnawed at him. So, just to be sure, he installed tracking software on Victoria’s phone—something he had prepared in advance. He hid it well and deleted all traces. Now, without her knowing, he could track her location at any time—and confirm whether her best friend’s warning had been true. If Lana had lied, he would quit this job, no matter the prospects. He’d leave the company and get far away from this strange girl. And maybe… maybe he’d propose to Victoria. Why not? She had everything his heart and soul desired. Feeling a growing tenderness, Robert gently rolled her onto her back and began kissing her, chasing away her sleep.

Toward the weekend, Victoria told him she’d be working overtime, so they wouldn’t be able to meet. He looked at her for a long time, regret rising within him. Then he began remembering other times like this. Situations he hadn’t paid much attention to before. Could it really be true?


“Does the factory even work weekends, sweetheart?” Robert asked, trying to sound casual, though there was frustration in his voice.

Victoria was fixing her hair at the mirror. At his words, she turned and approached him, gently cupping his face in her hands.

“Honey, when there are orders, they run three shifts, no weekends.”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off her. Work, then—just work.


He waited for the weekend with both dread and anticipation. He couldn’t imagine how he’d survive the disappointment. Robert was on the edge of serious feelings—or maybe his heart had already been set ablaze. He still hadn’t confirmed anything, but he was already wracked with jealousy. Part of him wanted to delete that app from her phone and just live in blissful ignorance. But he sat there, doing nothing.

Saturday came. Around midnight, Robert called her. The phone was off.

With shaking hands, he opened the hidden folder with the tracker, waited out a torturous minute—and pressed “Locate.”

The app loaded, then displayed her current location. Robert slammed his phone to the floor with all his strength and let out a roar.


At ten in the evening, on a Saturday, Victoria sat in the restaurant of a hotel, where she was to spend the night with her sugar daddy. They were having dinner. She looked stunning in a red evening dress with a plunging neckline and a slit that reached mid-thigh.

Her fiery hair cascaded over one shoulder in soft waves. Her lips gleamed with scarlet lipstick. Victoria planned to bring up her long-held wish of opening a beauty salon and had carefully prepared for the meeting. Though he had promised it long ago, she wanted to speed things up. She had taken an aggressive stance. Her benefactor was a high-ranking official—close to sixty years old—named Anton Semyonovich. He held a position in local government and carried significant influence, even within criminal circles. Despite their intimacy, Victoria feared him. One look from those icy blue eyes could instill terror. And in private, he didn’t hesitate to use brute force—it thrilled him and infuriated her. She would’ve ended things long ago, even the occasional meetings he invited her to, but the man wouldn’t let go.

At this particular dinner, everything about Anton Semyonovich’s behavior said one thing—don’t even think about leaving me. The way he carried himself made it clear who was in control. Yet at the same time, he never openly showed possessiveness. He allowed his young mistress her freedom and didn’t demand much—just respect. Maybe because Victoria was skilled at playing the role of the sweet, innocent girl in love. In truth, what guided her was caution and a tough life experience. She acted carefully, always avoiding missteps. She had mastered the art of seduction and manipulation. She had a dozen masks in her arsenal, allowing her to wriggle out of almost any situation. Even a clever, seasoned man like Anton Semyonovich trusted her completely. They had agreed that after her internship ended, she’d move out of the dorm and into her own apartment, managing a small business he’d set up for her. She wanted that more than anything.

But since starting a relationship with Robert, something inside her had shifted. Something had clicked. She found herself considering a different life plan. And to her surprise, she started thinking—maybe she didn’t need all that… the money, the gifts, the beauty salon. Maybe being with her love, even in a modest home, would be enough. Or maybe not. Maybe she still needed it all. Time would tell.

If Anton Semyonovich had known her secret thoughts and desires about another man—a man who could make her genuinely happy—maybe he would have let her go peacefully. Maybe he’d allow her to marry and build a family. After all, she was still so young. Yes, Robert had settled into her thoughts.

