On a regular Friday evening, Marina shoveled the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and switched on the express wash cycle. The dinner had been a success: Igor eagerly devoured her special mushroom pie without hesitation. Even Nastya, who always grimaced at Marina’s cooking — calling her a “show-off” behind her back — consumed two slices.
“I’m heading to the shower,” Igor shouted from the corridor. “Tomorrow, the guys and I have football; got to get enough rest.”
“Go ahead,” Marina replied with a wave, turning to wipe the countertop.
In the living room, Nastya sat absorbed in her phone. She had arrived just last night, as usual without prior notice, loaded with several bags, wearing a sour expression. “Just stopping over for the weekend,” she claimed.
“Would you like some tea?” Marina asked, popping her head through the doorway.
“No,” Nastya curtly replied without glancing up.
Marina shrugged and returned to the kitchen, accustomed to such coldness after three years of marriage. Igor often said, “Nastya’s prickly but quick to cool down. Don’t take her seriously.”
Sounds of running water came from the bathroom as Marina boiled the kettle and reached for her favorite mug in the top cabinet. Suddenly, Nastya’s voice pierced through the quiet.
“Mom, how are things? Yeah, I’m at their place… No, she cooked her nasty stuff again. Listen, I talked to the lawyer.”
Frozen with the mug in hand, Marina listened intently as Nastya lowered her voice but remained audible throughout the small apartment:
“Yes, it’s possible through the courts… Since the apartment belonged to Igor’s grandmother and not both of them… No, that idiot doesn’t even realize she can be evicted… Igor will sign anything if you ask him the right way…”
The mug slipped from Marina’s grasp, crashing loudly to the floor and shattering into shards.
“What’s going on there?” Nastya’s tone suddenly grew louder.
“I dropped the mug,” Marina forced out, feeling a chill spread through her.
The apartment — a three-room flat in the city center, their home for three years — had been a gift from his grandmother to the “young couple,” as the old lady had put it. Now this serpent planned to evict her.
“Typical you,” Nastya appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Always messing things up.”
“Sorry, I was distracted,” Marina bent down to collect the broken pieces, relieved Nastya couldn’t see her expression.
“Why are you trembling? It’s just a mug,” Nastya sneered, “Grab the dustpan.”
Obediently, Marina took the dustpan and brush, her hands shaking.
“What’s wrong with you?” Nastya squinted. “Dropped it and dropped it, no big deal.”
“I… just got scared,” Marina lied.
“Ah, right. Our nervous little one,” Nastya snorted, returning to the living room.
Marina’s mind raced. “They want to kick me out of my own home. That’s why Nastya showed up suddenly.”
Igor emerged whistle-humming from the bathroom.
“Oh, dropped the mug?” he smiled. “Don’t worry, we can get ten more like that.”
“Yeah,” Marina tried to smile back.
Igor kissed her on the head and headed to the bedroom.
That night, Marina lay awake. Beside her, Igor slept peacefully while she stared at the ceiling, thoughts swirling. Should she tell her husband? But he adored his sister and always took her side. Complain to her mother-in-law? She was in cahoots with Nastya, treating Marina coldly despite hiding it well.
“I have to take matters into my own hands,” Marina resolved by morning. But how?
Early next day, Marina tiptoed to the kitchen, her hands trembling so badly she missed the cup twice while spooning coffee.
“Calm down,” she whispered to herself. “Think.”
Her eyes landed on a lawyer’s business card stuck to the fridge from last month. Sergey Valentinovich had helped their neighbor settle property issues. Marina grabbed the phone.
“Hello, is this Sergey Valentinovich? This is Marina Kotova, Olga Petrovna’s neighbor. I urgently need consultation. Is today possible? At one o’clock? Great!”
Igor sleepily appeared in the kitchen, pillow marks on his cheek.
“Good morning,” he stretched toward Marina for a kiss. “What’s with the early wake-up?”
“Just… well-rested,” Marina looked away. “Igor, I’m seeing a friend today, okay? Haven’t met her in ages.”
“Who?”
“Lenka,” she blurted out hurriedly.
“Alright,” he yawned. “Nastya and I were going to the movies anyway. She asked yesterday.”
“Of course, she did,” Marina thought but stayed quiet.
At the lawyer’s office, the scent of coffee and paperwork filled the air. Sergey Valentinovich, a balding man with glasses, attentively listened.
