Of all the predators, he is the most dangerous. Of all the victims, she is the most daring. Runet's hit - "Contract with the Beast" by Natasha Storm. Read the book "Contract with the Beast" online in full - Natasha Storm - MyBook Contract with the Beast download in full

Natasha Storm

Beast Contract

novel

Shurka looked over the fence in the morning. Usually Nyusha got up early. But yesterday her mother came for her. Really take away to Moscow? And this is in the middle of summer! The cheerful country life was coming to an end, at least for her. The boy sighed heavily and pressed his back against the picket fence. Now his life will turn into a real hell. The townspeople were not favored here.

A gentle hand touched the red hair.

Nyusha! - The boy smiled broadly, demonstrating the absence of central teeth.

The blonde girl pushed the board aside and found herself in a neighbor's garden.

Why are you so dressed up? And I put on my shoes ...

I'm leaving, Shura. Yesterday I tried to persuade my mother all evening. She doesn't want to listen. He says that it's enough to knead the manure. And who is kneading him here?

But what about the river?

Goodbye, river, goodbye, Shura. I don't know if I'll see you next year.

See you, definitely see you.

You feel good, - the girl sighed, - your grandmother lives here, dear. And I have so, seventh water on jelly.

The boy took out a wooden heart-shaped pendant from his pocket.

This is for you. I did it myself.

Turning the decoration over, Nyusha smiled: "To Happiness!"

Embracing her friend, she hurried to her yard.

I love you, Shurka. I will never forget you!

I love you too, Nyusha!

And why am I paying you money?

The head of the security service Yegor Vorontsov, who solved all the delicate issues of the First Free Industrial Corporation Titanium, and at the same time the personal problems of his boss, was silent, realizing that the question was rhetorical.

I ask, why the fuck?

Vorontsov expected that a truly Russian continuation would follow the harmless beginning, but the quintessence was never followed. The new psychologist, who was paid fantastic money by the owner, worked it out for "five". Or maybe the pills helped? Be that as it may, the chef kept himself in control, although it was clear from the sternly drawn eyebrows that this was given to him with difficulty.

Alexander Mazharov got up from the table and walked around the spacious office. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale! And so ten times. Now inhale very slowly and exhale quickly. Heck! Nothing helped today! Through the panoramic windows, a wonderful view of the night New York opened. The city did not sleep. He never slept. But the man simply collapsed from fatigue. The phone on the table emitted a melodic trill. This was the last straw, and all weekly sessions went down the drain. Mazharov jumped to the vibrating apparatus and irritatedly pressed the speakerphone.

Baby! the pipe purred. “I've been waiting for you at Daniel's for an hour. I was chilled and soaked just to my panties. If you don't show up in five minutes ...

Mazharov boiled over.

Fuck you! Forget this number!

An expensive "Diamond Crypto Smartphone" flew into a corner, but did not crash. Vorontsov smiled. The new passion of Alexander Sergeevich, another long-legged model with such a romantic name Anabel, has just added to the list of “former” ones. However, if the chef decides to return to her when, a small ring with a brullik will settle all misunderstandings. Baby Belle was no different from her unencumbered predecessors. And, after spending a couple of nights in the boss's bed, I never realized that the owner did not tolerate such frivolous treatment.

Mazharov again glared at everything-assistant and sighed deeply.

Thank God, she is beginning to come to her senses. Yegor knew that the chef was quick-tempered, but adequate. Now he will calm down and understand that in the situation that has arisen, he, Vorontsov, is not to blame.

I listen to your suggestions.

The head of the security service put a bulky folder on the table.

These are all potential suppliers, from large companies to small firms. The sheets are in the order of possible cooperation, from the most profitable to the unlikely. All pros and cons are described in great detail.

Mazharov skimmed through the folder.

It's all nonsense. It won't do! I need a contract with the Japanese. Hubbity enjoys unrivaled prestige. It is their electronics that I need. Besides, you said yourself that soon they will launch something special on the market ...

Vorontsov shrugged his shoulders.

The idea of fuel-free engines has been exciting the minds of scientists for a long time. Solar panels, windmills ... But to enable ships to process the energy of the sea itself!

So is there really nothing we can do?

Vorontsov pulled out another folder from the cabinet.