Why not?

Lately, she’d grown so attached to him. She could already picture herself spending the rest of her life with him.

“What are you thinking about, my beauty?” her benefactor asked, brushing her cheek with his hand. “Your eyes are glowing.”

“Just dreaming,” Victoria replied, flashing a gentle smile.

“About me?” he teased, chuckling and coughing lightly.

“Of course, darling. Who else?”

He signaled to his man, who was seated nearby. The man approached and placed a small bag on the table. Anton Semyonovich took out a square velvet box and opened it.

Victoria’s eyes widened at the dazzling sight—rubies framed with diamonds, glowing red. Her mouth parted, and she stared at her generous lover in awe. He pushed the box toward her with a satisfied smile and said, “For you.”

“Can I kiss you?” she whispered, stunned.

“In the room,” he replied with a smirk, then nodded toward the necklace. “Think you can put it on yourself?”

“Of course.”

Carefully lifting the jewel by its edges, she placed it on her chest and, brushing her hair aside, fastened the clasp behind her neck. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she almost squealed in joy.

“You are the jewel this necklace was made for,” the man whispered with open adoration.

“Thank you! God, I can’t believe it! I finally have real diamonds and rubies!” Victoria exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.

But the moment she opened her eyes, she wished she hadn’t. Behind one lover, she saw the face of another—filled with disgust. Victoria turned pale.

Not now. Please, not now!

“This is for you too,” Robert said, taking off a thin gold chain.

He threw the bracelet she’d given him onto the table. It had been a gift from Anton Semyonovich—his very first to her, years ago. Robert had picked it out with care and put it on her wrist with affection. Now, his face screamed betrayal, like someone had kicked him under the chin with a filthy boot.

At that moment, her benefactor’s security men grabbed Robert and escorted him out.

Anton stood up calmly and told her to go to the room.

Shaking all over, Victoria left the restaurant, passed through the lobby and down the hall to the elevator. They always booked the same room—she knew exactly where to go. For ten agonizing minutes, she waited. Her mind raced: run, call the police, call emergency services—do something! But all she could do was tremble in fear, bracing for the inevitable punishment.

Anton Semyonovich entered, closed the door, and approached. Victoria sat obediently on the bed, holding her breath. Her entire being was a coiled spring. Her heart pounded with betrayal. She barely managed not to rock in rhythm with it.

Without a word, the man turned and slapped her across the face. She fell to the floor. Her cheek burned, and within seconds, she heard his hissing voice above her:

“I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”

He grabbed her by the hair and punched her in the face—this time with his fist. The pain was immediate. She felt herself choking. Blood rushed into her mouth, blocking her breathing. But the sight of blood didn’t stop him. He hit her again—harder—like she were a man. Victoria lost consciousness. The sounds faded. Darkness swallowed her. When she came to, more pain followed.

Kicks—sharp, ruthless—landed against her sides from his polished shoes. She curled into a ball, trying to shield herself. Blood-matted hair stuck to her face. No more screams—only the involuntary whimpers of a wounded animal. The necklace flew under the bed. He didn’t even notice.

Eventually, the man who’d once courted her like a gentleman walked out—leaving her in a puddle of blood, still wearing her red dress.

She groaned and rolled onto her back. Everything hurt. Her body felt torn apart. The sparkle of diamonds and rubies shimmered nearby under the bed. Summoning all her strength, Victoria reached under the bed and found the necklace. Her body trembled violently. She grabbed it with her fingers and clutched it in her fist. She stuffed it inside her bra, beneath her bruised chest. Every movement sent waves of searing pain. But in her foggy mind, she thought: If I die now, at least let it be with my diamonds. Then she leaned her head back and slipped back into darkness.