“So, the apartment came from your husband’s grandmother… Are you officially registered there?”
“Yes, right after the wedding.”
“And whose name is on the ownership documents? Gift deed? Will?”
Marina blinked, confused.
“I don’t know… Igor handled everything.”
The lawyer sighed.
“First thing, find out who owns the apartment. If it’s only your husband, there’s a problem. If it belongs to both of you — his sister can do nothing.”
“How do I check that?”
“Order an extract from the official registry via government services. Do it today.”
Marina returned home with a clear plan, stepping over Nastya’s shoes in the hallway.
“Back already!” Nastya smirked, emerging from the kitchen. “Where were you? We thought you disappeared.”
“At a friend’s,” Marina replied calmly.
“Igor and I watched a movie,” Nastya said, leaning against the wall. “Brother’s still immature, picking dumb action flicks.”
Marina nodded and walked past. In the bedroom, she shut the door and quickly navigated the government website to order the registry extract, paid for it, and awaited results.
At night, once Igor was asleep and Nastya sequestered herself in the guest room, Marina checked her email. The registry extract had arrived. With trembling fingers, she opened it.
Owner: Sokolov Igor Alekseevich
Her breath caught. The apartment legally belonged to Igor alone; she was just registered there. Worry turned into anger. “Not on my watch!”
Early next morning, while everyone slept, Marina called the lawyer again.
“Sergey Valentinovich, there’s more…”
“Listen carefully. Have you been registered there more than three years?”
“Almost three.”
“Good. Then you have the right to live there. Plus, anything purchased during the marriage — furniture, appliances — is joint property. If you can prove you paid for renovations…”
“We did renovations!” Marina recalled the receipts she meticulously kept.
“You have solid chances. Gather all documents and above all, do not sign anything offered by your husband or his family.”
“Thank you!”
“And it’d be wise to inform your husband fully.”
Marina sighed.
“I doubt he’ll side with me.”
Over the next two days, Marina tiptoed through a minefield, smiling and cooking as usual despite the turmoil. Meanwhile, she gathered evidence: bills for furniture, appliances, repairs, bank statements proving her payments, and even scanned the prenuptial agreement detailing shared property.
On Monday, Nastya announced she would stay another week.
“I suddenly got a vacation,” she smiled sweetly at her brother. “You can’t kick your own sister out.”
“Stay as long as you like!” Igor laughed.
Marina clenched her teeth silently.
That evening, she overheard Nastya whispering on the phone:
“Mom, everything’s going according to plan… Yes, I’ll stay longer… No, that fool suspects nothing… The papers are almost ready… Igor will sign, what else can he do…”
Fury boiled within Marina. “No way, darling. You won’t succeed.”
The following day, she took a day off to visit the notary and government office. By evening, she had compiled a comprehensive folder and devised a strategy.
“Honey, maybe we should invite the parents over this weekend?” she casually suggested during dinner. “It’s been a while since the whole family gathered.”
Nastya raised her head, eyeing Marina suspiciously.
“Great idea!” Igor beamed. “Nastya, Mom will be happy you’re here too.”
“Of course,” Nastya murmured, smiling thinly.
Saturday morning saw Marina busy in the kitchen, cooking tirelessly. “The last family dinner,” she bitterly thought as she chopped vegetables for salad.
By 6 p.m., the table groaned under the feast. Igor’s parents, Alexey Petrovich and Vera Sergeevna, arrived. As usual, the mother-in-law cast a judging glance at Marina.
“You look well, Marina,” she commented, feigning warmth.
“Thank you,” Marina smiled back. “Please, have a seat.”
As everyone settled and began eating, Igor raised his glass:
“To family! To all of us together!”
“To family,” echoed Marina, taking a sip.
Nastya caught her eye and smirked faintly. Marina thought, “That smirk will vanish soon.”
“By the way,” she spoke louder, “I want to discuss something.”
Everyone turned to her.
“Igor, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Nastya and Mom a few days ago.”
The room fell silent. Nastya’s face went pale.
“About what?” Igor frowned.
“That your sister and mother plan to convince you to re-register the apartment solely in your name and evict me. Throw me out onto the street.”
“What nonsense?” Vera Sergeevna indignantly replied. “Igor, your wife’s lost her mind!”
“Marina, what’s this about?” Igor glanced uneasily between his wife, sister, and mother.