Mr. Kimura is a big weirdo. He has his own life principles. He does business only with impeccable partners and reputable companies.

I was jumping down the corridor, trying to hit both my sneaker and the sleeves of my jacket at the same time when the phone rattled in my bag. I had to empty out all of its contents before I discovered that the miniature device was beeping in a buttoned pocket.

- Hello! Anna Igorevna? This is Evgeny Blinov. Remember?

- Hello, Zhenya!

- I am ... going to meet the chef ... I want to know, have you agreed on the money? I made the car, I can show all the checks. But the money had to be withdrawn from the corporate card. I'm afraid the boss might find out.

I brushed all the small things into my bag.

- No, I did not find it. But I am ready to meet with your boss. We can draw up documents on the security of my apartment, negotiate the terms.

The man was silent.

- I do not even know. The chief is a very specific person.

- Come on. He will not eat me, after all. I don’t want you to get in trouble.

- Good. I'll talk to him.

- That's agreed. I'm on the site now. And since two I have an appointment at the clinic. If by one o'clock ... I will drive up to any place.

- Swept over. I'll call you back.

Already about to leave, I noticed a sleepy Romka, who hesitated at the door of the room.

- Are you going to school?

The son ruffled his hair.

- We have the first two lessons of physical training. And so - I'm going.

- Consider. From next year you will go to physical training, how cute. It's time to become a man.

- Well, mom!

I vowed that I would not write any more phony certificates for my son. Thank God, he has already outgrown all his ailments. No more indulgences!

Eugene called about twelve.

- Anna Igorevna! I spoke to the chief. At exactly one o'clock he will have lunch at the Continental restaurant. Do you know where it is?

You shouldn't know. A modern residential complex with excellent infrastructure for the urban elite. Once I was even invited to work at a new medical center. But it was far from home, and to whom would I leave my old ladies? Vera Lvovna alone, what was it worth ...

- Just please don't be late. The chef doesn't like that.

I looked at my watch. Perhaps I'll have to take a taxi again, otherwise I won't have time.

Two minutes before the deadline, I broke into the restaurant and quickly walked to the only occupied table.

No, I couldn't be wrong. This is approximately how I imagined the formidable boss of the unfortunate Eugene. Broad-shouldered, moderately pumped up, in an expensive business suit, he gave the impression of being the master of life. To complete the picture, a dozen bodyguards and a couple of girls on their knees were missing.

- Mrs. Danilova?

I chuckled. Yes, madam, you will not say anything. My worn sneakers, an old windbreaker and jeans faded from time to time did not give the slightest reason to doubt the correct handling. Balancing my breathing, I just nodded.

- Sit down and order something for your taste.

The big boss was just kidding. How could I swallow even a crumb in such a situation?

- I don't eat in restaurants.

- I'm treating.

How cute! We have nowhere to put our money!

- It's not about finances. I eat at home what I cook myself. In any case, the chance that someone will spit in my soup is reduced to zero.

The man laughed. His face changed immediately. I involuntarily noted that, although it was difficult to call him a written handsome man, he possessed a large share of male attractiveness and inexplicable charisma. Large nose, square chin, dark brown eyes. Copper hair gleamed like a mummer.

- You won't spoil my appetite. But I can't eat when someone is sitting opposite with an empty plate.

- Then let's finish our business as soon as possible, I will leave and will not interfere with your digestion.

The man pushed the half-eaten steak to the edge of the table and dialed a few numbers on an expensive phone.

- Evgeniy. To me. With documents.

A minute later my shaved friend showed up with a leather folder in his hand.

- Free.

The guy left without a word.

- So, about the case.

A stack of papers appeared on the table.

“Here's a bill for the damage done to my property. This is the banks' confirmation that your loans have been repaid. Help from the management company. I paid for utilities four months in advance at the average rate. And here is a ticket for your son to a language camp in Houston for the same four months.

I slowly returned my lower jaw to its place, trying to digest what I heard. No, with the first paper everything was clear. Blame - pay. Putting it aside, I stared at the others.

- I do not understand something?

The man smiled predatory.

- Everything is very simple. Today you owe me seven hundred and fifty thousand Russian rubles. I can convert to dollars if you wish ...

- Nonsense! Why did you buy my loans? She paid herself on the sly, did not create problems for the banks. And this! What language camp? My son's school year is not over.

