Dasha Vasilyeva: Lover of private investigation Dasha Vasilyeva- 39

Chapter 1

A properly raised wife is a man's best friend.

I almost dropped the bag with the inscription “Happy Birthday” from my hands and froze in the wall between two cabinets, the doors of which were decorated with intricate carvings.

A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend,” repeated the male voice.

“Great,” a sonorous contralto entered the conversation, “do you want to start beating a woman yourself or did you find a ready-made option that others have worked on?”

Life is short,” the man drawled philosophically, “I don’t have the slightest desire to waste time and nerves on the educational process. You never know what a dog will turn out after a training course.

The woman burst out laughing.

So, you decided to marry an old, experienced bitch, and not bother with a naive puppy?

The man coughed.

There is no such thing as perfection in nature; something must be sacrificed. If the lady generally suits you, then you can ignore some little things.

Do you consider beauty and youth a trifle? - the partner asked sarcastically.

There was a rustling sound, then the pleasant baritone continued:

Today the charmer is twenty, and ten years later she will turn thirty. Beauty and youth are perishable goods. But hysteria, deceit, and greed will remain with Madame forever. Bitchiness is like cognac; it gets stronger over time. Understand? There are a lot of women around me, there are real beauties, but only one option with the right upbringing has come into my field of vision lately.

And how old is she? - the girl giggled.

Tactless question, little bunny,” the male representative dodged a direct answer.

So, the old woman,” the interlocutor joyfully stated, “is probably a mummy who has rolled up to the fortieth birthday.”

The man seemed angry. He answered rather sharply:

Yes, Daria is not twenty-one years old. But! She never throws scandals, doesn’t throw hysterics with the refrain: “Why are you sitting at work late, I’m bored,” doesn’t demand expensive gifts, doesn’t insist on a wedding, doesn’t get jealous of my patients, and if I say: “Darling, I’m I’m flying to St. Petersburg in three days,” he calmly advises: “It’s damp there, take a warm sweater.” She is not going to give birth to children, she is not going to hang a couple of squealing babies around my neck and then force me to pay kilometer-long bills for a private school, she is not eager to relax in a seven-star hotel and calmly drives a small car. She has two adult children, her son is already married and serves as a lawyer, her daughter is studying at the institute. Both Masha and Arkady now live in Paris, my future wife has a house there.

She’s rich,” the girl realized.

Yes, and this is a nice bonus,” the man continued. - Dasha is independent, I have no need to either support or entertain her. She knows how to behave in society, she has a huge number of friends. And Dasha also has a light, cheerful character, she does not get hung up on problems, I have never seen her cry or scream with anger. I think this is also an indicator of good health; it seems that her thyroid gland is working like a young girl’s, and her hormonal levels are normal. A slender figure and excellent teeth made by an expensive dentist are included.

Continuing to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, at the mention of teeth, I felt like an old nag, about which the owner tells the guest: “It will plow again.”

The girl sighed long.

To summarize, kitty, your passionate speech dedicated to the bride, I can say: you are going to marry a grandmother with an inferiority complex.

Well, Dasha Vasilyeva has no luck with her husbands, and that’s all! It would seem that she had long ago sworn off getting married, but she could not resist - she accepted the offer of plastic surgeon Bogdan Emelyanov. And a week before the engagement I found him in bed with someone else! Of course, Dasha immediately broke up with her unfaithful fiancé, ran out into the street in anger and... got hit by a car. The girl Lena, who was driving, took her to the “Good Clara’s Shelter”. It welcomed all the unfortunate and disadvantaged, so Dasha decided to sit there for a week to hide from Bogdan. Strange things began immediately - one of the inhabitants of the shelter was found excellent housing and work, and soon the woman’s body was found in a dark alley. What is going on in this charitable institution? The lover of private investigation will find out everything!!!

Read online Swan Lake Ichthyander

Excerpt

– A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend.

I almost dropped the bag with the inscription “Happy Birthday” from my hands and froze in the wall between two cabinets, the doors of which were decorated with intricate carvings.

“A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend,” repeated the male voice.

“Great,” a sonorous contralto entered the conversation, “do you want to start beating a woman yourself or did you find a ready-made option that others worked on?”

“Life is short,” the man drawled philosophically, “I don’t have the slightest desire to waste time and nerves on the educational process.” You never know what a dog will turn out after a training course.

The woman burst out laughing.

– So, you decided to marry an old, experienced bitch, and not bother with a naive puppy?

The man coughed.

– There is no such thing as perfection in nature; something must be sacrificed. If the lady generally suits you, then you can ignore some little things.

– Do you consider beauty and youth a trifle? – the partner asked sarcastically.

There was a rustling sound, then the pleasant baritone continued:

“Today the charmer is twenty, and in ten years she will be thirty.” Beauty and youth are perishable goods. But hysteria, deceit, and greed will remain with Madame forever. Bitchiness is like cognac; it gets stronger over time. Understand? There are a lot of women around me, there are real beauties, but only one option with the right upbringing has come into my field of vision lately.

