— To receive the gifts, Alex Bogdanovich Rimsha and Renata Ostapovna Karpenko must officially marry and become parents to a child together. — The lawyer cleared his throat and continued his monotonous reading: — The gender of the child is irrelevant, but the process… — the lawyer coughed again, — … must be natural. This child will inherit fifty-one percent of the shares in the Center upon reaching the age of thirty. Until the child is born, the company’s affairs will be managed by, — the lawyer paused and glanced at those present, — yours truly, while medical matters will be overseen by the current deputy general director, Mr. Manko. The marriage cannot be dissolved within three years. If no child is born during this period… — the lawyer coughed once more, — then both parties may file for divorce, and the Center will pass into the ownership of Maria Nestorovna Karpenko. Should the child, for any reason, decline to inherit the shares of the Center, they will also be transferred to Mr. Karpenko’s mother…
Stunned, Renata couldn’t move. Her visibly agitated mother took her hand, whispering something, but Renata couldn’t make out the words. However, she could clearly see Alex leap from his chair in a fury and let out a loud curse.
— What on earth is going on here? Who does this Karpenko think we are?! — Alex stopped in front of the desk where the lawyer stood reading the conditions and demanded: — Are you sure that’s what it says?
— Absolutely, — the lawyer nodded and adjusted his glasses.
— But this… This is supposed to be a gift, not an inheritance! Aren’t gifts supposed to come without strings attached?
— Not always, but in this case, there are conditions, — the lawyer replied calmly, with a sense of dignity. — Have you ever won the lottery?
— Never even tried, — Alex shook his head. It was clear he was barely holding himself together. — And as life seems to prove, — he nodded toward the paper in the lawyer’s hands, — I was right to steer clear. For me, things like this come at too high a cost.
— If you had, you’d know that everything comes with conditions. Mr. Karpenko chose these ones, — the lawyer pointed to the sheet of paper he held in his other hand. — And if you want to take ownership of the Plastic Surgery Center…
— I want it badly. But not under these terms! — Alex took another step forward, now separated from the lawyer only by the desk. The lawyer blinked, then frowned, but didn’t budge. — Who came up with these rules? Come on, don’t be shy, admit it.
— What an… odd question, Mr. Rimsha. Of course, the author is none other than Ostap Mykytovych Karpenko himself. Moreover, the document was signed in the presence of witnesses.
— Who the hell are these witnesses? I want to talk to them! No, I demand it! — Alex wouldn’t let up, and Renata understood his frustration completely. She herself hadn’t recovered from what she’d heard. How could her father do this to her? It was… Renata didn’t even know how to describe it. — Give me their names!
— This isn’t a will, so there’s no need to disclose the witnesses’ identities. Mr. Karpenko wished to keep their names confidential.
The lawyer turned to the safe in the wall, placed the important document inside, and locked it with a code. Renata watched silently, unable to utter a single word.
She and Alex? Something was terribly wrong. Alex and her, getting married?
Meanwhile, Alex cursed again.
— I can’t believe he did this. Even a schemer like Ostap wouldn’t dare pull something like this! First, he vanishes without a word, and the entire Center is in chaos for a whole month. I won’t even mention his wife! — Renata glanced at Alex’s mother, Victoria Bogdanovna, who sat across on a leather sofa, staring out the window in silence. Her face was almost flawless, showing an uncanny lack of emotion. It seemed as though the woman couldn’t care less about what was happening. — And then this shows up, — Alex pointed toward the safe. — Weren’t you the one feeding us stories about some far-off business trip? Where is he, this Karpenko? Either you tell me right now, or I’m filing a complaint with the authorities.
For the first time, the lawyer grimaced. Clearly, he was facing a dilemma.
— Ostap Mykytovych asked that his whereabouts not be disclosed. Only in extreme circumstances.
— Well, consider this an extreme circumstance, — Alex slashed his hand through the air. The lawyer prudently took a step back. — Where is that conniving bastard?!
— There’s no need to get so worked up. He’s in Tibet.
Renata’s mouth fell half-open, though no sound came out, while Alex froze. But only for a moment.
— Where?!
— You heard me correctly. He’s there. If you wish to speak with him, you’ll have to travel to a men’s monastery. No, no, he hasn’t… joined the order. Ostap Mykytovych has settled nearby. Finding Mr. Karpenko will take a significant amount of time and money. However, such a… distant journey is unlikely to change anything. And one more thing… If you intend to refuse the gift, you can do so right now. But your refusal won’t alter the conditions for receiving it.
— And what happens to the gift then? — Alex asked grimly.
— The Center will pass into the ownership of Mr. Karpenko’s mother, — the lawyer replied, no longer looking at the young man as he packed some folders into his briefcase.
— But she’s abroad!
— Mr. Rimsha, if you refuse the gift, its fate will no longer be your concern…
* * *
— Mom, what am I supposed to do?
Renata could hear the confusion in her own voice, trembling as she spoke. It was a good thing she’d stayed silent while the lawyer read that bizarre document and then argued at length with Alex. Well, Alex argued with him. At least one of them had spoken up…
As soon as the lawyer disappeared from view—especially from a visibly enraged Alex—behind a barely noticeable door in the corner of his office, locking it for good measure, Renata felt an overwhelming urge to move, to get out of there as quickly as possible. Her mother barely managed to keep up with her. Alex shouted something after her, but Renata didn’t even think about turning around. She desperately wanted to go home, right that instant.
