Lana, her face shadowed with determination, stared into the mirror and whispered:
— An orphanage rat, through and through! But rats have claws and sharp teeth. And I’m not giving up without a fight.
Such fierce words could be traced back to Lana’s past. She grew up in an orphanage, and as far back as she could remember, no one had ever shown her any interest. She watched countless children find homes with adoptive families, even if some returned, unable to connect with those who took them in.
Yet young Lana had a remarkable gift for academics. Teachers and caregivers often remarked:
— If only she were a bit softer. Such a bright girl. And beautiful, too.
Lana’s striking appearance made her stand out, but it also drew envy. Other girls would gang up on her, locking her in closets or throwing blankets over her head to beat her without interference. Lana never ran to the staff to complain, choosing instead to handle her tormentors herself. Once they realized she wasn’t an easy target, the other girls backed off.
The day came when Lana and the other eighteen-year-olds were ceremoniously sent off into the world, handed their documents and left to fend for themselves. Numbers and calculations had always fascinated Lana, so she chose to study applied mathematics and computer science.
For the first two months, she received housing assistance. But once she enrolled in university, the need for a job became urgent. Unfussy, Lana arranged to move in with an elderly woman who was looking for tenants.
— Just make sure you keep the room spotless! — the landlady barked sternly.
The apartment was, to put it mildly, dilapidated. Still, the owner treated her property like a museum, demanding reverence for every chipped surface. For the first two months, whenever Lana was out, the landlady would inspect her room, scrutinizing how she washed her bedding, checking for cleanliness, and sniffing around for traces of cigarettes or alcohol. Finding nothing amiss, the old woman would leave, dusting furniture as she went.
Lana gave her no reason to complain, and soon the landlady softened, even inviting her to share meals.
— I overdid it with the cooking today… So much food… Come on, sit down! It’ll go to waste otherwise.
Lana took a job as a cleaner at a private clinic, where she worked diligently. Arriving early, she mopped floors, dusted surfaces, refilled water dispensers, watered plants in the lobby and wards, scrubbed sinks, and polished mirrors until they gleamed. She finished everything before the administrators arrived, earning their approval for staying out of their way during the workday—unlike her predecessor.
Self-conscious about her plain clothes, Lana avoided socializing with her peers. They soon gave up on her, dismissing her with comments like:
— She’s so dull! Just a bookworm! What’s there to talk about with her?
Her university years followed a relentless cycle: study, work, apartment. No flings, no personal life. Lana knew she had little to offer materially, so she poured all her energy into achieving success.
Her programming projects gained recognition, and several magazines offered her opportunities to write articles for a general audience.
— We don’t need dry, academic stuff. We want you to explain complex things simply, like you’re talking to a friend. Can you do that?
Lana tried, and she succeeded. The most popular magazine, with a million-strong readership, gave her a regular column, publishing her articles twice a month. Positive reader feedback brought in substantial earnings. She quit her cleaning job and devoted herself entirely to intellectual work. At a conference, the jury chairman approached her, beaming with admiration:
— I’ve been eager to meet you. It’s truly an honor!
Lana was taken aback. She’d never heard such praise directed at her before.
At the banquet, a young man approached her:
— I heard your speech today. I was blown away! Forgive my boldness, but I just have to introduce myself. I’m Victor.
Lana was speechless. She wasn’t used to men showering her with attention. Her new acquaintance gazed at her with unabashed interest, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction.
Victor began calling her often, sometimes meeting her after work to walk her back to her rented apartment. He was the only son of wealthy parents and taught foreign languages at a prestigious university. At his father’s insistence, he was searching for an intelligent wife.
— Son, intelligence comes from the mother’s side. Don’t fall for a pretty face, or your kids will be neither smart nor attractive.
Victor’s parents had already decided what kind of woman their son should marry. Their list of requirements was daunting: intelligence, beauty, and well-connected family ties topped the list. While Lana checked the first two boxes, she fell short on the rest.
Victor’s mother, Clara, was openly hostile, pursing her lips and frowning whenever Lana spoke or acted without consulting her. Clara’s disapproval extended to everything.
— Why did you buy that tea? Yes, it’s the kind we drink, but you should’ve asked me first!
— Why did you change the bedding a day early? I wanted to air out my coat on the balcony! You should’ve checked with me! What if it was occupied?
Clara’s biggest grievance, however, was Lana’s professional life. She bristled whenever colleagues called to invite Lana to conferences or academic roundtables.
— Good Lord! As if they can’t hold a meeting without this nobody! — Clara would scoff, rolling her eyes. — If they knew what kind of gutter she crawled out of, they wouldn’t give her the time of day!
Victor pretended everything was fine, avoiding the tension between his wife and mother. But soon, he began to pull away from Lana.
One day, Clara reminded Lana of her orphanage roots, sneering that she’d never be fit to raise a child properly. Lana, with a calm smile, responded:
— I may be from an orphanage, but our baby has you—his grandparents. You have such a tight-knit family and raised such a wonderful husband for me. Surely you’d want to help raise your grandson to be as admirable as his father?
Clara froze, then licked her lips and spat:
— Don’t even dream of it! We’ll never consider that brat our grandson. Who knows what filthy ditch you conceived him in or with whom!