- I'll make an agreement with the teachers.

I put the papers aside, among which I could not find a certificate from a psychiatrist.

- What do you want from me?

The big boss leaned back in his chair.

- Now this is a business conversation. No prefaces. I need a wife on a contract for three or four months. This is a condition for successful cooperation with my foreign partner. You are perfect for the role of Mrs. Mazharova.

I looked at my interlocutor apprehensively. I wonder if crazy businessmen are dangerous? In any case, I decided not to anger the gentleman, how is he? Mazharova.

- Listen. This is some kind of theater of the absurd. I am completely unsuitable for the role of your wife. Your status is supposed to be a long-legged model of about twenty, preferably a blonde. And I'm thirty-six, and I'm worn out by life and battered by circumstances.

Mazharov laughed.

- It's up to me to decide. In short, you have two options. Either today at ten in the evening you bring here the full amount, or you come to sign a contract. Yes, dress decently.

- At ten? But I have a son. What will I tell him?

The man widened his eyes.

- What do you tell a guy of sixteen? Just don't try to convince me that he is still breastfed and you have to change his diapers.

I inhaled heavily.

- Good. I will try to find money.

- Evgeny will pick you up. Get ready by nine thirty.

I nodded, got up and walked to the door. Just don't turn around! My windbreaker got hot from the gaze of the inadequate gentleman. Thoughts worked feverishly. Money! Where can I find money?

I received this book in a distribution on the site, which, of course, was very pleasant (who doesn't like to receive gifts?). To be honest, I didn't expect too much from her, because I don't really believe in marketing slogans like "Runet Star" or "The book that exploded the ratings of electronic sales" and, on the whole, turned out to be right. I did not like. I won't say that everything is really bad right out of the box, it's just that I, as a reader, do not relate to its target audience. Well, I don’t like used Cinderella fairy tales and I hate erotic exercises in the style of “Fifty Shades of Gray”. If you don’t dislike this kind of storylines, it’s likely that the book will be to your liking, and I’ll probably exchange it for something more interesting to me, since the Library Night will take place in a couple of days, and it will not be difficult to do this.

Briefly about the plot: Anna, a lady in her thirties, a modest district therapist, vegetating in a municipal clinic and single-handedly raising a sixteen-year-old son, as a result of one unpleasant incident is forced to agree to a not quite decent offer of a certain wealthy Western businessman, who, in order to make a good impression possible business partners urgently needed a spouse (girls with legs from ears and a minimum of intelligence, with whom he was used to dealing, are not suitable for this, it is precisely a middle-aged lady, intelligent, modest and tasteful) that is needed. The marriage contract is concluded for a rather short period, but the businessman is not used to throwing money down the drain, therefore, this marriage should not be fictitious. That is, sex is required. Anna is horrified - after the death of her husband, she shunned men for a long time, and Alexander (that is the name of the main character) is insistent to the point of being rude. But there is nowhere to go - the well-being of her only son depends on her, and she is forced to come to terms with the condition. However, she did not regret it for long - unexpectedly, the temporary husband managed to pick up the key to her body, and then to her heart.

Actually, erotic scenes between newly-made spouses (including those with BDSM), interspersed with action-packed showdowns in the field of big business - this is the whole plot of the book. There will also be a couple of "completely unexpected" coincidences, which can be guessed literally from the first lines and everything will end, of course, with the victory of the forces of good - a temporary marriage will become permanent, and a gorgeous secular butterfly with impeccable taste and high morality will hatch from a gray nondescript pupa (and a history of unexpected inheritance). In general, entertaining nonsense at one time.

However, the book still has one indisputable advantage - it reads very quickly.

Any use of the material in this book, in whole or in part, without the permission of the copyright holder is prohibited.

© Natasha Shtorm, 2017

© AST Publishing House LLC, 2018

Prologue

A gentle hand touched the red hair.

- Nyusha! - The boy smiled broadly, demonstrating the absence of central teeth.

The blonde girl pushed the board aside and found herself in a neighbor's garden.

- Why are you so dressed up? And I put on my shoes ...

- I'm leaving, Shurka. Yesterday I tried to persuade my mother all evening. She doesn't want to listen. He says that it's enough to knead the manure. And who is kneading him here?

- But what about the river?

