— “No, just imagine! A three-room apartment in the center, renovated, with all the documents in hand. We’ll definitely pull in six or seven million,” Marina said excitedly as she paced around the room, constantly fixing her perfectly arranged light hair.
— “Maybe we shouldn’t rush?” Dmitry mused, gazing out the window. “After all, Zhenya is still a brother.”
— “Honey, just think about it. We’ve lived here for five years, taking care of everything. And your brother hasn’t even been around. And now you want to just give him half?” she said, sitting down next to her husband. “We need to act fast before he changes his mind.”
In the neighboring building, Olga was sorting through documents on the table. For three months, she and her husband had been renting an apartment in this neighborhood while continuing to save for their own home.
— “Zhenya, we need to have a serious talk,” she said, looking intently at her husband. “What exactly is Dmitry proposing?”
— “Nothing special,” Evgeny shrugged. “He says it’s easier to register the apartment in his name, and then he’ll pay me back with money. It’ll work out faster.”
— “And you agreed?” Olga leaned forward.
— “Almost. Mitka is right, they did so much for father…”
— “And are you going to draft any documents? A receipt? A contract?”
— “Olga, why are you acting like a stranger? We’re brothers.”
At that moment, Olga’s phone rang. Svetlana, her colleague who used to work at a real estate agency, wanted to meet.
— “Listen carefully,” Svetlana said quickly and quietly. “I just heard from Katya—she’s working as a realtor now. Some Marina contacted her, wanting to urgently sell a three-room apartment in the center. She showed documents proving ownership, although they haven’t been processed yet. She’s asking to find a buyer quickly, quoting a price way above the market.”
Olga felt a chill run through her.
— “And what’s most interesting,” Svetlana continued, “Marina has already taken a deposit. A decent one too—a million rubles.”
— “Where did the deposit come from if the documents aren’t processed?”
— “Exactly. Katya says that this Marina is practically pushing: faster, faster, claiming she already has a preliminary contract with other buyers.”
In the evening, Olga sat in her room, sorting through printed documents and screenshots of conversations. The plan hadn’t crystallized immediately, but now she knew exactly what to do.
— “I need to go to the tax office,” she said casually to her husband. “Can you take Friday off? They won’t accept the documents without your signature.”
— “What documents?” Evgeny asked, glancing up from his laptop.
— “The tax deduction for the apartment. While we’re renting, it’s the perfect time to apply.”
Evgeny nodded. He didn’t like dealing with paperwork, and Olga always handled that part.
They ended up at the tax office by no coincidence. While her husband filled out forms on the first floor, Olga went up to see her former classmate Nina in her office.
— “See what you can find out about this company,” she said, handing over a sheet with its name.
Within half an hour, she had gathered information about the company through which Marina and Dmitry planned to conduct the transaction. The company turned out to be a shell company, registered just a month ago.
On Saturday, Dmitry visited his brother again. They sat in the kitchen, with Evgeny absentmindedly staring out the window.
— “Alright, here’s the plan,” Dmitry said as he pulled out some papers. “Tomorrow we’re going to the notary to register a gift deed in my name. And in a week, you’ll get the money. Everything as agreed.”
— “Why a gift deed?” Olga suddenly appeared in the kitchen. “Why not a sale contract?”
— “Olga, don’t interfere,” Dmitry snapped. “This is between me and my brother.”
— “Yours?” Olga placed a folder of documents on the table. “And whose is this then? The preliminary sale contract for the apartment priced at eight million. It was signed by your wife a week ago. And a deposit of one million rubles has already been received.”
Evgeny suddenly sat up straight:
— “What contract? What eight million?”
— “Don’t listen to her,” Dmitry said, his face paling. “Zhenya, she’s lying about everything. Do you not trust us? We’re brothers. I took care of father; I have the right to a larger share.”
— “Right?” Evgeny looked up at his brother. “And deceiving your own brother—is that any right?”
