For years, the mother-in-law humiliated her son’s wife—until the day she was served an eviction notice.

Liliya sat in her office, deep in thought. Important real estate documents lay spread out before her. She had inherited substantial property from her parents—three luxury apartments in a prestigious part of the city and a small shopping center on the outskirts. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the lines of a lease agreement, her eyes pausing on the name of the tenant—Alla Sergeyevna Voronova.
Her mother-in-law had no idea she was renting from her own daughter-in-law. Liliya had deliberately arranged everything through a real estate agency to keep the truth hidden. Three years ago, when she and Igor had just started dating, she had decided to keep her financial status a secret.
“My dear,” she had once reassured her embarrassed future husband, “I don’t care about money. What matters to me is how you treat me.”
Igor, an ordinary construction engineer with a modest salary, had blushed at her words.
“But how can someone like you be content with such a simple life?” he had asked hesitantly.
Liliya had only laughed and hugged him. “I love you, and that’s all that matters.”
So, she chose to keep her wealth private. She told Igor she worked as a manager at the shopping center but never mentioned she owned it. The apartment they lived in, she simply described as part of her inheritance.
Two years into their marriage, Liliya sometimes regretted her choice—especially when dealing with her mother-in-law. From the very start, Alla Sergeyevna had made it clear that she disapproved of her son’s wife.
“How could you marry someone like her?” she would constantly nag Igor. “She doesn’t cook, she doesn’t take care of the house. All she does is run off to work.”
Liliya endured these comments in silence, though they stung. She was willing to tolerate them for the sake of her husband. Even as her mother-in-law’s words grew more spiteful, she bit her tongue.
One evening, while preparing dinner, she overheard Alla Sergeyevna speaking on the phone:
“Can you believe it, Galina? That girl bought herself another expensive dress! I have no idea where she gets the money. Poor Igor must be spending all his savings on her.”
Liliya clenched the frying pan in her hand. The dress had been costly, but it had been bought with her own income—from the rent money she collected from tenants.
“My son has lost his mind,” her mother-in-law continued. “If it weren’t for him, she’d be living on the streets. No real education, no proper job…”
Liliya’s hands shook. She had graduated with top honors in two fields, but Igor had begged her not to tell his mother—she apparently didn’t approve of ‘overeducated’ women.
The criticisms never stopped. Every visit turned into an ordeal.
“This borscht is awful,” Alla Sergeyevna sneered after tasting Liliya’s cooking. “Back in my day, women knew how to cook before getting married.”
Liliya kept her composure. She had actually taken culinary courses before the wedding to make Igor happy. But no matter what she did, nothing was ever good enough for her mother-in-law.
As their anniversary approached, Liliya planned a special surprise for Igor. She secretly booked a two-week stay at a luxurious resort on the Turkish coast—hoping it might soften Alla Sergeyevna’s heart.
Placing the envelope with the tickets in her desk drawer, she smiled. Maybe, just maybe, this trip would change things.
But when Igor came home that evening, she noticed something was off. He was unusually quiet, eating his dinner without enthusiasm. Finally, he spoke.
“You know, Mom called today…” he hesitated.
Liliya’s stomach tightened. Conversations with his mother always made him stricter toward her.
“She said her rent increased,” he continued. “She’s struggling. Maybe we could help?”
Liliya’s heart sank. She had never raised the rent. Was Alla Sergeyevna lying to manipulate him?
Before she could respond, a loud knock sounded at the door.
The mother-in-law stood there, a triumphant look on her face.
“There you are!” she said, marching inside without even taking off her shoes. “I knew you’d be here, sitting down to dinner.”
“Mom?” Igor looked confused. “What’s wrong?”
“They’ve shut off the water in my building for repairs,” she declared. “I’ll be staying with you for a few days.” She dropped her bag onto the table, making herself at home.
Liliya stiffened. Tomorrow was their anniversary. The day after, they were supposed to leave for Turkey.
“Alla Sergeyevna, maybe—” Liliya began.
“Maybe what?” the older woman snapped. “Are you saying I can’t stay? My own son’s mother?” Her voice grew shrill. “I knew it! Now your true colors show! And you, Igor, can’t you see what kind of woman you married?”
“Mom, please,” Igor said, exasperated. “Liliya didn’t mean—”
“She wants to throw me out, doesn’t she?!” The mother-in-law’s theatrics escalated. “Look at this soup! It’s just water! Useless!”
“Mom, stop,” Igor sighed. “Liliya is a great cook.”
“You’re just blinded by her!” his mother accused. “I’ll stay and teach her how to run a proper household!”
Liliya took a deep breath.
“Igor,” she said evenly, “can we talk in private?”
As they stepped into the bedroom, they heard Alla Sergeyevna muttering, “There! She’s already trying to turn him against me!”
Liliya turned to her husband. “Igor, tomorrow is our anniversary. I planned a surprise—”
“What surprise is more important than my mother?” he interrupted. “She’s struggling! She wants to help us, teach you—”
Liliya’s patience finally snapped. “Teach me?” she echoed in disbelief. “She insults me every chance she gets! And you just let her!”
“She just cares about me,” Igor defended weakly.
Liliya exhaled sharply. “If you can’t see how toxic this is, then maybe you should leave with her.”
“What?” Igor looked stunned.
“You heard me. Take your mother and go.”
“You can’t kick us out! I’m your husband!”
Liliya calmly walked to the cabinet, pulled out the deed to the apartment, and handed it to him.
“Read this,” she said. “This is my apartment. You have no right to stay here without my consent.”
Igor’s face turned pale as he scanned the documents.
“But… all this time…” he stammered.
“Yes,” Liliya said. “I own this place. I own the building your mother rents from, too. And I reduced her rent. But she never appreciated it.”
A month later, Liliya finalized her divorce. Igor and his mother moved into a much smaller, more expensive apartment on the outskirts. Igor called her, sent flowers, begged for another chance—but Liliya had moved on.
Sitting in her office, she closed the file containing the final paperwork.
“For the first time in years,” she thought, “I am free.”
Losing a husband was painful, but finding herself again was worth it.