- Goodbye, river, goodbye, Shura. I don't know if I'll see you next year.

- See you, be sure to see you.

- You feel good, - the girl sighed, - your grandmother lives here, dear. And I have so, seventh water on jelly.

The boy took out a wooden heart-shaped pendant from his pocket.

- This is for you. I did it myself.

Turning the decoration over, Nyusha smiled: "To Happiness!"

Embracing her friend, she hurried to her yard.

- I love you, Shurka. I will never forget you!

- I love you too, Nyusha!

Chapter 1

- And why am I paying you money?

- I ask, why, your mother?

- Baby! The pipe purred. “I've been waiting for you for an hour at Daniel's. I was chilled and soaked just to my panties. If you don't show up in five minutes ...

Mazharov boiled over.

- Fuck you! Forget this number!

An expensive "Diamond Crypto Smartphone" flew into a corner, but did not crash.

Vorontsov smiled. The new passion of Alexander Sergeevich, another long-legged model with such a romantic name Anabel, has just added to the list of “former” ones. However, if the chef decides to return to her when, a small ring with a brullik will settle all misunderstandings. Baby Belle was no different from her unencumbered predecessors. And, after spending a couple of nights in the boss's bed, I never realized that the owner did not tolerate such frivolous treatment.

Mazharov again glared at everything-assistant and sighed deeply.

- I'm listening to your suggestions.

The head of the security service put a bulky folder on the table.

- These are all potential suppliers, from large companies to small firms. The sheets are in the order of possible cooperation, from the most profitable to the unlikely. All pros and cons are described in great detail.

Mazharov skimmed through the folder.

- It's all nonsense. It won't do! I need a contract with the Japanese. Hubbity enjoys unrivaled prestige. It is their electronics that I need. Besides, you said yourself that soon they will launch something special on the market ...

Vorontsov shrugged his shoulders.

- The idea of fuel-free engines has excited the minds of scientists for a long time. Solar panels, windmills ... But to enable ships to process the energy of the sea itself!

- So is there really nothing we can do?

Vorontsov pulled out another folder from the cabinet.

“Mr. Kimura is a big weirdo. He has his own life principles. He does business only with impeccable partners and reputable companies.

- It's clear. But why does the Titan not suit him? Our reputation in the market is impeccable.

- Yes, chief, but here is your ...

Mazharov sat down in a leather chair and wearily closed his eyes. Well, he was unlucky enough to meet the one, the only one, so now, to accept celibacy?

- If you get married immediately, I think we will settle everything. Mr. Kimura will see that you are a solid, wise father of the family, not a playboy who wasted life. And then - get divorced for health.

It is easy to say, get married. On whom? Alexander thought about it. The foolish girls with doll-like faces who followed him in droves were no good. How could he introduce one of them to a Japanese obsessed with the cult of the family? He will only exacerbate his already faulty reputation. And girls from the category of decent will never go to such a scam.

- How much time do we have?

Vorontsov shrugged his shoulders.

- A month, at most one and a half. And then, if no one hurries up earlier.

Mazharov smiled predatory.

- Let's share the responsibilities. While I am getting married, you will do everything so that no one intercepts this damn contract during my forced absence.

- Absences?

- Yes. I am flying to Russia. Finding a wife for a couple of months is easier there. I will pay for services, buy clothes, an apartment, in the end, and quietly divorce. No further hype, no blackmail, no revelations and explanations with the press. If everything goes smoothly, Mr. Kimura won't even know about my divorce.

- It is logical.

- Book tickets for the next flight.

Chapter 2

I was completely exhausted, returning from the site to the clinic. I could have gone home right away, but my beloved patient Vera Lvovna, whom everyone, from the head physician to the elderly nurse, was called by the name of a retired Lioness, deigned to measure her blood pressure. She trusted only me to do such a responsible procedure, and then with the help of the antediluvian apparatus "Riva-rocchi" brought from home, where a mercury column was running like in a thermometer. Neither a nurse nor other GPs were fit for such an honorable role. Vera Lvovna scribbled complaints to the Ministry of Health on any trifle, demanding immediate checks, fines and execution of those responsible. I had angelic patience, so they gave me a crazy pensioner not from my site as a rolling pennant. Sometimes it seemed to me that a malevolent old woman with a manicure at a third of my salary simply set herself the goal of annihilating me, and sometimes I sincerely sympathized with her, as a lonely and deeply unhappy person.