- And how old is she? – the girl giggled.

“Tactless question, little bunny,” the male representative dodged a direct answer.

“So, the old woman,” the interlocutor joyfully stated, “is probably a mummy who rolled up to the fortieth birthday.”

The man seemed angry. He answered rather sharply:

– Yes, Daria is not twenty-one years old. But! She never throws scandals, doesn’t throw hysterics with the refrain: “Why are you sitting at work late, I’m bored,” doesn’t demand expensive gifts, doesn’t insist on a wedding, doesn’t get jealous of my patients, and if I say: “Darling, I’m I’m flying to St. Petersburg in three days,” he calmly advises: “It’s damp there, take a warm sweater.” She is not going to give birth to children, she is not going to hang a couple of squealing babies around my neck and then force me to pay kilometer-long bills for a private school, she is not eager to relax in a seven-star hotel and calmly drives a small car. She has two adult children, her son is already married and serves as a lawyer, her daughter is studying at the institute. Both Masha and Arkady now live in Paris, my future wife has a house there.

“She’s rich,” the girl realized.

“Yes, and this is a nice bonus,” the man continued. – Dasha is independent, I have no need to either support or entertain her. She knows how to behave in society, she has a huge number of friends. And Dasha also has a light, cheerful character, she does not get hung up on problems, I have never seen her cry or scream with anger. I think this is also an indicator of good health; it seems that her thyroid gland is working like a young girl’s, and her hormonal levels are normal. A slender figure and excellent teeth made by an expensive dentist are included.

Continuing to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, at the mention of teeth, I felt like an old nag, about which the owner tells the guest: “It will plow again.”

Well, Dasha Vasilyeva has no luck with her husbands, and that’s all! It would seem that she had long ago sworn off getting married, but she could not resist - she accepted the offer of plastic surgeon Bogdan Emelyanov. And a week before the engagement I found him in bed with someone else! Of course, Dasha immediately broke up with her unfaithful fiancé, ran out into the street in anger and... got hit by a car. The girl Lena, who was driving, took her to the “Good Clara’s Shelter”. It welcomed all the unfortunate and disadvantaged, so Dasha decided to sit there for a week to hide from Bogdan. Strange things began immediately - one of the inhabitants of the shelter was found excellent housing and work, and soon the woman’s body was found in a dark alley. What is going on in this charitable institution? The lover of private investigation will find out everything!!!

Darya Dontsova

Swan Lake Ichthyander

Chapter 1

A properly raised wife is a man's best friend.

I almost dropped the bag with the inscription “Happy Birthday” from my hands and froze in the wall between two cabinets, the doors of which were decorated with intricate carvings.

A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend,” repeated the male voice.

“Great,” a sonorous contralto entered the conversation, “do you want to start beating a woman yourself or did you find a ready-made option that others have worked on?”

Life is short,” the man drawled philosophically, “I don’t have the slightest desire to waste time and nerves on the educational process. You never know what a dog will turn out after a training course.

The woman burst out laughing.

So, you decided to marry an old, experienced bitch, and not bother with a naive puppy?

The man coughed.

There is no such thing as perfection in nature; something must be sacrificed. If the lady generally suits you, then you can ignore some little things.

Do you consider beauty and youth a trifle? - the partner asked sarcastically.

There was a rustling sound, then the pleasant baritone continued:

Today the charmer is twenty, and ten years later she will turn thirty. Beauty and youth are perishable goods. But hysteria, deceit, and greed will remain with Madame forever. Bitchiness is like cognac; it gets stronger over time. Understand? There are a lot of women around me, there are real beauties, but only one option with the right upbringing has come into my field of vision lately.

And how old is she? - the girl giggled.

Tactless question, little bunny,” the male representative dodged a direct answer.

So, the old woman,” the interlocutor joyfully stated, “is probably a mummy who has rolled up to the fortieth birthday.”

The man seemed angry. He answered rather sharply:

Yes, Daria is not twenty-one years old. But! She never throws scandals, doesn’t throw hysterics with the refrain: “Why are you sitting at work late, I’m bored,” doesn’t demand expensive gifts, doesn’t insist on a wedding, doesn’t get jealous of my patients, and if I say: “Darling, I’m I’m flying to St. Petersburg in three days,” he calmly advises: “It’s damp there, take a warm sweater.” She is not going to give birth to children, she is not going to hang a couple of squealing babies around my neck and then force me to pay kilometer-long bills for a private school, she is not eager to relax in a seven-star hotel and calmly drives a small car. She has two adult children, her son is already married and serves as a lawyer, her daughter is studying at the institute. Both Masha and Arkady now live in Paris, my future wife has a house there.

She’s rich,” the girl realized.

Yes, and this is a nice bonus,” the man continued. - Dasha is independent, I have no need to either support or entertain her. She knows how to behave in society, she has a huge number of friends. And Dasha also has a light, cheerful character, she does not get hung up on problems, I have never seen her cry or scream with anger. I think this is also an indicator of good health; it seems that her thyroid gland is working like a young girl’s, and her hormonal levels are normal. A slender figure and excellent teeth made by an expensive dentist are included.