Pain brought her back again. New blows jolted her. One eye barely opened—the other was swollen shut. She saw darkness. After a few seconds, her brain caught up. She was in some tight, hard space. They were moving. The trunk. She was wrapped in some kind of cloth—soft, fuzzy. A towel, maybe. But it didn’t cushion the jolts on the bumpy road. Finally, the car stopped. She clenched her jaw and turned onto her side. They lifted her—one by the wrists, the other by the ankles. They began swinging her. Then—weightlessness. Then—a splash. The impact with water.

Softness. Coolness. Then—cold. No oxygen. The fabric clung to her face, blocking every breath. Panic hit like a hammer. Victoria thrashed, ignoring the agony in her body, fighting to break free. She managed to tear through the cloth and surged upward, her fiery hair streaming behind her. She kicked again and again, leaving a trail of blood in the water. The current caught her, carried her. She surfaced, gasping, chest heaving.

She was alive. Alive…

Floating on her back, she let the current carry her gently. The cool water caressed her open wounds like a comforting friend, nudging her toward a rocky, wild shore. After a while, she felt the bottom beneath her feet. She crawled to the edge and closed her eyes again.

It was August. If this had happened in autumn or spring, she might never have seen the sun again. Her strength gave out, and night wrapped her in its velvet veil.

Morning came. Victoria finally opened one eye—the other was swollen shut—and felt the sting of raw skin. She tried to sit up and groaned, collapsing again. After resting a bit and adjusting to the pain, she made another attempt. Propped up on her elbows, she looked down at her body. It was almost entirely purple and bruised. Torn wounds still bled. Feeling around her bra, she found the necklace and smiled faintly. Looking around, she spotted a rotten tree half-submerged in the water. Pushing through the chest pain, she reached for a sharp stone and began digging under it. Once the hole was deep enough, she paused to catch her breath. Then, with immense effort, she pulled the necklace from her bra. She checked the setting—every gemstone still intact. She placed the treasure into the hole and buried it, using the same stone. Trembling again, she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. The sun beat down hard. She scooped water with her hand and splashed her face. Then lay back, listening to the gentle lapping of the lake’s waves. A lullaby. And once again, silence and peace wrapped around her completely.

### Chapter 5


Lana woke up in the middle of the night with a sense of dread. Nausea swept over her, and a heavy feeling pulled her out of bed, refusing to let her sleep. She got up and leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her heaving chest. It was the same feeling she’d had right before her father’s death. She hadn’t been able to sit still in the hospital hallway—tears had suddenly started choking her. Lana had felt that he was slipping away. She had run to the ICU doors, banging on them, demanding someone check on her father.

“He’s not well!” she’d cried to the hospital staff.

But they had calmed her, assuring her he was fine—that he was asleep. He had been dying. And within the hour, he was gone. Now the same thing was happening again. Why?! Who was dying this time? Her mother was peacefully asleep in her room. Her grandparents had long since passed. They had no other close relatives she could feel this deeply for. Mentally, she went through a list of names, trying to think of anyone. Sitting down on the floor, Lana closed her eyes and began to pray:

“God, please help the one who’s suffering right now! God, I beg you—save them! Lord, hear my prayers and protect them from death! Whoever needs you, reach out your hand—save them!”

Tears streamed down her face, and she had no idea why. She just felt horrible.

Robert had also been beaten—but not to death. The men who’d done it were professionals. They had used batons, bruising him badly but breaking nothing. Then they warned him: if he ever tried to find Victoria, or even mentioned her, he wouldn’t live to regret it. He promised that as of that moment, she was dead to him. And they let him go.

On Monday, he didn’t show up for work. He sent a message to Olga Nikolaevna’s phone, apologizing and explaining that he was very ill and wouldn’t be able to come to the office that week. She called him immediately—and so did her daughter. He hadn’t wanted to talk but had no choice. He said he’d been in an accident. Nothing serious—just needed rest.

Naturally, within the hour, Lana was at his door. So that’s why I felt so awful, she thought. The man I love was in an accident. When he opened the door to the apartment he was renting, Lana couldn’t hold back. She threw her arms around him and said:

“Thank God you’re alive!”

“Easy, easy…” he murmured, gently pulling away.