Running into the building, I caught the confused look of the receptionist Lenochka on myself and rushed to the office. Vera Lvovna was sitting on a hard couch with an invariable cardboard box in which the ill-fated tonometer lay, and defiantly glanced at her watch.

- And I really thought, my dear, that you would not show up for work. There are five minutes left until the end of the shift.

I smiled, trying to get the key in the keyhole.

- At least five minutes, but ours! There were many challenges.

Having pushed open the door, I got into my office and flipped the switch. The pensioner took out the device, put it on the table and rolled up the sleeve of her fashionable blouse. Yes, the old woman had money, and she did not deny herself anything. Having thoroughly washed my hands, put on a white robe and buttoned it up, I sat down at the table and unrolled the cuff.

- Relax, Vera Lvovna, breathe calmly, think about pleasant things.

Pumping air with a rubber bulb, I listened to the tones through an old phonendoscope.

- One hundred thirty to eighty. Good enough. With such pressure it is possible, if not into space, then to some sanatorium ...

As the widow of a former plant director and a prominent party worker, the old woman was entitled to free tickets, but she simply ignored them. But in vain. The lioness could not even imagine that for twenty-one days the entire huge team of our district polyclinic would rest with her.

- At eighty, you say? - The pensioner began fanning herself with a coquettish fan. - Something a little too much. Do not you think? Write me the tests for tomorrow. Blood, urine and all that!

I gritted my teeth.

- But, Vera Lvovna! You handed over everything a week ago. For your age, you have excellent indicators.

- Do you think so? She buttoned the mother-of-pearl button on her sleeve and pursed her lips resentfully.

- Do you want me to listen to you, well ... heart, lungs?

The old woman came to life and rushed behind the screen to undress.

The phone in my trousers pocket, set to vibro, simply ripped apart. Walking over to the sink, I quietly pulled it out and looked at the screen. A son. Probably, again I could not find something to eat, and it was not enough to fry potatoes or scrambled eggs. Calculating that two hundred rubles, which were in my wallet, would be enough for bread, a pack of inexpensive sausages and a carton of milk, I pressed "hang up". Wait. After all, the mother is not out for a party.

- Darling! I will wait a long time, or did you decide to freeze me?

- I'm already running, Vera Lvovna.

After prescribing vitamins and shuffling my foot, I saw the restless patient and was left alone. There was no longer any strength to go home. If not for Romka, I would have spent the night here, in her office, on a couch covered with oilcloth. The phone shook my pocket again.

- Yes, son! I'll be home soon. Fire some scrambled eggs and sit down to your lessons.

- It's not your son who speaks to you. My surname is Blinov. I'm afraid your son is in big trouble. So drive up immediately ...

A hoarse baritone dictated the address, and I automatically wrote it down in my notebook. Everything floated before my eyes. What's with Romka? Is he alive? I constantly dialed my son's number, but no one answered the phone. Taxis were parked near the metal fence. Jumping into the first car, I held out my notebook. The language did not obey. The driver studied the address.

- Two hundred rubles.

- Yes, just faster, please.

Even from a distance, I saw that on the opposite side, in unnaturally advanced positions to the oncoming lane, there were two cars. I recognized my husband's racing "Ferrari" immediately, but the name of the huge black tank with a ripped side off remained a mystery. I did not understand foreign cars, although I lived with a first-class driver for six years. Next to the car stood my Romka, safe and sound, and a huge shaved-headed fellow in a strict suit towered over him. Little rascal! I took my father's car again! Anger at his son smoothly passed on to the man. Just think, scratched the wheelbarrow! I could say it right away, and not scare me over the phone.

- Stop here. - I pulled out two hundred-ruble banknotes from my wallet.

- It's impossible here.

- Turn on the emergency gang. I need to go out. My son is there. - I pointed my hand in the direction of the accident.

The driver braked.

- Well, you got to, mother, on the grandmother!

I jumped out of the car and, having crossed two lanes in the wrong place, ended up near Roman.

My son hid his eyes. Really realized? The shaven-headed man looked at me sternly, as if I had done the job with his car.

- And that's all that interests you in this situation, mother?

I shrugged.

