He stood in my doorway like he owned my apartment, demanding I sign papers and accept money for a rental, claiming the place belonged to him and his mother. I refused. My parents left me the apartment, the last place I felt connected to them.
After the divorce, Dmitri and his mother tried to claim it through forged documents, false receipts, and fabricated witness statements. I gathered my inheritance records and hired a lawyer, who said their case was unlikely to hold up.
On the hearing day, I arrived with my documents. To my shock, the judge turned out to be the father of my ex-boyfriend Alexei, who had once caused me a nervous breakdown after deceiving me during our relationship. He revealed that he knew about the past and saw through the forgeries immediately.
The judge dismissed the case, warned them about legal consequences, and confirmed the apartment was mine. Their fraud became evidence against them.
I changed my locks, fixed my home, and stayed in the apartment my parents left me. The lesson I take is that exhaustion can make you want to stop fighting, but sometimes holding on is necessary when someone tries to take what is yours. My father’s uneven bookshelves are still on my wall. No one is taking them.