A Businessman Hires a Woman to Pose as His Fiancée to Catch a Secret Betrayer
Vladimir stepped out of the car, which had come to a halt right at the doorstep of his childhood home — the very place where his earliest memories were woven, where he first spoke, and learned to balance on two feet. Slowly raising his gaze, he looked toward the windows. A warm glow seeped through the glass, as if the house itself rejoiced at his return. The air carried the scent of spring freshness mingled with the aroma of aged wood and blossoming apple trees in the yard.
Each visit to this quaint provincial town imbued Vladimir with a profound calmness, deep and vital, reminiscent of spring waters. The pressures of the bustling city — endless meetings, complex negotiations, difficult decisions, massive sums of money, continuous stress and tension — all began to fade here. In this place, time moved at a gentler pace, thoughts cleared, and the heart softened.
He opened the trunk and laid out bags and boxes onto the grass. Each item was carefully chosen: fine cheeses, fresh fruits, handpicked coffee, spices, books, and even a few toys for neighboring children — seemingly small tokens, yet treasured by those eagerly awaiting his visit.
“Volodya?” came a familiar, slightly hoarse but heartfelt voice. Vladimir turned to see his father approaching briskly, broad-shouldered and tall, with graying temples but eyes filled with youthful vitality. “At first, I thought I’d been mistaken! But no, it’s really you! Though you said you’d arrive only in the evening!”
Vladimir embraced his father warmly — a long, sturdy hug laden with unspoken words accumulated through years apart. He waved toward his mother, who watched from a second-floor window, squinting slightly with a gentle smile on her lips.
“I decided to leave earlier, Dad,” Vladimir replied. “I just longed to come home. Here, help me carry the bags.”
Ivan Petrovich scrutinized the heap of belongings beside the car, eyebrows lifting. “Why bring so much? We already have plenty — except maybe for a bald devil. We could feast on lobster every day!”
“You want me to arrive empty-handed?” Vladimir chuckled. “Besides, what I bring isn’t found in your stores.”
Together, they gathered everything and headed indoors. His father cast a thoughtful look at him. “So, just a quick visit again? Tomorrow, back to your business?”
Vladimir smiled. “This time, no. I’m staying for a while — maybe three or four days.”
His father slowed down, as if hearing something unbelievable. “Really? Then perhaps we can go fishing?”
“Definitely! My car has fishing rods you’ve never seen before!”
His father squinted slyly. “Let’s make a bet. I’ll catch more on my old rod than you on your fancy new gear.”
Stopping, Vladimir grinned. “Deal! What’s the wager?”
“If you lose, you’ll spend New Year’s with us.”
“And if you lose, you finally let me buy you a new car.”
Ivan Petrovich paused briefly, understanding this meant his beloved, faithful old Audi which had served him for two decades. He knew every scratch and squeak intimately. But he waved it off — Vladimir wouldn’t force him to sell it.
“Agreed,” he said, stepping inside where his mother awaited.
“My goodness! You’ve just come in and already arguing! What kind of father are you?” she exclaimed, softly embracing her son. In that moment, Vladimir felt like a little boy again, far removed from the business world, comforted most by his mother’s arms.
Half an hour later, the family sat around the table. Vladimir continually marvelled at his mother’s talent. Though he was expected only by evening, she always managed to prepare enough food to require him catching up with workouts later. Even now, the table overflowed with dishes as if waiting for an army of guests.
Inhaling the rich aromas, Vladimir hesitated on where to start. He knew everything would taste exquisite — even the finest restaurants couldn’t match his mother’s culinary skill. With ease, she could outshine any top chef.
Noticing his hesitation, she smiled and didn’t wait for him to decide. Taking a large plate, she served him a little of every item. Vladimir smirked inwardly: “Why ponder when Mom insists I try everything?”
After their hearty breakfast that morphed into lunch, his mother gently proposed, “Son, why not lie down? You’ve spent so many hours behind the wheel.”
He nodded. Lately, sleep had been elusive. His business faced attacks. Vladimir suspected betrayal from within. Internal investigations brought no clarity yet. Not only was someone from inside undermining him, but close partners aimed to destroy his enterprise.
Once, all was perfect. He and his comrades launched a joint business, later dividing it into separate areas and pursuing their paths. Contracts were permitted independently, and work thrived. However, recently, his affairs deteriorated. Twice he barely saved the company from bankruptcy.