“How did it happen?” she asked with concern, kicking off her shoes—though he hadn’t invited her in. She went straight to the kitchen to drop off the bags of food she’d brought.

He stood there, head slightly tilted, watching her with a heavy heart. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

But seeing that she wasn’t going anywhere, he closed the door and dragged himself back to the couch. He lay down, covering his eyes with the back of his hand, pretending to sleep.

“Did you get hit crossing the street?” she pressed, knowing he didn’t own a car.

She knelt down beside him and gently touched his bruised cheek.

“Oh my God, you need to go to the hospital. You’re just lying here. Are you sure you don’t have any broken bones?”

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered without turning. “I just need rest.”

“Of course,” she said softly, gazing at him with loving eyes.

He cursed everything—for sending that message. He should’ve said he left town! When would she go already?!

“I brought cutlets and soup. You should eat, okay? There’s also salad, fruit, cheese, and juice.”

“You didn’t have to,” he sighed. “Thanks. Lana, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” she said, standing up. She hesitated for a moment, then added, “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. Day or night, okay?”

“I will. Please shut the door behind you,” he replied, making it clear she shouldn’t linger.

Lana quietly left. Half a minute later, Robert got up and went into the kitchen. He threw all the food she brought into the trash. Suddenly, everything infuriated him. He started smashing things—teapots, cups, plates, glasses—everything went flying against the wall, to the floor, into furniture. He roared like an animal. His eyes filled with rage, and the world around him blurred. The pain was unbearable. He sank to the floor and grabbed his head with both hands.


Her face—her smile—so beautiful, with diamonds around her neck—it wouldn’t leave his mind. And then he howled like a wild beast, cornered and broken. Someone was stroking her cheek. So gently, with a smile and love in their eyes. A woman—like a mother—though it wasn’t her mother’s face. Still, Victoria felt in her soul that this woman was family.

“Mama…” she whispered barely audibly.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” the woman replied softly, running her hand through Victoria’s hair again. “Everything will be all right.”

“Protect me, Mama,” she pleaded, suddenly feeling like a little girl.

“Of course, my darling. No one will ever hurt you again,” the woman promised.

Victoria whispered, “Thank you,” and tears slid slowly from her closed eyes.

When she opened them a little while later, the warmth and safety hadn’t faded. It wasn’t a dream. One eye barely opened, she took in her surroundings. Pink curtains. A table with a white cloth. Flowers. She looked down and slowly lifted a hand to touch her body. She was lying in bed, wrapped in bandages.

Even her head was wrapped. Where was she? A woman approached her, smiling warmly.

“Well, hello there, sweetheart!” she said in the same kind voice Victoria had just heard in her dream. She looked a little different now—but still just as kind.

“Hello,” Victoria said softly.

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“No. I feel really good. Thank you,” Victoria replied, realizing she was no longer in pain. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home, in the village. I’m a healer. I’m taking care of you, Victoria,” the woman answered, then introduced herself. “You can call me Aunt Masha.”

She smiled again and stroked Victoria’s hair.

“Thank you, Aunt Masha. How did you find me?”

“Some folks from our village found you. You were unconscious by the lake—on the Sorrowful Shore.”

“Yes, I remember,” Victoria said, closing her eyes.

The horror she’d been through rushed back into her mind, making her stomach twist. Repeating the name Sorrowful Shore, she realized she’d heard of it before. They often found drowning victims there.

Dear God… I almost joined them.

“Everything will be fine,” Aunt Masha said again, gently stroking her. “We’ll nurse you back to health. You’ve got broken ribs and a concussion—but I’ll heal you. Don’t worry. I’ve treated worse.”

“You’ll be good as new.”

“Thank you, Aunt Masha,” Victoria whispered, her voice trembling.

### Chapter 6


Three days later, Lana came to the factory and headed straight for the director’s office.

“I already told you—Viktoriya Sokolova quit and left for Moscow,” said Pyotr Vladimirovich without looking her in the eye, clearly eager to get away.

