The smell of lemon cleaner filled the kitchen as I scrubbed the counters. The dishwasher hummed softly in the quiet house. Cleaning wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but it kept my hands busy and my mind calm. I had just tossed the sponge into the sink when the doorbell rang.
I wiped my hands on a towel and went to open the door. Standing there was a tall man, looking sharp and polished. His smile was so bright, it looked like it belonged in a toothpaste ad. In one hand, he held a leather briefcase. In the other, a shiny phone.
“Hello!” he said cheerfully. “I’m looking for Mr. Lambert. You must be the cleaning lady. Liliya, right?” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m David, his business partner. Nice to meet you.”
I blinked. Before I could say anything, he glanced at his watch and added, “Mrs. Lambert told me so much about you. She even showed me your picture.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Mrs. Lambert?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Yes!” he said with a laugh. “She and Greg are always such a great team.”
Mrs. Lambert? Then who was I supposed to be? Cleaning lady? My curiosity took over. If he thought I was someone else, I’d play along for now.
“Please, come in,” I said, giving a small bow and trying not to laugh at the ridiculous mix-up. “So, you’ve known Mr. and Mrs. Lambert a long time?”
“Oh, years,” David said, sinking onto the couch. “They’re quite the couple. Always look so happy together.”
I forced a polite smile. My heart pounded as I grabbed a glass of water, hoping to give myself a moment to think. Who was this Mrs. Lambert he was talking about?
David was scrolling through his phone when I came back. “You know, I have a picture of them. Want to see?”
He handed me the phone. My stomach dropped. There she was—my sister Allison, smiling with Greg, arm in arm.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” David said casually.
I fought to keep calm. “When was this picture taken?” I asked, my voice tight.
David didn’t notice my tension. “About a year ago, at a corporate event. Funny thing—Greg never talks about his private life. I thought he was single for the longest time. Then I ran into them on the street, and he introduced her as his wife.”
I swallowed hard and handed the phone back. My ears were ringing. David kept talking, unaware of the storm inside me.
“They’re such a lovely couple,” he said. “Oh, and Allison showed me a picture of you once. I asked her, ‘Who’s this beautiful woman?’ and she said, ‘Oh, that’s our cleaning lady.’”
My hands clenched the glass. Cleaning lady? Was this some kind of sick joke?
I put down the glass and forced a smile. “You must have lots of pictures of them.”
“Absolutely! Here’s another from the same event.” David looked at me with concern. “Liliya, are you okay?”
I took a deep breath and smiled faintly. “I’m fine. Would you like some coffee while you wait for Mr. Lambert?”
David smiled back, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
I walked back to the kitchen, thoughts swirling. Mrs. Lambert? My sister? What was going on here?
Returning to the living room, I tried to steady my heart. David sat on the couch, stirring the coffee I’d brought. He looked up and gave me a polite smile.
“David,” I said, my voice calm but firm, “we need to talk.”
His smile faded. “Uh, sure. About what?”
I pointed to the silver-framed photo on the mantel. “Take a closer look at this picture.”
He hesitated, then picked up the frame. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied it. “This… this is you,” he said slowly, confused.
“That’s right,” I said. “And the man beside me? That’s my husband, Greg Lambert.”
David blinked, gripping the frame tight. “Wait… what are you saying?”
I folded my hands in my lap and leaned forward. “I’m not the cleaning lady, David. I’m Mrs. Lambert. The real Mrs. Lambert.”
His face turned pale. He put the photo back carefully, like it burned him. “I… I don’t understand. I thought—”
“You thought Allison was Mrs. Lambert,” I finished.
He nodded, struggling. “She told me Greg introduced her as his wife. She even showed me pictures of the two of them together. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know!”
I let silence stretch between us, watching him squirm. Finally, I asked, “David, why did you come today?”
He sighed. “I came to convince Greg to sell his share of the business to me. But… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“Well, the share isn’t in Greg’s name,” David admitted nervously. “It’s under Mrs. Lambert’s name. Your name.”
“And my sister forged my signature to block the sale?” I asked sharply.
David’s eyes widened. “I… I didn’t know it was forged. I thought it was your decision.”
I laughed bitterly, hiding my anger. “It wasn’t. But thanks for confirming what I suspected.”
David looked like he wanted to disappear. “I feel terrible. I didn’t mean to drag you into this. If I’d known—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, voice steady but hard. “This isn’t your fault. But since you’re here, let’s finish this deal. How much are you offering for Greg’s share?”
David blinked, surprised by my change in tone. “Uh, the original offer was high, but I’m willing to go higher to get this done fast.” He named a number that made my head spin.
I kept my face calm, but my mind raced. “That’s acceptable. I’ll handle the paperwork. Can your legal team send the documents by tomorrow?”
“Yes, absolutely,” David said eagerly. “Thank you, Mrs. Lambert. I mean—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a faint smile. “Let’s just get this done.”
The next evening, Greg stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him. His face was red with anger, his tie loosened, jacket tossed over his arm.
“What the hell did you do?!” he shouted.
I was sitting on the couch, reading. I barely looked up. “Hello, Greg. Long day?”
“Don’t play games with me!” he yelled, throwing his jacket onto a chair. “You sold my share of the business! Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
I closed my book and set it on the table. “I know exactly what I did, Greg. I solved your little problem.”
“My problem?” His face got redder. “You had no right to sell that share! It’s my company, my future!”
I stood, facing him. “Wrong. The share was in my name. And after what I found out, I’m taking control.”
Greg’s anger faltered. “What… what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Allison,” I said, voice cold. “Your fake ‘wife.’ Or did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Greg froze, mouth open. “Listen, I can explain—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I’m done with your excuses. I already spoke to a lawyer. And yes, I’ll be filing for divorce.”
Greg’s jaw dropped. “Divorce? Are you serious?”
“As serious as ever,” I said, calm but firm. “And since you and Allison forged my signature, I’m entitled to compensation. The sale is done. David will transfer the money to my account this week.”
Greg collapsed into a chair. “You… you can’t do this. You’re ruining me.”
I crossed my arms, looking down at him. “No, Greg. You ruined yourself.”
Two weeks later, I walked out of my lawyer’s office with a signed divorce agreement and a new feeling—freedom. The settlement was generous.
Not only did I get my rightful share from selling Greg’s business, but I also received compensation for the fraud committed in my name. Justice had been served.
I cut ties with Greg and Allison. The lawyer stopped the fraud from going to court, but the threat shattered their web of lies. Greg lost his business. As far as I knew, Allison didn’t survive the fallout either.
For days, I replayed the betrayal in my mind—anger, sadness, confusion swirling inside me. But over time, anger turned to clarity. They had taken my trust for granted, but their lies showed me a strength I didn’t know I had.
Standing in my living room, I looked at the spot where Greg’s photo once hung. It was gone, replaced by a simple vase of fresh flowers. I smiled.
This wasn’t the end of my story. It was a new beginning. And this time, I would write it on my terms.