“I heard everything,” Marina declared firmly. “Word for word. Nastya said, ‘that idiot doesn’t even know she can be evicted,’ and Igor ‘will sign anything if asked right.’”
Nastya jumped to her feet:
“You eavesdropped on my conversations?!”
“I heard by accident while cleaning the kitchen,” Marina retorted. “But that’s irrelevant. What’s important is you want to kick me out of my home.”
“Your home?” the mother-in-law interrupted. “The apartment belongs to Igor! His grandmother gifted it to him!”
“Marina, this is nonsense,” Igor grabbed his wife’s hand. “Nobody intends to throw you out.”
Nastya and Vera exchanged glances.
“Here is the folder,” Marina pulled out her prepared documents. “This has everything you need to know.”
Igor opened it, shuffling through the papers.
“What’s this?” he looked confused.
“Receipts for all furniture, appliances, and renovation work,” Marina explained, pointing to a stack. “Here are my bank statements – half the expenses are on me. And this,” she took out a separate legal document, “is the lawyer’s opinion on my rights to the apartment.”
Nastya’s face went extremely pale.
“You went to a lawyer?” she whispered.
“Of course. As soon as I heard your plans. I won’t allow myself to be evicted from the home I invested time, effort, and money into.”
Igor looked up from the papers.
“Wait… Nastya, Mom, is this true? Were you really planning this?”
Vera nervously laughed.
“Igor, what foolishness! We were only discussing…”
“Discussing what exactly?” Marina cut her off. “How to deceive your son more effectively?”
“Don’t speak to my mother like that!” Nastya snapped.
“Don’t you dare plan to throw me out of my own home!” Marina raised her voice.
“Quiet!” Igor slammed the table. “Nastya, tell the truth.”
Nastya pursed her lips.
“We only wanted to protect your interests. You never know…”
“Protect? Protect what?” Igor flushed with anger. “I’ve been married to Marina for three years! We renovated together, bought furniture!”
“Son, but the apartment was your grandmother’s,” Vera interjected. “She gifted it to you, not both of you.”
“So?” Igor stood up. “Does that give you the right to decide my property behind my back?”
Alexey Petrovich, who had been silent, shook his head.
“Vera, Nastya, what are you doing? The boy is right. This looks bad.”
“Dad, you don’t get it!” Nastya threw up her hands. “What if they divorce? She’ll claim half the apartment!”
“So you were preparing for our divorce, huh?” Igor quietly asked his sister.
Nastya bit her tongue. Silence filled the room.
“You know what,” Marina packed the documents away. “I’ve already formalized everything. Filed a claim to determine my share of the apartment as marital property, accounting for all my investments — at least thirty percent. If you want a fight, bring it on. I won’t give up what’s mine.”
“Marina…” Igor rubbed his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Would you have believed me?” she smiled sadly. “You always say Nastya would never deceive you.”
Igor looked at his sister and mother differently now.
“I want you both to leave. Right now,” he said quietly.
“Igor!” Vera gasped.
“Leave!” he repeated louder. “I need to talk to my wife.”
Nastya grabbed her bag and stormed out. Vera rose slowly, casting a burning glance at Marina before exiting. Alexey Petrovich lingered at the door.
“Sorry, son. I didn’t know what they were planning.”
Once alone, Igor sat opposite Marina.
“Forgive me… I never imagined they could do such things.”
“And I never thought I’d have to defend myself from your family,” she whispered.
Within a month, everything was legally arranged. Marina became a co-owner of the apartment with a 40% share. Igor insisted she get more than the lawyer’s recommendation.
Nastya stopped visiting and rarely called, only to her brother, never asking about Marina. Vera remained formally polite but cold during family dinners, which now felt strained.
One evening, Igor hugged Marina.
“You know, I’m glad you were stronger and smarter than them all. That you didn’t let yourself be fooled.”
“I realized no one will fight for me but me alone,” she smiled. “Not even you.”
“It won’t happen again,” he kissed her forehead. “I promise.”
Marina nodded, no longer fearing to lose her home. She knew she would never allow anyone to decide her fate behind her back — neither her mother-in-law, sister-in-law, nor even her husband. From now on, only she would.
Key Takeaway: When family conflicts threaten your rights, timely legal action and self-advocacy are essential to protecting your home and dignity.