“I still have three hours of meetings ahead of me,” he had continued, his voice clipped and impatient, “and then dinner with partners. Just pick Melanie up, take her home. It’s not a big deal.”
“And the fact that I’ve spent six months planning your birthday—does that mean nothing?”
“Victoria, don’t start. I’m exhausted. The negotiations were brutal. We’ll talk when I get back.”
He ended the call without so much as a goodbye.
Victoria stared at the darkened screen, her reflection faintly visible in it. A wave of anger and humiliation rose in her chest so sharply she had to steady herself against the kitchen counter. Instead of crying, she reached for her contacts and dialed.
“Allison? Hi. Can you come over? I really need you.”
Thirty minutes later, Allison Mokeeva—her closest friend and co-owner of their flower studio—sat at the kitchen table, listening as Victoria paced and poured out every word of the argument.
“What an idiot,” Allison muttered at last. “Sorry, but your mother-in-law is a full-blown witch. And David? Incredible. Still mommy’s obedient little boy.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Victoria asked helplessly. “If I don’t go, there’ll be a scandal loud enough for the whole building to hear. Evelyn will make my life unbearable.”
“And if you do go, you’ll teach them they can wipe their feet on you forever.” Allison’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Actually… I might have an idea.”
She pulled out her phone and began typing rapidly.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting our lawyer, Mark. Remember he mentioned his brother runs a transportation company? Let’s arrange something interesting.”
Within an hour, the plan was set. Victoria packed her purse with determined calm and headed toward JFK Airport. Allison refused to let her go alone.
The terminal buzzed with its usual chaos—rolling suitcases, echoing announcements, the smell of coffee and jet fuel. Victoria positioned herself near the arrivals gate holding a sign that read: “Melanie Sechina.”
“Maybe we should still leave,” she whispered at the last second, doubt creeping in.
“Absolutely not,” Allison replied firmly. “The wheels are already in motion.”
Melanie appeared about forty minutes after landing. Tall, slender, with long bleached hair and a superior tilt to her chin—an unmistakable younger version of her mother.
“Victoria? Where’s the car? I’m exhausted. I want to go home.”
No greeting. No thank you.
“It’s in the parking lot. Let’s go.”
Melanie exhaled dramatically, scanning Victoria from head to toe.
“What are you wearing? Is that some discount brand? Honestly, David could’ve married someone with better taste.”
Behind them, Allison raised an eyebrow in silent outrage. Victoria clenched her jaw and kept walking.
When they reached the parking area, a young man in a driver’s uniform stood beside Victoria’s car.
“Good evening. Tyler. I’ll be driving you home today.”
Melanie stopped short. “What is this supposed to be? Victoria, you don’t know how to drive?”
“Oh, I do,” Victoria answered evenly. “I just won’t. Tyler will take you home. He has the address. Have a pleasant ride.”
She turned on her heel. Allison followed.
“Hey! Stop!” Melanie shrieked. “Where are you going? And my luggage? Aren’t you helping me?”
“You’ll manage without me,” Victoria called over her shoulder.
“I’m telling my mother! She’ll throw you out of the house!”
Victoria paused, then slowly faced her.
“Please inform Evelyn that I fulfilled her request—I came to pick you up. Carrying suitcases wasn’t part of the arrangement. And tell her something else: tomorrow at exactly seven p.m., we’ll be celebrating David’s birthday at Restaurant Marseille. If she—or you—attempts to show up uninvited, security will not let you in. The guest list is final.”
Melanie’s mouth opened and closed in stunned outrage. “How dare you—who do you think you are?”
“I’m David’s wife. A wife, not hired help.” She nodded toward the driver. “Tyler, please take the lady home. And don’t feel pressured by any theatrics—you won’t be tipped extra for tolerating them.”
Moments later, Victoria and Allison were driving away, leaving Melanie standing speechless in the middle of the parking lot.
“You were magnificent!” Allison burst out. “You should’ve seen her face!”
“This is only the beginning,” Victoria sighed. “Evelyn will never forgive me for this.”
Her phone began vibrating within thirty minutes—Evelyn, then Melanie, then Evelyn again. Victoria silenced it and buried it in her bag.
When she arrived home, another surprise awaited her. David stood in the doorway, hair disheveled, fury written across his face.
“What on earth have you done?” he demanded. “My mother’s hysterical. Melanie’s in tears! Have you lost your mind?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Chicago?” Victoria stammered.
“I landed an hour ago—right when Mom called! I canceled an extremely important meeting. Victoria, do you even understand what you’ve done?”
“I picked up your sister and made sure she got home safely. What’s the crime?”
“You humiliated her! You hired a driver like she was some stranger!”
“And what am I?” Victoria exploded. “A free chauffeur? A servant?”
“You’re my wife. You’re supposed to help my family!”
“I am your wife—not your mother’s slave! I’ve endured four years of insults, contempt, and humiliation! Your mother walks all over me and you pretend it’s normal!”
“Don’t exaggerate. She’s just… particular.”
“Particular?” Victoria’s voice trembled. “She’s called me trash, a beggar, a parasite! And today wasn’t the first time.”
“She’s emotional. Don’t take it personally.”
Victoria looked at him as though seeing someone unfamiliar.
“David, tomorrow is your birthday. I’ve spent half a year preparing it. I tracked down your childhood best friend—the one you lost touch with. I invited your favorite professor from college. I even ordered the cake from the only bakery that makes it exactly the way your grandmother used to.”