Elena carefully stirred the sauce, lost in thought, when the lady of the house appeared at the kitchen doorway. Svetlana surveyed the room with a scrutinizing gaze before wrinkling her nose in displeasure.
“Why is it so stuffy in here? You should air out the kitchen more often,” Svetlana remarked, adjusting a perfectly styled curl. “And this smell… What is that?”
“Caramel sauce for a new dessert,” Elena responded evenly, continuing to stir the thickening mixture. Two years of working in this household had made her immune to the new mistress’s constant criticism.
“Of course,” Svetlana said doubtfully, stepping closer to peer into the pot. “Your last so-called masterpiece was practically inedible.”
Elena held back a response, though she clearly remembered how Dmitry Viktorovich had praised that dessert and even asked for seconds. But she had no interest in picking a fight. The new wife carried herself with an air of superiority, constantly reminding the staff of their “place.”
A sudden, sharp cry from the hallway interrupted them. “Igor! Come back here immediately!”
Svetlana’s lips pressed into a thin line. “These children have no discipline. Running around as if this is some playground. Completely out of control.”
Elena cast a quick glance at her. It was no secret that Svetlana barely tolerated her husband’s children. She masked it well when Dmitry Viktorovich was home, but the moment he was away, her true attitude surfaced.
The kitchen door swung open, and a breathless twelve-year-old Igor dashed inside, followed closely by nine-year-old Lisa.
“Give it back! It’s my notebook!” Lisa protested, trying to snatch it from her brother, who held it high above her reach.
“Children!” Svetlana’s voice sliced through the air, instantly freezing them in place. “Enough! Go to your rooms and finish your homework.”
“But we’re almost done,” Lisa murmured, lowering her head.
“I said go!” Svetlana snapped, her tone leaving no room for argument.
The children trudged away, their shoulders slumped. Elena sighed inwardly. The house had changed since Svetlana’s arrival. The children used to love spending time in the kitchen, baking cookies, laughing, and sharing stories about school. Now, they avoided their stepmother whenever possible.
“By the way, Elena,” Svetlana turned back to the cook. “We’re having guests tonight. I’ve planned a special dinner.”
“But the menu is already prepared…”
“Change it,” Svetlana interrupted, tossing a list onto the counter. “And a cake will be delivered from the bakery. Make sure it’s stored properly until the evening.”
Elena picked up the paper, her brows furrowing. The list included intricate appetizers and elaborate main courses—far more than what could be comfortably prepared in the remaining time.
“And be careful this time,” Svetlana added, turning toward the door. “The guests are important. As for your dessert—just get rid of it. It’s not worth the risk.”
Once she left, Elena exhaled heavily. These last-minute demands had become more frequent, especially during Dmitry Viktorovich’s business trips. He had left three days ago and wasn’t expected back for another week.
As evening approached, the bakery delivery arrived. Elena inspected the cake—an extravagant confection from a high-end patisserie. But the moment she lifted the lid, a familiar scent hit her.
Her stomach clenched. Among the decorations were crushed nuts.
She immediately recalled Dmitry Viktorovich’s strict rule: no nuts in the house. Both he and the children had severe allergies—exposure to even a small amount could be life-threatening.
Without hesitation, she sought out Svetlana, finding her admiring herself in a full-length mirror in the living room.
“Svetlana, the cake contains nuts,” Elena said carefully. “This is dangerous for the children.”
“And since when are you a doctor?” Svetlana scoffed, not even turning around. “Stick to your job.”
“But their allergy is serious. They were hospitalized last year—”
“Enough!” Svetlana snapped. “I know what I’m doing. Just do as you’re told.”
Elena walked back to the kitchen, her mind racing. Had Svetlana chosen this cake deliberately? Was this negligence… or something more sinister?
The clock was ticking. Guests would arrive soon, and there was still much to prepare. She tried to focus, but the cake weighed heavily on her mind.
Minutes later, Lisa peeked in. “Elena, can I stay here? I finished my homework.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Elena said gently. “Just be careful—it’s busy in here.”
Lisa settled on her usual stool by the window. Once, she would have eagerly helped roll dough or taste-test sauces. Now, she just sat quietly, watching.
Elena knew what she had to do.
As she lifted the cake box to move it, she ‘accidentally’ stumbled. The box slipped from her hands, hitting the floor with a resounding thud. The lid flew off, the cake collapsing into a messy heap of cream and crumbled sponge.
“What have you done?!” Svetlana’s shriek rang through the kitchen.
Elena turned calmly, meeting the other woman’s furious gaze. “Sorry, it was an accident. I’ll clean it up.”
Svetlana fumed, but with guests arriving soon, she had no choice but to let it go. “Clean this mess up. And prepare something else. Quickly!”
Three days later, Dmitry Viktorovich returned unexpectedly. His arrival filled the house with warmth, the children clinging to him, eager to share their stories.
But by nightfall, the atmosphere shifted. The kitchen door slammed open, and Svetlana stormed in, her face red with rage.
“Thief!” she shrieked, marching toward Elena. “I know you took it!”
“Took what?” Elena asked, baffled.
Svetlana grabbed her by the blouse, shaking her. “My diamond bracelet! I saw you near my room!”
Staff members gathered, watching in stunned silence.
“I didn’t take anything,” Elena said firmly, pulling away.
“Liar! You’re fired!”
Just then, Dmitry Viktorovich entered. “What’s going on here?”
Svetlana spun to him, feigning distress. “Dima, she stole from me! My bracelet is gone!”
His sharp gaze shifted to Elena. “Did you?”
Elena inhaled deeply. “No. But there is something else you should know.”
“Don’t listen to her!” Svetlana snapped.
Elena ignored her. “The cake Svetlana ordered contained nuts. I destroyed it because I knew it could harm the children. But she dismissed my warnings.”
A thick silence fell. Dmitry Viktorovich’s expression darkened. He turned to his wife. “Is this true?”
Svetlana paled. “I—I didn’t think it was that serious…”
“You didn’t think?” His voice was ice. “You deliberately put my children at risk. Get out.”
“Dima—”
“Now.”
With no sympathy from anyone, Svetlana stormed away. That night, she packed her things and left. The children didn’t even say goodbye.
Days passed, and peace returned. Igor and Lisa’s laughter filled the house again. They spent more time in the kitchen, helping Elena, their bond growing stronger.
One evening, as Elena served tea, Dmitry Viktorovich said, “Thank you—for everything. I’d like you to be head of the kitchen. With a well-earned raise.”
Tears pricked Elena’s eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
And as she watched the children smile, she knew—she had made the right choice.