Continuing to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, at the mention of teeth, I felt like an old nag, about which the owner tells the guest: “It will plow again.”

The girl sighed long.

To summarize, kitty, your passionate speech dedicated to the bride, I can say: you are going to marry a grandmother with an inferiority complex. The old woman is afraid to be left alone in her declining years. For her long career, she had been tossed around with her muzzle on the asphalt, and she decided that the owner of the clinic, a plastic surgeon, was the best option for a husband, so she diligently hides the natural desire to scratch his face when the groom goes off to God knows where for a week and the lady sits, clenching her teeth, inserted by an expensive dentist, in their bank accounts. I suppose your bride is worse than Shrek if, despite her capital and wonderful character, she is still not married. Doesn't it bother you that no one has been tempted by this beauty yet? And don’t forget, you’ll have to sleep with the quasi-fashion. Ugh! Fuck an old woman! I'm going to be sick! Well, admit it, the charmer has chest like the ears of a spaniel! What's her last name?

Darya Dontsova

Swan Lake Ichthyander

A properly raised wife is a man's best friend.

I almost dropped the bag with the inscription “Happy Birthday” from my hands and froze in the wall between two cabinets, the doors of which were decorated with intricate carvings.

A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend,” repeated the male voice.

“Great,” a sonorous contralto entered the conversation, “do you want to start beating a woman yourself or did you find a ready-made option that others have worked on?”

Life is short,” the man drawled philosophically, “I don’t have the slightest desire to waste time and nerves on the educational process. You never know what a dog will turn out after a training course.

The woman burst out laughing.

So, you decided to marry an old, experienced bitch, and not bother with a naive puppy?

The man coughed.

There is no such thing as perfection in nature; something must be sacrificed. If the lady generally suits you, then you can ignore some little things.

Do you consider beauty and youth a trifle? - the partner asked sarcastically.

There was a rustling sound, then the pleasant baritone continued:

Today the charmer is twenty, and ten years later she will turn thirty. Beauty and youth are perishable goods. But hysteria, deceit, and greed will remain with Madame forever. Bitchiness is like cognac; it gets stronger over time. Understand? There are a lot of women around me, there are real beauties, but only one option with the right upbringing has come into my field of vision lately.

And how old is she? - the girl giggled.

Tactless question, little bunny,” the male representative dodged a direct answer.

So, the old woman,” the interlocutor joyfully stated, “is probably a mummy who has rolled up to the fortieth birthday.”

The man seemed angry. He answered rather sharply:

Yes, Daria is not twenty-one years old. But! She never throws scandals, doesn’t throw hysterics with the refrain: “Why are you sitting at work late, I’m bored,” doesn’t demand expensive gifts, doesn’t insist on a wedding, doesn’t get jealous of my patients, and if I say: “Darling, I’m I’m flying to St. Petersburg in three days,” he calmly advises: “It’s damp there, take a warm sweater.” She is not going to give birth to children, she is not going to hang a couple of squealing babies around my neck and then force me to pay kilometer-long bills for a private school, she is not eager to relax in a seven-star hotel and calmly drives a small car. She has two adult children, her son is already married and serves as a lawyer, her daughter is studying at the institute. Both Masha and Arkady now live in Paris, my future wife has a house there.

She’s rich,” the girl realized.

Yes, and this is a nice bonus,” the man continued. - Dasha is independent, I have no need to either support or entertain her. She knows how to behave in society, she has a huge number of friends. And Dasha also has a light, cheerful character, she does not get hung up on problems, I have never seen her cry or scream with anger. I think this is also an indicator of good health; it seems that her thyroid gland is working like a young girl’s, and her hormonal levels are normal. A slender figure and excellent teeth made by an expensive dentist are included.

Continuing to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, at the mention of teeth, I felt like an old nag, about which the owner tells the guest: “It will plow again.”

The girl sighed long.

To summarize, kitty, your passionate speech dedicated to the bride, I can say: you are going to marry a grandmother with an inferiority complex. The old woman is afraid to be left alone in her declining years. For her long career, she had been tossed around with her muzzle on the asphalt, and she decided that the owner of the clinic, a plastic surgeon, was the best option for a husband, so she diligently hides the natural desire to scratch his face when the groom goes off to God knows where for a week and the lady sits, clenching her teeth, inserted by an expensive dentist, in their bank accounts. I suppose your bride is worse than Shrek if, despite her capital and wonderful character, she is still not married. Doesn't it bother you that no one has been tempted by this beauty yet? And don’t forget, you’ll have to sleep with the quasi-fashion. Ugh! Fuck an old woman! I'm going to be sick! Well, admit it, the charmer has chest like the ears of a spaniel! What's her last name?

Wineskin laughed.

