“…half of it.”
“Half? What half? You were the one paying for everything!”
“No, Mom. She covered exactly fifty percent. There’s documentation for every transfer.”
For a brief second, there was stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then Evelyn’s voice pierced his ear.
“She planned this! She set you up so she could strip you of everything later!”
“That’s enough!” David snapped. “Victoria left because of you. Your insults. Your arrogance.”
“Me? I was protecting you!”
“You humiliated her every single time we met. You called her a beggar—even though she earns more than Melanie!”
“Don’t you dare compare that nobody to your sister!”
David ended the call without another word.
Two weeks later, his phone lit up with an unfamiliar number.
“Good afternoon, Mr. David Markovich. My name is Mark Volokhov. I represent Victoria. We need to arrange a meeting regarding the division of your shared assets.”
“Is she filing for divorce?”
“Not at this stage. She intends to separate finances and property and move out permanently. If you agree to a peaceful settlement, formal divorce proceedings may be avoided.”
“I… I need to talk to her.”
“My client prefers not to meet in person. All communication will go through me.”
Reluctantly, David agreed.
On the appointed day, he arrived at the law office. Victoria was nowhere in sight. Only Mark waited for him—a young attorney with a composed expression and razor-sharp eyes.
“My client is willing to transfer full ownership of the apartment to you,” Mark began calmly, “in exchange for financial compensation. The proposed amount is fifteen million dollars.”
“Fifteen? The apartment is worth twenty-five!”
“Correct. Half would be twelve and a half. The additional two and a half million represent compensation for sustained emotional distress over four years—caused primarily by your mother’s repeated verbal abuse, which you failed to stop.”
“That’s extortion.”
“It’s an offer. You may refuse it and let the court decide. We possess audio recordings of your mother’s statements, written messages, and witness testimony. A judge might award considerably more.”
“Recordings?” David’s voice faltered.
Mark unlocked his phone and pressed play. Evelyn’s voice filled the room—calling Victoria a parasite, a freeloader, a stray who should be grateful.
David felt heat flood his face. “Where did you get that?”
“For the past two years, Victoria recorded every encounter with your mother. For her own protection. She anticipated this might one day be necessary.”
The papers were signed that afternoon.
Within a month, the funds were transferred, and Victoria officially relinquished her share of the apartment.
Afterward, David tried to locate her. He drove past the flower studio, lingered near places she used to frequent. But she had vanished from his life entirely. The shop continued operating, though Victoria herself was never seen there—Allison managed everything.
And then the real collapse began.
Federal tax authorities appeared without warning. An audit uncovered that Evelyn—who had been “assisting” with bookkeeping for years—had processed questionable financial transactions through his company for several of her acquaintances. The amounts involved were staggering.
“Mom, what is this?” David demanded, thrusting the documents toward her.
“My heart may be weak, but my mind isn’t!” Evelyn shouted defensively. “I assumed it was all minor income from your business!”
The penalty totaled eight million dollars. Plus interest. Plus the looming threat of criminal charges.
The moment Melanie heard about the investigation, she packed her designer luggage and flew to Miami to stay with a friend, leaving Ryan to handle the growing pile of credit card debt she’d accumulated.
“Do you understand I could go to prison?” David groaned, clutching his head.
“You’re exaggerating,” Evelyn replied dismissively. “Pay the fine and move on.”
“With what money? I gave Victoria fifteen million. Now eight more to the IRS!”
The next six months were consumed by damage control. David sold his car, took out a massive loan, and mortgaged his share of the business. Gradually, Evelyn grew quieter. Her daily calls dwindled. Perhaps she finally realized her son was no longer an inexhaustible source of money.
A year later, once the worst had settled, David unexpectedly ran into Allison outside a shopping mall.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly.
“Hello.” Her tone was cool, and she made as if to walk away.
“Allison, wait. How is Victoria?”
She studied him carefully before answering. “She’s doing very well. She’s happy.”
“Could you tell her… I’d like to talk? Just once?”
After a pause, she nodded. “I’ll let her know.”
They met a week later at a small café. Victoria looked transformed—rested, serene, luminous. A new ring glinted on her finger.
“Thank you for coming,” David began. “I owe you an apology. For everything. You were right. My mother… she’s impossible.”
“I appreciate you saying that.”
“Maybe we could try again? I’ve changed. I’ve learned a lot.”
“David,” she interrupted gently, “we belong to different worlds. You will always choose your mother. I need a husband who chooses me.”
“But I love you.”
“I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.”
She lifted her hand slightly, drawing his attention to the ring.
“Can we handle the divorce peacefully?”
He nodded. There was nothing left to argue.
The final papers were signed a month later.
That same evening, Evelyn called again, complaining about yet another conflict with the building management.
“Mom,” David said quietly, “I’m tired.”
Meanwhile, Victoria stood in line at the county clerk’s office, documents in hand to register her new marriage. Beside her stood Daniel—a tall surgeon with kind eyes, a man who never raised his voice and who regarded her flower business as serious, meaningful work.
This time, she was choosing a life built on respect.