The Best Revenge Is Success
Anton had always believed he was the architect of his own destiny. Even back in college, he moved through life with a confidence that left his classmates in awe. While others were buried in textbooks, Anton was already making money—flipping cars, assembling custom computers, always hustling for the next big thing.
It was during those years that he met Albina. She was nothing like the lively, carefree girls he usually dated—quiet, studious, absorbed in her foreign language studies. And yet, something about her intrigued him.
Anton knew how to charm, and Albina, despite her cautious nature, couldn’t resist the attention of the confident, popular young man. Their courtship was fast and intense.
“You’re too beautiful to waste your time studying,” Anton told her one evening. “Marry me. I’ll take care of everything.”
Albina hesitated. “I want to be a translator—to travel, to meet people from all over the world.”
Anton laughed. “You’ll meet plenty of people through my business.”
In the end, he convinced her. They married, and life was good. Money was never an issue. Soon, their first child, Dimka, was born. Albina devoted herself entirely to motherhood. A few years later, their daughter, Lenochka, arrived.
Caring for two children was overwhelming, and Albina suggested hiring a nanny so she could at least continue some part-time work. But Anton refused. “A mother should raise her own children,” he insisted. So, she pushed aside her dreams and threw herself into family life.
As the years passed, Anton became more absorbed in his business. He claimed every penny went into investments, yet he always had money for the latest gadgets, expensive suits, and outings with friends. Meanwhile, Albina found herself stretching every household expense. When she asked for a simple hairdryer to replace her old one, Anton dismissed it as unnecessary.
She hardly saw him anymore. And when he was home, he was always glued to his phone. If she suggested going out as a family, he was too busy. But for his friends? He always made time.
Then, one evening, without warning, he dropped a bombshell.
“I think we should split up,” he said casually over dinner. “This whole family thing—it’s just not for me anymore. I need my freedom.”
Albina stared at him in disbelief. “What about the children? What about me?”
“You’ll manage,” he shrugged. “You’re their mother. You’ll figure it out.”
And just like that, he was gone. That very night, Anton packed his bags and left, taking whatever he deemed valuable. He didn’t look back.
At first, Albina was paralyzed with shock. She had no job, no income, and two children to support. She wandered the city, desperately looking for work. But without experience in her field, doors slammed shut in her face. Eventually, out of sheer necessity, she found a job as a cleaner at a shopping mall.
The work was exhausting, but there was no other choice. She took on extra shifts just to keep food on the table. Often, she had to leave the children with a neighbor, a kind woman named Katya who had a child of her own.
“Mommy, why are you always at work?” little Lena asked one evening. “I miss you.”
Albina forced a smile. “I have to work, sweetheart. So we can have food, clothes, and a warm home.”
“But Daddy makes a lot of money,” Lena said. “Why doesn’t he help us?”
Albina had no answer. Anton had all but vanished, paying only the bare minimum in child support—when he bothered to pay at all.
Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, tragedy struck. Her grandfather passed away. Grief threatened to consume her, but she had no time to break down. She had to be strong for her mother, for her children.
Then came a call from a notary.
Albina was puzzled—her grandfather had lived humbly, owning nothing more than a small house in the countryside. But when she arrived at the office, she learned the truth.
Her grandfather had quietly invested in stocks over the years. And now, he had left everything to her.
The inheritance was more than Albina could have ever imagined—enough to support her family and start over.
She made a decision: no more struggling. No more sacrificing her dreams.
First, she left her grueling cleaning job. Then, she enrolled in courses to revive her career as a translator. But she didn’t stop there. She used part of the money to start her own business—a cozy little café in her neighborhood.
It wasn’t easy, but she poured her heart into it. The café quickly gained popularity, and within a year, it was thriving. She hired staff but still enjoyed working behind the counter, chatting with regulars, feeling the pulse of the place she had built from nothing.
One afternoon, she was covering for a sick waitress when the bell above the door jingled. She turned to greet the new customers—and froze.
Standing there, looking just as smug as ever, was Anton.
Beside him was a young blonde, draped over his arm.
Albina steadied herself and walked over to take their order.
“Good afternoon. What would you like?” she asked, her voice cool but polite.
Anton looked up from the menu and did a double take.
“Albina?” His eyes widened. “You work here? As a waitress?” He smirked. “Didn’t think you could fall any lower.”
The blonde giggled, pleased with the insult.
Albina remained unfazed. “What can I get for you?”
“Two cappuccinos and croissants,” Anton said dismissively. “Well, at least you upgraded from scrubbing floors.”
Albina said nothing, simply taking the order and walking away.
Moments later, the bell rang again. Two well-dressed men entered, scanning the café before spotting her.
“Albina! There you are,” one of them greeted warmly. “Are you free to go over the expansion plans?”
Albina smiled. “Of course. Just finishing up here.”
The second man chuckled. “Still hands-on, I see. No wonder your café is so successful!”
Anton’s smirk faded. He looked at her, truly seeing her for the first time in years. “Wait… this place… it’s yours?”
Albina turned to him with a polite, almost amused expression.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I own it.”
Anton sat back, stunned into silence.
“If you need anything else, the waitress over there will assist you,” Albina continued, nodding toward the counter. “I have a meeting.”
As she walked away, she felt Anton’s eyes burning into her back, but she didn’t turn around.
Later, as she was clearing a table, she noticed a napkin left behind. A phone number was scrawled across it in familiar handwriting.
She smirked and tossed it into the trash without a second glance.
That chapter of her life was over.
And this time, she was the one walking away.