Are you jealous, kitty? Are you married. And I need to get married. A single plastic surgeon worries guys who pay for operations for their little ones. A thought as simple as a scalpel arises in their heads: “Why doesn’t Bogdan Emelyanov have a family? He is a gay? Or a womanizer? During this year, I lost several clients, they consulted with me, discussed the details of the operations, and then ran over to Vladimirov. I never speak ill of my colleagues, and Sergei is objectively a good doctor, but I’m better. But Vladimirov is married, he shines with his wife at parties and looks respectable, like a priest. I need a constant companion. As for how we will fuck, I have no problems with potency. My wife will be satisfied, and I myself will always find joy on the side. And the shape of her breasts is nonsense, if something happens I’ll give her implants. Tomorrow is my birthday, but I will celebrate it next Saturday at the same time as the engagement, you and your husband are invited, and you will meet my bride there.

Well, what's her name? - the mistress repeated the question capriciously. - I really want to hear not only the name, but also the surname of the rich, well-mannered monster.

I shook myself, like a dog that had crawled out of a river onto the bank, entered the spacious bedroom and, looking at the luxurious bed with a headboard covered in natural leather, said loudly:

The “quasi-fashion” has the name Daria and the surname Vasilyeva in her passport. Bogdan was slightly mistaken. I don’t have the virtues of a true lady, so I didn’t leave, realizing that the groom had a stranger in his bedroom.

The blond, curly-haired girl pulled the blanket over her head with a squeal, and Emelyanov, whom I called Burdyuk from the first day of our acquaintance, was frankly confused. Don’t be surprised by his reaction; any man will feel discomfort if his future wife finds him in bed with his mistress.

Dashenka,” he babbled, “what are you doing here?” It's past midnight!

I nodded.

Good question. You were slightly mistaken, your birthday is September twenty-ninth.

Well, yes, tomorrow,” Burdyuk agreed cautiously.

Apparently he expected me to throw the bottle of champagne at him that was sticking out of the silver bucket on the nightstand, and he relaxed when he saw a calm smile on my face.

No, dear,” I objected gently, “the twenty-ninth came at the moment when the large and small hands of the clock merged together at the number twelve. In our family, after midnight, it’s customary to burst into the newborn’s bedroom and, out of tune, loudly sing “Happy Idleness” in chorus. Sorry, I don't speak English well, to be honest, I'm not good at Shakespeare's language at all. But let's leave my linguistic abilities out of the conversation. I decided to surprise you: I arrived without any warning, I was going to give you a gift and be the first to congratulate you. I wanted to ring the doorbell, but it turned out to be unlocked. I don’t know what came over me! Grandmother Afanasia Konstantinovna instilled in me: “Never break into someone else’s apartment without asking.”

I ignored her advice. Why, you ask? Yes, I just thought that your apartment was not alien to me, although, of course, this cannot serve as an excuse. In short, happy birthday, dear, the holiday has already arrived. Where can I put a gift bag? Straight to the bed?

A squeal was heard again from under the blanket. The downy feather twitched upward. The girl carefully covered her head; she clearly didn’t want the woman who came in at the wrong time to see her face, but the fool didn’t care about her legs. Before my eyes appeared an elegant foot with a perfect pedicure, the nails were decorated with nail design. Each plate depicted a flower, with glued rhinestones sparkling in the middle. I was wondering: how many tights does a girl rip a day? Summer is over, sandals have been put away on the farthest shelf, the time has come for ankle boots, you can’t pull them on your bare feet, and rhinestones will immediately tear the nylon-nylon-polyamide-elastic.

Sunny, this is not what you thought,” Burdyuk demonstrated standard male behavior.

“There’s no need to strain yourself,” I asked, “I don’t intend to discuss the situation.”

Before he could blink, I threw the gift bag onto the chair and ran as fast as I could towards the elevator. Believe me, I didn’t even imagine that I was capable of the agility of a young hound. In a matter of seconds, I got out into the street and rushed along the sidewalk, stepping into all the puddles.

The weather rarely spoils Muscovites with warm sunshine, and the end of September in the capital is traditionally a rainy time. Very soon I was wet to the skin and suddenly realized: my car was left at Burdyuk’s entrance. I was carried into the backyard of some store, where I was shaking from the cold near the trash cans.

– A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend.

I almost dropped the bag with the inscription “Happy Birthday” from my hands and froze in the wall between two cabinets, the doors of which were decorated with intricate carvings.

“A properly raised wife is a man’s best friend,” repeated the male voice.

“Great,” a sonorous contralto entered the conversation, “do you want to start beating a woman yourself or did you find a ready-made option that others worked on?”

“Life is short,” the man drawled philosophically, “I don’t have the slightest desire to waste time and nerves on the educational process.” You never know what a dog will turn out after a training course.

The woman burst out laughing.

– So, you decided to marry an old, experienced bitch, and not bother with a naive puppy?

The man coughed.

– There is no such thing as perfection in nature; something must be sacrificed. If the lady generally suits you, then you can ignore some little things.

– Do you consider beauty and youth a trifle? – the partner asked sarcastically.