“That’s impossible!” Lana protested. “She would’ve told me. How could she quit—she’s doing her internship here! She needs to get her diploma!”

“Lana, when you find her, ask her yourself. What do you want from me?” he snapped, then stormed off.

Lana stood there with her mouth open in shock. Then she went to the dormitory. Her old room was already occupied by other girls. Viktoriya’s things were gone. They said some guy had come and taken everything. Oh my God, she thought. What if she found out the truth? What if Robert’s lying about the accident and something serious happened?! What if that’s why she left without saying goodbye?! Lana sat down on the dorm steps and covered her face with her hands. What have I done?!

When she came to Robert with questions, he answered calmly that she was mistaken.

Yes, they’d had a fight—actually, they had decided to break up—but it had nothing to do with Lana. Viktoriya had admitted everything, and they went their separate ways. That was all. He added that he didn’t want to hear about her anymore. They were standing on the landing of his building; he hadn’t invited her in, just stepped out.

“She quit the factory and left, Robert,” Lana said, standing on the first step of the second floor where his apartment was.

His jaw clenched—but he said nothing. Then, quietly, he said goodbye and went back inside. He hadn’t asked where she went. Why should he? He’d been told not to look for her, which meant she wasn’t alone. She was with him. Let them both go to hell! That bitch!!!

He slammed his fist into the wall.


A month passed.

The bruises had begun to fade, slowly bringing Viktoriya’s beauty back. But she still spent most of her time lying down. She wore tight bandages, and Aunt Masha continued treating her with ointments and magical potions.

“Aunt Masha, I need a phone,” Viktoriya asked once.

She hadn’t seen any communication devices in the house—no phone, not even a TV. And no one ever visited. Only the sounds of nature and silence. The couple times she stepped outside, the woman quickly brought her back in, as if hiding her from people.

“What for, sweetheart?” Aunt Masha asked gently. “Who do you want to call? Your parents?”

“No…” Viktoriya answered sadly. Her birth mother had never once tried to contact her. Sometimes she’d send her money—but never a word of thanks. Just took it and left. She wanted to call her best friend. There was no one else.

“It’s better if no one knows you’re alive. At least until you recover,” the woman said softly, taking her hand.

Viktoriya looked into her eyes and understood. She hadn’t thought of the danger. Of course! That bastard and his dogs thought they had killed her. If they found out she’d survived…

“What am I going to do?” Viktoriya whispered, covering her mouth in horror.

The woman answered, “I know a good man who can help you. Once you’re back on your feet, we’ll ask him to come and talk.”

“Thank you,” Viktoriya said, squeezing her hand tightly.


Robert threw himself into work. Without holding back, he gave everything he had to the job—like it was his own company. In just a few weeks, he’d secured several new permanent clients, and the workers couldn’t keep up with orders. He earned twenty percent of the profits and set a goal for himself: rise out of the mess he’d been in after his divorce. Turned out, he’d married a very calculating woman. They had a prenuptial agreement: if either of them cheated, all assets—movable and immovable—would go to the other. And he had cheated. She found out and caught him red-handed. Whether it was a setup or not didn’t matter anymore. He packed his things and left. She had shattered a crystal glass against the door behind him. And now he was alone again.

This time, he had been cheated on—because he couldn’t shower his girlfriend with expensive gifts. That’s life. No money—no love.

From now on, he would see women as nothing more than objects. Use them, move on, goodbye. There was no more room in his life for trust, sincerity, dreams, or hope. Just him and his own life. That was it.

At the same time, Lana continued to nurture her dream of being with Robert. Now, nothing stood between them. Viktoriya had handed him over to her. She left. They broke up. Lana hadn’t stood between them while they were together—she’d only been a friend. It wasn’t her fault Viktoriya had made her choice. Lana had a right to happiness too—just like Robert. And she would fight for it.


“In two weeks we’ll take off your bandages and go to the city clinic for a head scan,” Aunt Masha told her.