— “No one deceived anyone!” Marina appeared in the doorway. “We all acted honestly!”
— “Honestly?” Olga produced another document. “And what is this? A contract for the purchase of a car. A deposit has been made. The date— the day after receiving the money from the apartment buyers. Were you in a rush to spend?”
Marina froze for a moment, then shrugged:
— “We don’t have to account to you. Dima, let’s go home. Let them decide for themselves.”
— “No,” Evgeny stood up. “Now I’ll decide. Tomorrow we’re going to meet an independent appraiser. Then we’ll sell the apartment at market value. The money will be split equally. Otherwise, I’ll file a fraud report—with these documents.”
— “You wouldn’t dare,” hissed Marina. “We’ve put so much effort into this…”
— “I dare,” snapped Evgeny. “There’s no shame in reporting scammers.”
Dmitry silently looked down. Marina grabbed his hand.
After they left, Evgeny sat motionless for a long time, scrutinizing the documents on the table.
— “How did you find out?” he finally asked.
— “By chance,” Olga sat down beside him. “Remember Sveta from work? Her friend works as a realtor. Marina had contacted her about selling the apartment. Sveta heard the surname, the district, and immediately called me.”
— “And then?”
— “Then I started digging. I checked all the real estate agencies in the area. In three places, Marina had already taken a deposit. Then, through the tax office, I found that shell company. And the car contract—that was just by chance. I was passing by a car dealership, and there was Marina, signing documents.”
Evgeny shook his head:
— “And I almost agreed. I believed that they truly took care of father, that they had the right to a larger share.”
— “They deliberately played on your guilt.”
The next day, from early morning, Evgeny began calling real estate agencies, searching for an independent appraiser. By evening, he had arranged a meeting with a reputable company.
Marina and Dmitry arrived late for the appraisal. Marina immediately began arguing with the expert, trying to prove that the apartment was worth less.
— “The neighborhood isn’t prestigious, the metro is far, the renovation is outdated,” she argued, wriggling her fingers.
— “We’ll conduct a full appraisal,” the expert replied calmly. “We’ll consider all factors: location, condition of the building, infrastructure. In three days, you’ll receive an official report.”
The appraisal revealed a real value of seven and a half million. Marina tried to dispute the result, but Evgeny was unyielding:
— “Either we sell at that price and split the money equally, or I’ll go to the police. Choose.”
— “We need to consult,” Marina spat as she led her husband into the corridor.
Fifteen minutes later, they returned. Dmitry looked dejected, and Marina squinted bitterly.
— “Fine,” she said curtly. “Sell it. But note: we won’t be refunding the deposit. It’s compensation for our efforts with the apartment.”
— “We’ll deduct the deposit from your share,” Evgeny countered. “And one more thing: all transaction costs will be split equally.”
The sale was finalized within a month. The buyers turned out to be a serious couple—a family with an impeccable reputation and a full set of documents. When the money was transferred and the documents were signed, Evgeny turned to his brother:
— “I hope we never see each other again.”
— “Wait,” Dmitry stepped forward. “Let’s talk.”
— “About what? About how you tried to cheat me? Or about how you pretended to be the caring son? No, Mitya. We have nothing left to discuss.”
Marina tugged at her husband’s sleeve:
— “Don’t demean yourself. Let’s go.”
That was the last time they saw each other. Evgeny and Olga invested the money they received as a down payment on a new apartment—smaller, but entirely their own.
Six months later, they learned by chance from mutual acquaintances that Dmitry and Marina had divorced. It turned out that she had found a more lucrative partner—a businessman from another city.
— “Do you regret it?” Olga asked one day, noticing that her husband was studying an old photograph where he and his brother were young and smiling.
— “Regret what? That I didn’t let myself be deceived? No. I regret not seeing his true self earlier. But you opened my eyes in time.”
— “Let’s go! I won’t let this go,” she declared.