- That is, you think it is in the order of things that a sixteen-year-old boy rushes around the city in a sports car at a speed of more than a hundred kilometers, does not look either at signs or at traffic lights ... This car, - he jabbed his finger into a scratch, - left the salon for only three hours back. Tomorrow I will meet the boss. What will I tell him?

I perfectly understood the man's indignation.

- The scratch is not that deep. Thank God there are no dents. How many?

The man, it seems Blinov, scratched his square chin.

- If we go to our friends, we will keep within two hundred. But I don't have any familiar craftsmen in this city.

- How many?

- Ma, this is really cheap.

I gave my son a sonorous slap in the face. Yes, I won't earn that kind of money in a year, taking into account the fact that you need to eat, feed the little rascal and pay for loans and utilities.

- I'll get the money. Here is my passport and driver's license. You can take it as collateral.

Blinov carefully leafed through his passport.

- Clear. Danilova Anna Igorevna. Local registration. What is your occupation?

- Therapist at the district clinic.

- I see, budget girl. He grinned wryly. - Do you have a husband?

- He died ten years ago.

- Clear.

- Why do you understand everything?

The man returned my documents.

- It is clear that hour after hour is not easier. Where will you get the money, dear?

I lifted my chin proudly.

After exchanging receipts, we got into the cars and drove off. I hated cars in all their forms. One of them made me a widow at twenty-six, and the other just made a huge hole in the family budget, which constantly required more and more injections. Nevertheless, I got behind the wheel of the damned Ferrari and gasped.

- Ma! Everything will be fine. I gave Uncle Pasha's phone number. He did not put such "behi" on his feet.

I was silent, biting my lip so as not to burst into tears right behind the wheel, hard to figure out where to get such an amount. The loan was dropped immediately. Three were already hanging on me. There was no one to borrow from. All my friends worked with me in the same clinic and also barely made ends meet. There was only one hope left - to find your prodigal parent.

My father and I did not communicate for twenty years, and to be absolutely precise, twenty-two years. It was then, in the midst of the nineties, that he abandoned my mother and me and rushed off to America. The first time we waited, living on a grand scale, without denying ourselves anything. Mom used to sew dresses from the best dressmakers and go to the best hairdressers. More precisely, it was they, dressmakers, hairdressers and manicurists, who came to our huge apartment on the Patriarch's. We did not eat delicacies, but the products in the refrigerator were always of the highest quality: meat from the market, milk and cottage cheese from the village, bread from the best bakery. But the money was melting, and dad did not even think to return. Soon he called and said that he had met another woman, the love of his life, and now his home in New York. Mom didn't know what to do. She never worked, naively thinking that money in the nightstand multiplies by budding.

I decided to at least survive, but it was not easy. The Moscow apartment turned out to be a departmental one. Mother cried until morning, collecting things. And then the train took us to the Caucasus, where in a tiny town my grandfather and grandmother lived in a solid three-ruble note. In the past, grandfather was also a statesman, but, unlike his short-sighted son-in-law, he managed to transfer the property into ownership. Mom had to moderate her appetites. She behaved courageously.

My relatives left this world quickly, one by one. First the grandmother, and then the grandfather. This is how we were left without a livelihood. When I was fifteen, I went to work. My "sex" life included three entrances of a five-story building and a small store, which I washed at night. God knows what money, but enough for food. But, apparently, fate thought it was not enough of all that she had already poured on my head. To top it all off, my mother fell ill. A nervous breakdown led to a stroke. And that's fifty! Now I hardly understand how I managed to finish school then and go to college. I skillfully injected intravenous infusions, put on droppers, spoon-fed my mother, soaped, turned over, passed sessions and worked as a nurse in a military hospital. There I met Max, who was recovering from pneumonia. And it started spinning. After demobilization, he moved in with me. We signed quietly and healed in perfect harmony. Although who am I lying to?

Romka and I parked in the yard and went up to the third floor.

- Keys to the garage. Quickly!

Romka reluctantly took out a weighty key from his pocket, which I immediately attached to my bunch.

- Tomorrow I'll drive the car away. And if you ... more ... just once ...

The son put his hands forward, as if defending himself from me.

- I swear by the dearest.

I sat down wearily on the ottoman, pulling off my sneakers. Legs just buzzed.