She and her mom had only just returned from abroad, where Renata had completed a preparatory course and enrolled in college. A year ago, right after finishing high school, they had moved to England. Renata’s mother, Lyubava Martynets—known to everyone as Lyuba—had, for certain long-standing reasons, no longer wished to live in their hometown. She had stayed there only for her own mother, Ruth Nechay, an artist who had lived alone on a remote farmstead for many years. When a prolonged illness took the still-young woman to the other side, Lyuba, herself an artist and designer by training, convinced her daughter to accept an offer from Renata’s paternal grandmother to settle in her cozy little house in South West England.
To an outsider, such an offer might seem strange, as Renata’s parents had never been married. Yet, Grandma Maria considered Lyuba her true daughter-in-law. Maria Nestorovna Karpenko had a medical background and worked at a local university until she met her future second husband, an Englishman, at an international conference and agreed to move to his country.
And so, for nearly a year, Renata and Lyuba had been living with the mother of the infamous Ostap Mykytovych Karpenko, who had unexpectedly vanished off the radar a month ago. Upon hearing the news, Lyuba became so distraught that she immediately packed to return home. Surprisingly, Grandma Maria took the news philosophically. She raised her still-dark eyebrows and said, “He’ll turn up eventually.”
Renata didn’t want to let her mother go alone. She was worried about her father too. However, she had to tie up some loose ends at college before they could set off. It was then that the lawyer called and invited them to hear a letter from Renata’s father. How could they refuse?
But neither of them had expected to hear what they did.
Renata and Lyuba made it home by taxi, collapsing into old armchairs they hadn’t sat in for over a year. The dust on the armrests didn’t bother either of them. Compared to the news they’d just received, it was a triviality, not worth a second thought. Cleaning, at that moment, was the least of their worries.
At not quite twenty, Renata hadn’t planned on getting married anytime soon. She had only just begun studying subjects she intended to apply to her passion—creating skincare products based on her grandmother Ruth’s recipes.
Marriage? And to Alex, of all people? And a child… She still had so much to learn!
Renata’s still-beautiful thirty-nine-year-old mother calmed down a little upon learning that Ostap Karpenko was alive. But Tibet… That was practically on the other side of the world! What on earth had taken him there? Yes, they’d had a falling out. Again. And Lyuba had fled to England. But England wasn’t Tibet…
Yet, as always, her daughter was Lyuba’s top priority. And now, she looked at Renata thoughtfully.
— Sweetheart, you have every right to say no. No one can force you into this. Not even your father.
— I know, Mom. I know, — Renata sighed shakily.
Once again, Alex’s handsome face flashed before her eyes—a face that had always looked at her with disdain.
Renata, on the other hand, had loved him for so long that she couldn’t even remember when she’d first realized it. She’d first seen this boy, more than six years her senior, on the day she turned ten.
Though her mother had prepared all sorts of treats, Renata’s father decided to celebrate the occasion at a modest little restaurant on the same quiet street where their unconventional family lived.
Why unconventional?
Renata’s parents had been classmates. That’s when they started dating. By nineteen, they were already parents.
Despite this, the young lovers weren’t in a rush to tie the knot. They felt that marriage—and even more so, routine—would dampen their passionate love.
Lyuba painted her pictures and studied design. Though after Renata’s birth, she had to switch to part-time studies. Meanwhile, Ostap Karpenko devoured medical knowledge and didn’t visit his beloved Lyuba and daughter every day. Often, he slept at the hospital or at his mother’s place, as it was much closer for the exhausted young man.
Yet Lyuba never complained about his absence. Once, her mother told her that you can’t hold a man by force. He’ll only return to where he feels good. So Lyuba always waited for her Ostap, no matter what.
In those early days, which Renata couldn’t remember, Ruth Nechay already lived on the farmstead—alone, as Lyuba’s father had left Ruth pregnant long ago, and she never sought male company again. However, seeing how her daughter and Ostap managed in her city apartment, she began visiting more often on weekdays. Someone had to look after her granddaughter. Lyuba bought plenty of parenting books, but theory could never compare to practice. And an extra pair of hands was never a bad thing. Over time, though, Ruth came less frequently. She began to fall ill but refused to move to the city.
And so they lived—mostly in harmony, sometimes with joy—until one day, Renata came home from school to find her mother in tears. It was the first time this had happened, and Renata didn’t know how to react or how to comfort her. She stood in the kitchen doorway, watching helplessly as her mother’s slender shoulders shook. All she could manage was a tentative:
— Mom?
Lyuba turned and reached out to her daughter. Renata rushed to her mother, who hugged her tightly, then said through her tears:
— My little one, Daddy won’t be coming home as often now. If at all.
— Why? — Renata immediately grew anxious. — Did something happen?
— Happen? Yes, something did. Because…, — her mother sobbed. — Because your dad has another family now.
Renata couldn’t wrap her head around how this had happened. Everything had been fine! Her dad and mom almost never argued. On the contrary—they were always hugging and kissing. Her father always bought her sweets and toys, and in his free time, he’d take her places—to puppet shows, cartoons, the park… He called her his little sweetheart, while his big heart was always reserved for his Lyuba.
Had her dad lied? Was that even possible?
Renata looked up, gazing into her mother’s greenish eyes, so much like her own, and asked:
— Did Dad… stop loving us?
Another tear rolled down her mother’s cheek.
— He said he didn’t. That he’ll love us even more.
— Then why… won’t he come home?
Her father wasn’t home every day as it was. What would happen now?
— Because of the Center. Your father wanted to own a Plastic Surgery Center, and to do that, he had to marry… another woman. Her father is a wealthy man. And he gave your dad what, as it turns out, Alex wanted so badly. Much more than I ever realized…