“A head scan?” Viktoriya asked, surprised.

“Well, I don’t know what it’s called. We’ll check your little head—make sure everything’s okay,” she replied warmly, gently stroking Viktoriya’s hair and shoulder.

The girl laid her head on the woman’s chest and closed her eyes.

One day, Viktoriya had asked her:

“Can we not part ways? When I leave, I want to always come back here. Like to a mother.”

The woman had stroked her hair, kissed her, and said,

“You’d make me very happy if you came back.”


A few days later, a guy in an SUV arrived. He greeted her as he entered the house. Viktoriya was alone. When she turned and saw him, she recoiled in fear. His eyes looked painfully familiar. She recognized him. He had been part of her ex’s security detail—the same “benefactor” who had nearly killed her.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” he said, standing in the doorway.

Aunt Masha was out in the shed. Hearing voices, she quickly came inside.

“Aunt Masha, don’t give me to him!” Viktoriya begged, rushing over.

“Hello, son. Come in,” she said to the tall, well-built man with short blond hair.

Then, turning to Viktoriya, she hugged her and said, “I won’t give you to anyone, don’t be afraid, my girl. He’s a protector—he won’t hurt you. Don’t worry. This is Ruslan, my son. He’s the one who found you and brought you here. He saved you, sweetheart.”

“What??”

Ruslan stood quietly, his eyes downcast, afraid to speak—afraid to scare her even more.

Eventually, they calmed her down and explained everything. The memories hurt, even as whispers, but she had to revisit that day. After she was thrown into the lake and left for dead, two of the guards had gone to a bar and gotten completely wasted. They had genuinely felt sorry for her—but it had been an order. Eliminate. They couldn’t disobey. That night, Ruslan went to pick them up from the bar. Drunk, they told him everything in detail. Once he dropped them off, he raced to the lake in the dark. He didn’t even know the exact spot. But by morning, he found her—barely alive—on the very Sorrowful Shore where they so often found the dead.

Viktoriya covered her face and finally let herself cry. She had held it all in for so long, pushing away the darkness. Now it burst out of her. She sat straight at the table—her bandages wouldn’t let her bend—and sobbed out loud. Weeping for her former self. That fragile, helpless girl who was nearly killed and thrown into a lake. Aunt Masha cried with her, as if they were burying someone.

Ruslan jumped up, pacing between them, unsure how to help. Then he ran outside, got in his car, and sped off.

“Ruslan!” his mother shouted, bursting into louder sobs.

Fifteen minutes later, he returned. He approached the table and gently set down a tiny bundle.

The women grew quiet, peering at the fluffy little creature now meowing and running in fear across the table.

“Oh my God, a kitten!” Viktoriya said, her voice full of tenderness as she wiped her tears and reached for it. Aunt Masha clapped her hands and hurried to the kitchen for some milk.

Ruslan folded his arms across his broad chest and sighed in relief.

“Thank God,” he said.

Then he explained: he’d seen the kitten near the road but hadn’t picked it up. Now he’d remembered and figured it was the perfect distraction.

Soon after, they went to the city for Viktoriya’s check-up. She had an MRI and an ultrasound. Everything was fine—except for one unexpected piece of news that nearly broke her.

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor told her. “Seven weeks.”

So it had happened before that nightmare. And there was no doubt who the father was. Viktoriya covered her face. What now?!

“A child is a gift from God,” Aunt Masha said gently. “You just need to rejoice.”

“Tetya Masha…” Viktoriya sobbed.

“Everything will be okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing. We have a home, and there’ll be bread for the baby.”

In that moment, she remembered the buried treasure.

She stopped crying, lowered her hands, and looked at the smiling woman—her chosen mother.

“Mother… can I go somewhere with Ruslan?”

“Of course, my dear. Tell him where, and he’ll take you. But be careful. You’re responsible for more than just your own life now.”

She grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and said,

“I promise.”

They dropped Aunt Masha off at home and drove to the lake.