“Never swear by anything. Fate will not forgive this.

My little man was already busy in the kitchen.

- Ma! And what to eat?

- Fire the eggs! I didn't buy anything.

When I reached the large room, I fell onto the sofa, grabbing the telephone. I knew the number by heart. After three rings, the phone was answered.

My throat was dry and disgustingly sucked in the stomach.

- Dad, hello. It's me.

It’s strange that in so many years my father hasn’t changed his number. Silence.

- Hello, Anya. Just please speak English. Your stepmother loves to eavesdrop.

- How are you, dad?

- As you can hear, while he is alive. And you? Are you all right? However, what am I talking about? If it were, you wouldn't have called.

- You're right. I've always been too proud to ask you for anything. But now it's about your grandson.

The father coughed.

- Grandson? Do I have a grandson?

- Yes. And he's sixteen.

- And are you married? Happy?

I sighed heavily.

- My husband died. Mom, grandfather, grandmother ... There was no one left. Romka and I live together. Something like this.

Coughing again. I tried to define. Dry, hysterical, with shortness of breath.

- No, Anya. Cancer. Fourth stage. I am lying all in tubes and wires.

I felt that tears welled up in my eyes.

- Daddy! Forgive me! Forgive not calling earlier, forgive the fool. Is there anything I can do for you?

The father chuckled.

- Nothing. I think I don't have much left. You won't even have time to fly. So what happened to you?

I tried to pull myself together.

- Nothing serious. So, I wanted to consult about your education in America.

- This is right. He coughed again. - I made a will. You will get good money, daughter. Hellen will not lose too. There will be nothing to dispute. My grandson will be able to study at the best university in the world. Forgive me baby, forgive me for everything. I left you with my mother in difficult times, but now I will die happy, knowing that I have a grandson and that I can at least partially atone for my guilt.

- Daddy! Don't ask for forgiveness. I love you. Talk to me a little more!

- Goodbye Baby. I love you too. - Cough.

There were short beeps in the receiver. I buried myself in the pillow and burst into tears in my voice. When she looked up, she saw Romka. In one hand he held a plate of fried eggs, and in the other a mug of tea.

- Mom! What's the matter? I brought you something to eat. Is it about money?

I shook my head.

- No, son. Your American grandfather is dying, and I can't even see him.

Roman left dinner on the coffee table and hugged me.

- Mom! Don't cry! I will soon finish school, study to be a financier and arrange such a life for you, as in a fairy tale.

CHAPTER 3

I was jumping down the corridor, trying to hit both the sneaker and the sleeves of the jacket at the same time when the phone rattled in my bag. I had to empty out all of its contents before I discovered that the miniature device was beeping in a buttoned pocket.

- Hello! Anna Igorevna? This is Evgeny Blinov. Remember?

- Hello, Zhenya!

- I am ... going to meet the chief. I want to know, have you agreed on the money? I made the car, I can show all the checks. But the money had to be withdrawn from the corporate card. I'm afraid the boss might find out.

I brushed all the small things into my bag.

- No, I did not find it. But I'm ready to meet with your boss. We can draw up documents on the security of my apartment, negotiate the terms.

The man was silent.

- I do not even know. The chief is a very specific person.

- Come on. He will not eat me, after all. I don't want you to get in trouble.

- Good. I'll talk to him.

- That's agreed. I'm on the site now. And since two I have an appointment at the clinic. If only by one o'clock. I will drive up to any place.

- Swept over. I'll call you back.

Already about to leave, I noticed a sleepy Romka, who hesitated at the door of the room.

- Are you going to school?

The son ruffled his hair.

- We have the first two lessons of physical training. And so - I'm going.

- Consider. From next year you will go to the gym like a cute one. It's time to become a man.

- Well, mom!

I vowed that I would not write any more phony certificates for my son. Thank God, he has already outgrown all his sores. No more indulgences!

Eugene called about twelve.

- Anna Igorevna! I spoke to the chief. At exactly one o'clock he will have lunch at the Continental restaurant. Do you know where it is?

- Just please don't be late. The chef doesn't like that.

I looked at my watch. Perhaps I'll have to take a taxi again, otherwise I won't have time.

Two minutes before the appointed time, I broke into the restaurant and quickly walked to the only occupied table.

