“Eliana Martens? My name is Daniel Kowalski, I’m a lawyer. I’ve been looking for you for over a year.”
Eliana frowned and mechanically wiped her hands on her apron. Lucas and his mother watched them from the kitchen doorway, both with the same distant, cold expression on their faces, as if they were entering a territory that wasn’t theirs.
“Me?” Why?
“It’s her father’s inheritance, Mr. Franz Martens. He died a year and a half ago, and you are the sole heir.”
Lucas stepped forward.
“Wait a minute, which father?” Her mother died when she was ten, and there was no trace of her father.
Eliana paled. She hadn’t heard her father’s name since she was a child. Her mother only said he was a wealthy man from Germany with grand plans, but he disappeared, leaving only his name behind.
“Mrs. Martens, your father left you everything: a house in Munich, shares, bank accounts… The total value is over seven million euros. It was difficult for us to find you because you changed your name and left the country after you got married.”
Lucas’s jaw dropped. Mariana Heinrichovna clung to the back of the chair with trembling hands. And Eliana remained silent. Her heart pounded wildly. Could it be true? If so, it meant she was no longer dependent on anyone.
“I… need time to think,” she whispered.
“Of course,” Daniel nodded. “Here’s my business card. Contact me when you’re ready. To complete the paperwork, you’ll need to go to Munich.”
He gave her his business card and left. A heavy silence descended on the house. Lucas was the first to break the silence:
“You knew, didn’t you?!” he shouted. “You kept that a secret on purpose, didn’t you?” “Is this a joke?!”
“I didn’t know anything,” Eliana replied calmly, her gaze still fixed on the door.
“Well, in that case,” Mariana said with a fake smile, “you really are part of our family. We support you. Family is all that matters, right?”
Eliana turned to them.
“Family? You?” she smiled bitterly. “Where were you when I lost my son?” When did I cry at night because of your humiliations? When did you treat me like a servant?
“Eliana, don’t exaggerate,” Lucas tried. “That was in the past. We can start over. We’ll go to Munich together, I’ll buy you something nice, you’ve always wanted a dress…”
She took a step back.
“Don’t touch me. For years you made me feel like nobody. And now that you find out I have money, will you remember that I’m your wife?”
“Eliana, please…”
“No, I’m going. Not for the money. For myself. Because I’m tired of living in a cage and being a shadow. You don’t deserve to be with me.” His voice trembled, but his eyes radiated determination.
He entered the bedroom and packed his bags without a word. Mariana mumbled something, but Eliana didn’t hear it.
When the front door slammed behind her, Lucas ran to the window and looked at her without turning around. He didn’t know what to say. Only now did she understand who she had lost.
Munich welcomed them with fresh air, beautiful architecture, and the smell of morning coffee. At the notary’s office, they handed her the keys to the villa, the deed, and a letter. From her father.
My dear Eliana. Forgive me for not being there for you. I was a coward. But everything I have is yours now. Use it all to become stronger. Live. Don’t look back. You deserve the best.
– Your father, Franz.
She held the letter in her hands and looked out the window at the streets of a city that had once been foreign to her, but was now hers.
For the first time in years, she was free.
Not because of the money. But because the pain no longer held her power.
Eliana rented a small apartment in the city center and enrolled in a fashion design program, her childhood dream. Wealth allowed her to do many things, but what she valued most was the freedom to decide what she wanted to do, how she wanted to think, what she wanted to feel.
Sometimes she still dreamed of Lucas. His ever-sarcastic voice echoed in her head. But every morning she woke up smiling, because that voice no longer held power over her.
Six months later, Eliana presented her first collection at a design exhibition for young creatives. Simple silhouettes, clean lines, warm colors. The inspiration came from the city where she had grown up. Her clothes felt like memories: sadness and lightness all at once.
The audience rose to their feet to applaud.
In the front row sat Daniel Kowalski, the same lawyer who had once knocked on her door.
“That was… incredible,” he said as he approached. “You did it.”
“I’m just getting started,” she replied with a smile.
And indeed… it was all just the beginning.