“What did you lose out here?” Ruslan asked.

“I’ll show you,” she replied.

They got there in about an hour. But once they arrived, Viktoriya felt sick and vomited. She washed her face at the lake, sat a while, then got up to look for that tree. She wasn’t sure it was the right place. They wandered the shore—it all looked the same. Then he spotted a pile of stones.

“This is it,” he said. “You were lying right here. I stacked these rocks and placed a board under you to lift you up—just in case your bones were broken.”

She looked at him with deep gratitude. Her eyes filled with tears again.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for this,” she whispered.

“Just live long and be happy. That’s enough,” he replied with a smile.

She bit her lip and turned to find the rotting tree. There it was! Viktoriya ran to it, found a sturdy stick, and started digging. Immediately, she hit metal. The necklace was still there. She carefully pulled it out, looked at the dirt-covered jewelry, and handed it to Ruslan.

“What is this?” he asked, examining it.

“I think you don’t need to keep working for that killer,” she said. “Take it.”

He took the necklace and looked at her.

“This is the necklace?”

She nodded.

He opened his mouth slightly, stood there a moment, then knelt by the lake and washed it. The gems sparkled instantly, glowing with radiant brilliance.

“Vika, this is a fortune. He really did love you—though he acted like a monster. Most wives don’t get gifts like this.”

“May he rot in hell,” she said through clenched teeth. Her body still remembered the pain. “No amount of money could make up for what he did to me.”

Ruslan stood up and, for the first time, gently hugged her. He repeated his mother’s words:

“Everything will be okay. Forget it.”

“Thank you.”

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“He went crazy looking for that necklace,” Ruslan said as they drove back. “They turned the whole hotel upside down, dug up everything here—but never found it.”

“Seriously?!” Viktoriya’s eyes widened.

“Yeah. It’s worth a lot. What did you think?” he said, glancing at her.

Then, after a moment’s thought, he added:

“I think we need to get out of here. Take everything and move somewhere else.”

“I agree,” Viktoriya replied immediately. “Let it all burn in hell!”

He said nothing. He took the necklace with him. Told her not to worry—he’d be back in two days after his shift. Viktoriya thanked God—for help, for a home, for a mother, for her rescuer.

She became devout, praying with Aunt Masha—now called Mother. They prayed on their knees, morning and night. Viktoriya dyed her red hair chestnut brown. She braided it and walked around the village in simple clothes.

Yes, she was still beautiful—but different now. She’d gained some weight, her belly was growing. No one could recognize the club girl she once was. That Viktoriya had drowned. For her safety, they changed her name from Viktoriya to Veronika. Aunt Masha started calling her Verochka.

“And where are you from, Verochka?” the villagers would ask.

“From Obninsk,” she’d reply. “My husband died. My aunt took me in. Car crash—quick death.”

And so they lived. And the necklace lay hidden, waiting for its time.

### Chapter 7


Six months passed. Robert had more than doubled the factory’s productivity. The company kept growing—they bought an additional large warehouse and divided it into two sections, opening a second production site. They hired more staff. Olga Nikolaevna also joined the business, as there was far too much work to handle.

Lana couldn’t stand his indifference anymore. She decided it was time for a serious talk. She came to his home in the evening. He opened the door, surprised by her sudden visit.

“I need to talk to you about something important,” she said.

He silently let her in. She walked into the living room and, without taking off her coat, got straight to the point.

“I know your heart still hurts…” she lowered her eyes, nervously fidgeting with the strap of her purse.

“Don’t,” he cut her off coldly.

“Please, let me finish,” she pleaded.

Robert stood across from her with a serious expression on his face.

“Give me a chance,” she said, looking up at him with her big blue eyes filled with love and hope. “I’ll make you happy. I’ll give you children, and you’ll forget everything! We can build a wonderful family—you and I are a perfect match. Just look, Robert, we work so well together. I need you. And you can fill your lonely life with my care and love. Just try…”