- Mrs. Danilova?

A wallet to pay for the next courses.

- A son! You will go with my patient, Vera Lvovna Lisitsyna. She is an elderly and difficult person. Try not to ruin your relationship with her.

- And what is the name of my benefactor?

- Alexander. I don’t know the patronymic.

- Lisitsyn?

- No, Mazharov, probably his father's surname.

I was busy with dinner when Roman brought his fancy laptop into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

- Mother, look.

I dried my hands with a towel and moved closer. Pictures of a crazy businessman flashed on the Internet. Here he is surrounded by girls, here on a yacht, here at some presentation. I walked over to the stove.

- And your Mazharov is a rich man! By the way, he is not married.

I shuddered.

- I don't care much about this man. But now I owe him like land to a collective farm.

Romka chuckled.

- Ma, even if he has a bunch of dibs, why send me to France, to spend so unreasonably?

I shrugged, trying not to turn to face my son.

- Someone must accompany his mother. At this age, it is scary to travel alone. And then, Vera Lvovna praised me so much that he decided to thank me. In May, you fly to Houston, to a language camp, for the whole summer.

Through the silence of my son, I realized that he was in a state of deep shock. Turning around a little, I saw that I was not mistaken.

- This is class! How did you hook him so?

I put a salad and a platter of cutlets on the table.

- Some just like to do good. Mr. Mazharov is starting repairs in the polyclinic too. I just got to the right place at the right time. And now eat and sleep. Wake up tomorrow at five in the morning.

I didn't have to repeat it twice. Having satiated the growing body, my son disappeared into the bedroom, and a minute later I already heard peaceful snoring. I couldn't close my eyes all night. Where am I getting myself? What will happen next? To somehow distract myself, I turned on the old computer and entered the site "Women's Novel". All my friends have been on it for several months now. Yes, this is what got us out of depression. A huge number of fun and completely free books about love. I have collected a whole virtual library. Glancing through the novelties, she called Victoria Zhdanova. I enthusiastically read all ten of her books. Yeah, new novel "The Climber's Wife". Glancing through the text, I sighed heavily. No. This is just an announcement and the first two chapters. I didn't like to read in parts. I'll wait until it comes out completely. But something got me hooked. After reading the last of thirty pages laid out, I broke out in sticky sweat. It seemed to me that someone was spying on me through the keyhole. The whole fate of Alla, the main character, was completely written off from mine. Only her husband was not a professional racer, but a climber. Dabbing my flaming face with a damp cloth, I clicked on the author's name. The site has kindly reported that there is no biography of Victoria, but the administration is working on it. On the Internet, there were a million women who fell under the scanty data of the writer, from very young to deep old women. No, one of my friends was doing the paperwork, that's for sure. Just who? I decided to follow the publications. I will find a clue and bring the devil to clean water! With this thought, I fell on the bed and forgot myself in a sensitive, restless sleep.

The airport where Evgeniy took us to was crowded. Mazharov was nowhere to be seen. It made me happy. I gave a bunch of the last and most recent control points to my dunce, but Vera Lvovna asked not to worry.

- I can handle boys. You can't get overwhelmed with me.

I waited until the plane took off, heading for Moscow, and left the building. Eugene was waiting for me in the car. After parting with my son, I felt devastated.

- Don't worry like that, Anna Igorevna! In two hours they will be in the capital. There they will be met, taken to a restaurant, and fed. And at one o'clock they will go to France.

- Will they meet? Has your boss got it all covered?

Zhenya nodded.

- The chief is a normal man, albeit a sharp one. You can negotiate with him.

- I already noticed it. Where are we going?

The driver smiled.

- Alexander Sergeevich ordered to take you to the Continental. There is a decent shopping center, it works around the clock. Ordered to change your wardrobe using an unlimited card. Then a beauty salon, and only then home.

- Alexander Sergeevich? Almost Pushkin.

- Almost. The driver laughed.

- Give me your boss's phone number.

Eugene dictated eleven numbers.

- Hello! Anna? What happened? Did you miss? - Mazharov's voice was cheerful. The sound of water was heard nearby.

- What does all this mean, Alexander Sergeevich? There was no agreement about clothing.

The receiver laughed.

- Not only clothes. More shoes and sexy underwear. Eugene is aware of my predilections. He