Friends came to his rescue. Stepan and Sergey, both partners and dear friends, cautioned him:
“Volodya, stay alert. One among us plans to betray you, and he’s nearby. He knows everything about you.”
“I wish I knew who,” Vladimir mused. “Who could play so slyly and quietly?”
Sergey frowned. “We must find him. If even one link falls, the whole chain breaks. We all face danger.”
They agreed Vladimir should temporarily stay with his parents. This would unsettle the schemer. Pending deals froze to prevent risky moves. Friends vowed to monitor carefully.
Vladimir trusted Stepan and Sergey fully. Their friendship dated to university days and remained steadfast. There was once a time years ago when Stepan considered leaving but soon returned, admitting unity was better. That happened a decade ago, now all forgotten.
That evening, after dinner, Vladimir chose to take a walk.
“Son, don’t wander long. You never know,” his mother teased.
“Mom, don’t worry. I’m over thirty and know every corner and bench of this town,” he laughed.
She sighed, wishing he stayed nearby yet realizing he was grown. His worries amused her.
Vladimir wandered familiar streets. Early evening, many strolled, and the weather invited walks.
“Good evening! Want me to tell your fortune?” a girl suddenly smiled widely, stopping him.
“Well, if there’s any gypsy blood, it’s faint,” Vladimir thought, studying her.
“Afraid or skeptical?” she asked, narrowing her eyes with interest.
“No fear, just disbelief.”
She blushed. “How about a deal? I’ll tell today’s fortune. If it comes true, you return tomorrow and pay me.”
She sat beside him, gently turning his palm upward but didn’t look at it. Closing her eyes softly, she whispered:
“Today you’ll do something unexpected of yourself. You will save a life and gain a loyal friend never to betray you.”
Vladimir smirked. “Unlikely. I already have such friends — two, actually.”
She stared intently. “Sometimes the obvious is not what it seems. Go.”
Shrugging, he walked away but heard her voice call after him:
“Lose to your father. He’ll love it.”
He spun around abruptly; she was gone. Approaching home, he heard harsh noises around the corner. A filthy man beat a tiny puppy with a stick. Without hesitation, Vladimir intervened.
Soon, back home cradling the wounded pup, he looked at his mother apologetically. “Mom, I accidentally… this scoundrel almost killed him.”
Natalya Egorovna clasped her hands and hurried to clean and feed the pup. While she attended to the little one, father and son prepared for fishing. Within half an hour, the clean, seemingly beautiful pup approached Vladimir, sniffed, and settled at his feet. His father smiled and remarked:
“Now he accepts you as his master. He’ll be your most faithful companion.”
Seated at the sofa’s edge, Vladimir held the small puppy, which began wagging its tail and nuzzling his hand trustingly. His mother bustled in the bathroom tending to scrapes, and his father, excited, reviewed gear and spoke eagerly about fishing spots along the river—the place he had taught his son as a boy.
The house brimmed with cozy warmth infused by herbs and home comforts. Suddenly, the father smiled:
“Look, he has made you his owner.”
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Vladimir recalled the fortune teller’s words which still puzzled him. Gazing at the pup’s devoted eyes, a warm spark rekindled within him.
“Well, I never…” he murmured, smiling softly.
He then asked his father, “Why don’t you want a new, modern car?”
The elder man smirked as if hearing a familiar question repeated hundreds of times.
“It’s not that I don’t want one. It’s just this Audi holds so much meaning. We’ve faced so many hardships together. I know every scratch like the back of my hand. It’s like a friend. Replacing it feels like betrayal.”
His words hung in the air. Vladimir pondered them, recalling the betrayals he had endured — trusted partners attempting to dismantle his business, ruin his career, even threatening his life. Now, sitting beside his father, he understood that true loyalty isn’t found in words or signed contracts but stems from steadfast devotion and standing firm through challenges.
At dawn the next day, father and son sat beside the familiar river. The water glittered under morning sun rays, air fresh and serene. Vladimir, a skilled angler, arranged tackle and bait. His father watched with a contented smile, reminiscing about teaching his son to fish as a child.
When Ivan Petrovich turned away momentarily, Vladimir quietly released half the catch back into the water. This act wasn’t out of pity but love — letting his father win, so the old man could revel in his triumph and pride, just like in the good old days.