There was a rustling sound, then the pleasant baritone continued:

“Today the charmer is twenty, and in ten years she will be thirty.” Beauty and youth are perishable goods. But hysteria, deceit, and greed will remain with Madame forever. Bitchiness is like cognac; it gets stronger over time. Understand? There are a lot of women around me, there are real beauties, but only one option with the right upbringing has come into my field of vision lately.

- And how old is she? – the girl giggled.

“Tactless question, little bunny,” the male representative dodged a direct answer.

“So, the old woman,” the interlocutor joyfully stated, “is probably a mummy who rolled up to the fortieth birthday.”

The man seemed angry. He answered rather sharply:

– Yes, Daria is not twenty-one years old. But! She never throws scandals, doesn’t throw hysterics with the refrain: “Why are you sitting at work late, I’m bored,” doesn’t demand expensive gifts, doesn’t insist on a wedding, doesn’t get jealous of my patients, and if I say: “Darling, I’m I’m flying to St. Petersburg in three days,” he calmly advises: “It’s damp there, take a warm sweater.” She is not going to give birth to children, she is not going to hang a couple of squealing babies around my neck and then force me to pay kilometer-long bills for a private school, she is not eager to relax in a seven-star hotel and calmly drives a small car. She has two adult children, her son is already married and serves as a lawyer, her daughter is studying at the institute. Both Masha and Arkady now live in Paris, my future wife has a house there.

“She’s rich,” the girl realized.

“Yes, and this is a nice bonus,” the man continued. – Dasha is independent, I have no need to either support or entertain her. She knows how to behave in society, she has a huge number of friends. And Dasha also has a light, cheerful character, she does not get hung up on problems, I have never seen her cry or scream with anger.

I think this is also an indicator of good health; it seems that her thyroid gland is working like a young girl’s, and her hormonal levels are normal. A slender figure and excellent teeth made by an expensive dentist are included.

Continuing to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, at the mention of teeth, I felt like an old nag, about which the owner tells the guest: “It will plow again.”

The girl sighed long.

– To sum up, little cat, your passionate speech dedicated to the bride, I can say: you are going to marry a grandmother with an inferiority complex. The old woman is afraid to be left alone in her declining years. For her long career, she had been tossed around with her muzzle on the asphalt, and she decided that the owner of the clinic, a plastic surgeon, was the best option for a husband, so she diligently hides the natural desire to scratch his face when the groom goes off to God knows where for a week and the lady sits, clenching her teeth, inserted by an expensive dentist, in their bank accounts. I suppose your bride is worse than Shrek if, despite her capital and wonderful character, she is still not married. Doesn't it bother you that no one has been tempted by this beauty yet? And don’t forget, you’ll have to sleep with the quasi-fashion. Ugh! Fuck an old woman! I'm going to be sick! Well, admit it, the charmer has chest like the ears of a spaniel! What's her last name?

Wineskin laughed.

- Are you jealous, kitty? Are you married. And I need to get married. A single plastic surgeon worries guys who pay for operations for their little ones. A thought as simple as a scalpel arises in their heads: “Why doesn’t Bogdan Emelyanov have a family? He is a gay? Or a womanizer? During this year, I lost several clients, they consulted with me, discussed the details of the operations, and then ran over to Vladimirov. I never speak ill of my colleagues, and Sergei is objectively a good doctor, but I’m better. But Vladimirov is married, he shines with his wife at parties and looks respectable, like a priest. I need a constant companion. As for how we will fuck, I have no problems with potency. My wife will be satisfied, and I myself will always find joy on the side. And the shape of her breasts is nonsense, if something happens I’ll give her implants. Tomorrow is my birthday, but I will celebrate it next Saturday at the same time as the engagement, you and your husband are invited, and you will meet my bride there.

- Well, what's her name? – the mistress repeated the question capriciously. “I really want to hear not only the name, but also the surname of the rich, well-mannered monster.”

I shook myself, like a dog that had crawled out of a river onto the bank, entered the spacious bedroom and, looking at the luxurious bed with a headboard covered in natural leather, said loudly:

– The “quasi-fashion” has the name Daria and the surname Vasilyeva in her passport. Bogdan was slightly mistaken. I don’t have the virtues of a true lady, so I didn’t leave, realizing that the groom had a stranger in his bedroom.

The blond, curly-haired girl pulled the blanket over her head with a squeal, and Emelyanov, whom I called Burdyuk from the first day of our acquaintance, was frankly confused. Don’t be surprised by his reaction; any man will feel discomfort if his future wife finds him in bed with his mistress.

“Dasha,” he babbled, “what are you doing here?” It's past midnight!

I nodded.

- Good question. You were slightly mistaken, your birthday is September twenty-ninth.

“Well, yes, tomorrow,” Burdyuk agreed cautiously.

Apparently he expected me to throw the bottle of champagne at him that was sticking out of the silver bucket on the nightstand, and he relaxed when he saw a calm smile on my face.