His father was delighted, clapping his knees, laughing, showing off the haul, and planning celebrations — perhaps a sauna or cooking fish on an open fire. Vladimir sat nearby, contemplating future priorities — ones not tied to business or money but personal and meaningful.
That evening, Vladimir returned to the bench where he had first encountered the mysterious girl. She waited as if expecting him. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, eyes clear and sharp. She smiled as at an old acquaintance.
“Not reading fortunes today?” Vladimir asked, sitting down.
“I rarely do, only when it feels important,” she answered enigmatically.
He pulled out his wallet and offered money. “Is this enough?”
“More than enough,” she said, surprised.
“I have a proposition — I’ll pay well.”
She smiled. “I’m free, money isn’t the main thing, but…”
After he explained his plan, she thoughtfully replied, “Sounds intriguing. Especially since I’m on break now.”
“You study?”
“Of course, fourth year. Fortune-telling’s more a hobby.”
Learning her name was Nastya, an economics student, Vladimir couldn’t suppress a smile. This practical field contrasted deeply with her free-spirited nature. Yet that blend of intuition and pragmatism made her perfect for the mission he envisioned.
In half an hour, negotiations would begin. Their group, known as “the chain,” readied for new ventures. The potential was promising, yet anxiety lingered, with the traitor still unknown. Every step carried risk.
Sergey sighed upon seeing Nastya. “Looks like you found yourself a girlfriend. Why bring a fiancée to negotiations?”
Vladimir smiled. “She’s smart and finishing economics. Soon to be my assistant.”
Stepan shrugged. “Your call, just don’t let her interfere.”
But Nastya wasn’t really acting as a fiancée — it was a clever disguise integral to their strategy. Vladimir briefed her fully, and she agreed to help, though admitting uncertainties.
Clad in an unfamiliar, expensive outfit, she eyed herself in the mirror, chuckling: “I could live comfortably off this money for half a year.”
As people gathered around the table, Nastya studied them intently — their gestures, pauses, tones — each telling a story. Waitresses delivered drinks, led by a young woman named Liza, whom Vladimir called his right hand.
After days spent together, Nastya unexpectedly found herself genuinely wanting to assist, beyond money. This new feeling puzzled and unsettled her, especially amid Vladimir’s lingering glances.
Before the meeting started, Nastya implored, “Please, don’t look at me like that. It’s distracting.”
When it came to signing documents, one participant said, “Just a formality left. Volodya, solved your issues? Remember, if a link breaks mid-work, it ruins us all.”
Vladimir glanced at Nastya uncertainly. She smiled and stepped forward calmly:
“Let me speak. It’s difficult for Vladimir, but we have identified the saboteur.”
The room froze. Nastya caught Liza’s slight tremble — the very woman Vladimir relied on.
“Who is it?”
“Sergey,” Nastya said quietly.
Dead silence enveloped the room.
“He acted out of love. And his love is her,” Nastya pointed at Liza.
Sergey sprang up, outraged. “What nonsense is this?”
Nastya retorted, “Did you know she had a child? That she was in prison?”
Sergey stared shockingly at Liza, who suddenly screamed:
“I hate all you rich people! And you, idiot, I hate most of all!” — then stormed out.
Sergey slumped heavily and looked at Vladimir: “Well, that’s that.”
A year passed.
The sun shone warmly. In the garden behind the house, Graf — a large, strong dog — joyfully bounced around Vladimir, barking happily as he approached. His tail thumped rhythmically like a metronome, eyes sparkling with loyalty.
Nastya, leaning on her husband’s arm, teased, “Quiet down, Graf, or I might give birth right here.”
The dog cocked his head apologetically, licking her nose. Nastya laughed. “Alright, forgiven. Let’s go; the hospital awaits.”
She lovingly watched Vladimir’s friends — Stepan, Sergey, who despite everything received a second chance, and Ivan Petrovich, proudly driving them now in his old Audi like a throne.
Together, they had endured trials, betrayal, pain, and disillusionment. Yet, their lives found new balance. Liza had fled the city after the scandal — her business reputation shattered and secrets revealed.
Looking at Nastya, her radiant face, and her belly holding their future, Vladimir smiled. Everything he had lost — hope, faith in people and family — he had rediscovered. Now, surrounded by loved ones and loyal Graf, he truly felt alive.
This story highlights the strength found in trust, loyalty, and resilience amid challenges. It reminds us that behind business and ambition lies the human heart seeking connection and meaning.