“No, dear,” I objected tenderly, “the twenty-ninth came at the moment when the large and small hands of the clock merged together at the number twelve.” In our family, after midnight, it’s customary to burst into the newborn’s bedroom and, out of tune, loudly sing “Happy Idleness” in chorus. Sorry, I don't speak English well, to be honest, I'm not good at Shakespeare's language at all. But let's leave my linguistic abilities out of the conversation. I decided to surprise you: I arrived without any warning, I was going to give you a gift and be the first to congratulate you. I wanted to ring the doorbell, but it turned out to be unlocked. I don’t know what came over me! Grandmother Afanasia Konstantinovna instilled in me: “Never break into someone else’s apartment without asking.”

I ignored her advice. Why, you ask? Yes, I just thought that your apartment was not alien to me, although, of course, this cannot serve as an excuse. In short, happy birthday, dear, the holiday has already arrived. Where can I put a gift bag? Straight to the bed?

A squeal was heard again from under the blanket. The downy feather twitched upward. The girl carefully covered her head; she clearly didn’t want the woman who came in at the wrong time to see her face, but the fool didn’t care about her legs. Before my eyes appeared an elegant foot with a perfect pedicure, the nails were decorated with nail design. Each plate depicted a flower, with glued rhinestones sparkling in the middle. I was wondering: how many tights does a girl rip a day? Summer is over, sandals have been put away on the farthest shelf, the time has come for ankle boots, you can’t pull them on your bare feet, and rhinestones will immediately tear the nylon-nylon-polyamide-elastic.

“Sunny, this is not what you thought,” Burdyuk demonstrated standard male behavior.

“There’s no need to strain yourself,” I asked, “I don’t intend to discuss the situation.”

Before he could blink, I threw the gift bag onto the chair and ran as fast as I could towards the elevator. Believe me, I didn’t even imagine that I was capable of the agility of a young hound. In a matter of seconds, I got out into the street and rushed along the sidewalk, stepping into all the puddles.

The weather rarely spoils Muscovites with warm sunshine, and the end of September in the capital is traditionally a rainy time. Very soon I was wet to the skin and suddenly realized: my car was left at Burdyuk’s entrance. I was carried into the backyard of some store, where I was shaking from the cold near the trash cans.

A squeak reached my ears and I shuddered. There are a lot of rats in the capital; the most arrogant ones do not hesitate to walk around in front of people in broad daylight, and at night they feel like they are the masters of the metropolis. I am not afraid of rodents, knowing that they attack humans only as a last resort. Thank God, there is enough food for rats in Moscow. Now they are dining on garbage from the supermarket; they are completely uninterested in my forty-five kilograms of bones.

A plaintive quiet sound was added to the squeak. I stamped my foot and yelled:

- Come on, get out!

A rat will not approach a person, but it can attack a kitten. Two gray shadows darted to the side, I peered into the darkness, saw something white in the dim light of the lamp turned on above the service entrance to the store and realized that I was not mistaken. The riff-raff tried to devour the baby, who, at an unkind hour, had fought off his mother cat.

“Hush, hush,” I said affectionately, “the trouble is over, hurry up to your family.”

But instead of rushing through the broken window into the basement, the lump rolled up to the savior, stood on its tiny hind legs, grabbed my wet jeans with its front legs and whined desperately.

I bent down and picked up the poor guy. It turned out to be not a kitten, but a puppy of an unknown breed. The baby's muzzle is slightly elongated, sharp, triangular ears stick up, he is all covered with delicate fur, which after thorough washing will definitely turn from gray to white.

I stroked the foundling.

- How many months are you? Come on, open your mouth! The baby teeth haven't fallen out yet! So you're really tiny.

The dog began to sob and hid in my bosom.

I am an experienced dog lover, in our house lives a large friendly pack: Rottweiler Snap, pit bull Bundy, poodle Cherry, pug Huchik, Yorkshire terrier Julie, add cats here and you will understand that I know how to treat animals. I also know a superstition that most owners of four-legged animals believe in: a dog or pussy chooses its owner. It only seems that the decision is made by a person. In fact, you take home that pet who looked into your eyes and seemed to say:

"It's me! Hello mother!"

If a four-legged animal comes up to you on the street, give it shelter, it will definitely bring happiness to your home.

I pressed the quiet lump to my chest. My dogs are now in Paris, I am temporarily left alone in Lozhkin. But even if the whole pack was in full force now, I could not leave the puppy in a dirty, rat-infested yard. It's hard to decide to get your first dog, and when there are already five of them, a sixth one won't hurt.

Behind me I heard the quiet snorting of a car engine. I was afraid that Wineskin had magically found out where I had run, and, without letting go of the foundling, I rushed forward, not making out the road.

I got married many times. And every time it fails 1
Daria Dontsova’s book “Cool Heirs,” which tells the story of Dasha Vasilyeva’s family, begins with these two phrases. Publishing house "Eksmo".

Why do I constantly step on the same rake? Ask something easier. Every woman has her own type of man that she falls for, regardless of the voice of reason. One needs tall brunettes, the second stocky blondes, the third adores grandfathers with a fat wallet, the fourth is ready to do anything to strike up love with a young man who is younger than her grandson. I always didn’t care about appearance, bank account or age; I wanted to find a friend, reliable and loyal. I also categorically cannot stand lies, although I would not consider the words “Darling, you are the most beautiful” to be a lie. I will not tolerate betrayal, I had one womanizer husband, and that’s enough. I don’t like alcoholics either; I had a drunkard husband, and that was enough too. I will never enter into a relationship with an idiot, I already had a husband who is an idiot... In a word, there are too many negative experiences, and there are countless demands on my future life partner, it turns out that I am too capricious, so it is my own fault that I am lonely. You probably need to close your eyes to something. But for me, on the contrary, during our life together they open too wide. Having surveyed the picture in all its glory, I quickly run away. By about thirty-five years old, I came to a conclusion: the beast named Dasha Vasilyeva does not live in captivity - and I calmed down. Sometimes I have affairs, but I no longer go to the registry office.

Some time ago, fate accidentally brought me into contact with a plastic surgeon nicknamed Wineskin. However, his passport says Bogdan Emelyanov. For what reason I addressed him differently now does not matter in the slightest 2
The story of the relationship between Dasha and Burdyuk is told in the book by Daria Dontsova “White Horse on the Prince”, Eksmo Publishing House.

On those same days, I also met Nazar and graduate student Yarik. I had three gentlemen at once. Agree, any woman is pleased to be the center of attention and be overwhelmed with flowers. Some of us try to keep all the suitors around us, but I decided to choose the most worthy one.

Alas, I don’t have the slightest extrasensory abilities. If you show me two boxes and ask me to point out the one containing a million, I will certainly choose the empty one. If there are five boxes, and the money is in four, I will absolutely grab the one with nothing in it.

I maintained friendly relations with Yarik and Nazar, but I was quite seriously planning to marry Burdyuk. So what came of it? It’s good that I didn’t have time to announce my decision to my family. I was thinking of flying to Paris at the end of October, buying a wedding dress there, and only then making Arkasha, Masha and Bunny happy. But Wineskin turned out to be the same rake. It’s a shame that this gardening tool didn’t have rubber handles. Dashutka, a lump from blows should have appeared on your forehead long ago. I don’t want to start any explanations with the one whom I considered my fiancé an hour ago, and I don’t want to meet him either, so there’s only one thing left to do – to scurry off as fast as possible. To be honest, more than anything in the world I am afraid of a showdown and conversations on the topic “how should we live further.”

I ran through the yard, turned right, left, and suddenly realized: I had to stop. Nobody is chasing me. But, contrary to logic, I flew onto the avenue, saw a bright light, heard a nasty grinding sound, felt a push and fell into a puddle.

Chapter 2

“Please tell me that you are alive,” a thin voice wailed. - I beg you, say at least a word.

I sat down, brushed a strand of hair from my forehead and said:

- Everything is fine.

A thin girl who looks a little older than Masha 3
Masha is the daughter of Dasha Vasilyeva.

She leaned over me.

- Sorry, sorry, sorry. You suddenly flew around the corner, I braked and braked, but it was very wet. You are alive? Alive?

I shook my head.

- It seems so. You were probably driving slowly.

“There’s a sign,” the girl nodded, “forty kilometers per hour.”

I rested my palm on the asphalt and tried to stand up.

- I was lucky. Rarely do any drivers slow down even during the day, and you drive according to the rules at night.

The girl was embarrassed.

- I drank champagne. One glass, you won’t get drunk from that much, but if I meet with the traffic police, the cops will smell it, you know what will follow.

“Yeah,” I muttered, “only a sneaking car has a better chance of being stopped than a flying foreign car.” DPS officers will immediately be interested in why the driver decided to strictly follow the directions of road signs at one in the morning. No way, the man is drunk.

While talking, I assumed an almost vertical position, and suddenly it was as if a hot nail had been stuck into my left leg. I plopped back into the puddle. Cold, dirty splashes fanned out to the sides.

- What's happened? – the girl was scared.

“It hurts a lot,” I whispered, “I can’t walk.”

- Lord, I hope you didn’t break anything! – the car enthusiast was scared.

“I’d like to think that the bones are intact,” I drawled, “when you sit, it seems normal.”

“Sitting in a puddle is not normal in itself,” the blonde sighed.

“I agree,” I nodded, “it’s wet and cold.” Where is my mobile?

- Why do you need him? – she became wary.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” I answered honestly, “look at the name of the street, there’s probably a sign on the house.”

The blonde wrung her hands.

- No need! I beg you, let's do without doctors. They will have to tell the truth that I hit you. They will force me to take a test and detect alcohol. How much money do you want? Name the amount, I’ll pay any amount.

I felt funny.

- Dangerous statement. What if I demand an amount of currency equal to the UK budget? And you don't have to worry. There is no zebra crossing nearby, there is no traffic light, it’s my own fault. By the way, my name is Dasha Vasilyeva.

“Lenochka Privalova,” the girl introduced herself, “I’ll really pay, considering the damaged clothes, moral and physical trauma.”

I decisively rejected her offer:

- Thanks, no. I want to get out of the wet puddle, take an aspirin and go to bed. But my leg hurts.

“A puddle is never dry,” Lenochka giggled.

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Let’s do this,” Privalova suggested, “I’ll take you home and...

My mobile phone started working in my pocket, I took it out, looked at the screen and exclaimed:

- Hello, Manyunya!

- Musick, how are you? – my daughter asked.

“Great,” I said and sneezed.

-Have you caught a cold? – Mashka became worried.

I should have answered: not yet, but tomorrow I’ll definitely get a runny nose, because I’m sitting on the asphalt, a strong wind is blowing, rain is falling on my head, and I’ve been getting wet in a puddle for a quarter of an hour. But there’s no need to bother Maruska, she’s in Paris and won’t be able to rush to my aid in a matter of minutes. Even if she rushes to Orly airport right now, hires a charter and rushes to Moscow, she won’t be here before the morning.

“No, honey,” I continued cheerfully, “everything is great.”

“Musya,” Manya interrupted me, “Burdyuk called me.”

What a bastard! Who asked him to involve Manyun in our problems!

- And what did he want? – I asked carefully.

“He’s very worried,” Manyunya said frequently. “He said politely: “Excuse me, Maria, do you know where your mother is?” We had a slight quarrel, she slammed the door and ran away. I went down to the yard, and her car was in the parking lot. I call Lozhkino - no one answers, she doesn’t answer her cell phone. It's night in Moscow, so I decided to disturb you. Do me a favor, contact Dasha, she has caller ID on, I think she doesn’t want to talk to me. Tell him there was a misunderstanding. I’m ready to come for her anywhere.”

I was filled with indignation. Misunderstanding? The right word to define treason! And who allowed Burdyuk to involve Manyunya in the situation?!

-What happened? – Maruska strained herself.

I tried once again to get out of the puddle, failed and answered honestly:

“I arrived at midnight to congratulate Burdyuk on his birthday and found a woman in his bed. An anecdote, and nothing more. I ran away from his house, forgot about my car, and didn’t hear my cell phone calls. But I found an adorable puppy. Belenky. What should I call it?

- Oh, he...! - the daughter barked.

“Manya,” I said reproachfully, “what an expression!”

“You can’t say it any other way,” Masha hissed, and the connection was interrupted.

“I hope you tore out the hair on the vile woman’s bald head?” – Lena exclaimed.

“Nope, she just left,” I sighed, “by the way, there’s no hair on my bald head.” Help me get up.

Five minutes later I stood on one leg, but the other did not want to serve the mistress. Lena opened the car door.

- Now I’ll sit you down and...

The call again didn’t let her finish, I put the phone to my ear.

- Yes, Marusenka.

“I talked to Wineskin,” the girl said frequently, “I told him not to get closer to you than a shot from a rocket launcher.” Guess what this fruit answered? “Maria, Dasha and I will make peace, I’m already in a hurry to Lozhkino.” Musya, if you don’t want to meet him, close the windows, doors and don’t answer calls.

“Yeah,” I was confused, “good advice.”

“I’ll fly tomorrow,” Manya promised.

I was scared:

- No need! Don't miss classes. Nothing terrible happened, we are not husband and wife, just as we met, we will separate.

“Musik, I really feel sorry for you,” Manya sobbed, “but, to be honest, I didn’t like Wineskin at all.” We saw him once, but that was enough to understand: he is a toad! No, this is wrong! Toads are cute. It's semolina salad with tuna. Brr!

I hastened to ask:

– You shouldn’t tell Bunny and Kesha the details.

“I didn’t mean to,” Marusya assured. “Musik, don’t be upset.” A wineskin is not worth your fingernail. I love you. What puppy?

I described the foundling with inspiration.

“So,” Mashka advised, “an examination by a veterinarian is necessary.” A deworming tablet, a good bath, disinfection, nail trimming, ear cleaning, flea drops, vaccinations.

“Don’t worry,” I sighed, “he’s not my first, I need to name the dog.”

- How do you like Romeo? - Manya exclaimed.

“I don’t like it,” I answered.

“Okay, I’ll think about it, good night,” said Maruska.

I shoved my mobile phone deeper into my pocket and looked at Lena.

– Take me to a hotel, somewhere in the center. Although no, they won’t let you bring a dog there.

- Why not go home? – Privalova blinked.

“Burdyuk is going there, he’s eager to make peace with me,” I sighed. – I don’t have the strength to sort things out. To be honest, I’m like that ostrich: I stick my head in the sand and wait out the storm. Unfortunately, the groom is assertive, he won’t leave me alone right away. Next Saturday at seven in the evening he is holding a reception for two hundred people. Uses any excuse to make friends with different people who, in principle, can become his clients; he was going to introduce me to the guests as a bride, he had already told everyone: “The birthday will also turn into an engagement.”