Lana paled, then flushed with anger. Victor, overhearing his mother’s words, stood frozen. Instead of intervening, he fled to the balcony, claiming he needed to shut an open window. His voice rang out:
— Lana! Why are you just standing there? Why’d you open the window when the screen’s torn? The bugs will eat us alive tonight!
— The window? Bugs? — Lana stared blankly at Clara, who reveled in her triumph.
— You can’t even think of something that simple! — Clara taunted. — Where did my son even find you? Is life in the dumps really that glamorous? You’re an embarrassment to show to relatives. No family, no roots!
Lana had had enough. She wanted to hear Victor’s stance, but his behavior made it clear he was terrified of his mother’s wrath. Soon, she got her answer:
— My mom doesn’t say things for no reason. It’s your fault you can’t get along with her.
— So it doesn’t bother you that she insults me, practically calling me a streetwalker? — Lana pressed. — And it’s fine with you that she’s talking about our child like that?
— Why are you making a big deal out of this? — Victor shouted. — It’s her business what she says. Just agree with her and keep doing your job.
— Fine. I’ll do my job. I’m filing for divorce tomorrow, — Lana replied coldly.
Her orphanage upbringing had taught her not to complain and to make decisions swiftly. It would be tough at first, but she’d live in peace, free from being anyone’s doormat.
This resolve gave the expectant mother strength. The next day, she filed for divorce without hesitation.
Back at Victor’s parents’ house, she packed her belongings into a suitcase and called a taxi. She’d already secured a rented room and paid the deposit. Clara watched closely to ensure Lana didn’t take anything of hers. Satisfied, she left the room without a word.
Victor was at work, so Lana hauled the heavy suitcase to the street alone, refusing to ask Clara or her husband for help. She loaded it into the taxi and left.
When Victor returned home, he found his mother unusually pleased with herself.
— Thank God! That rootless pauper is gone. Don’t worry, son. Women are a dime a dozen. A catch like you will have them flocking. Just pick one.
Victor shrugged and went to wash his hands. He never fully grasped how he felt about his wife’s departure and only went to the courthouse to finalize the divorce.
Clara was ecstatic:
— What a relief that lowlife didn’t try to squeeze us for child support. As if we’d stoop to dealing with some orphanage trash! No family, no lineage!
Clara began aggressively searching for a new wife for her son, whom she’d always considered the pinnacle of perfection.
— My boy speaks four languages. He’s so domestic, so calm. You can discuss lofty ideas with him, — she gushed, praising Victor. — He was so unlucky with his first wife! Dreadful. How did he ever fall into her clutches?
Thankfully, she left when she realized she couldn’t ride our coattails to paradise.
Friends listened politely, nodding sympathetically, but none rushed to introduce Victor to eligible women. They all knew Clara’s domineering personality, honed by years in high-powered roles, and the ruthless tactics—blackmail and flattery—she used to climb the ladder.
Clara was irritated by Lana’s silence. In her mind, Lana should’ve come crawling back, begging for forgiveness and a second chance to serve their family. But that never happened.
After giving birth to her son, whom she named Ethan, Lana cut off all contact with anyone connected to Victor. Word eventually reached Victor that his ex-wife was thriving, writing for magazines while raising their son.
One sunny spring day, while strolling with Ethan in the park, Lana came face-to-face with Victor and Clara, who were walking arm-in-arm. Clara had been feeling unwell, and her husband’s bad knee kept him from joining her, so she’d pulled Victor from his classes to accompany her. Victor walked with a distant expression, barely noticing his surroundings. Then they heard a familiar voice:
— Yes, the article’s almost done. I’ll send it by seven tonight. Yes, exactly as you requested. Great, have them call me to discuss. Perfect! Same payment terms. Goodbye.
It was Lana, pushing a stroller with a sleeping Ethan. Clara, frowning, scanned her former daughter-in-law from head to toe and shook her head in disapproval. Lana was well-dressed, and the stroller was clearly high-end, with sturdy wheels and a sleek design. Ethan’s face was hidden by the canopy, but his little legs, snug in soft leather booties, were visible.
Clara, ever calculating, mentally tallied the cost of Lana’s and Ethan’s outfits. She concluded:
— That nobody can’t possibly earn that much honestly. She must be sleeping around for cash. Good riddance. She’d have disgraced my son with her shady behavior.
Victor considered approaching to see his son, but Clara’s stern glare kept him rooted in place. Lana passed by, rummaging in her bag as if distracted, and didn’t glance back. Clara snorted:
— Shameless!
When Ethan turned two, Lana received a call requesting a face-to-face meeting. Victor had previously tried contacting her behind Clara’s back, but Lana shut him down firmly:
— You didn’t say a word when your mother declared she’d never accept Ethan as her grandson because she thinks I got pregnant by some random man. So go back to your mommy’s skirts. She’ll have the whole city looking for you with sirens and dogs otherwise.
Lana nearly declined, assuming Victor was behind the call. But the caller, with a faint foreign accent, interrupted:
— Forgive me, Ms. Lana. I won’t waste your time. I’ve come from Salzburg specifically to meet you. It’s urgent.
Intrigued, Lana agreed to meet in a quiet location to avoid distractions.
Two hours later, she entered a private booth at the Magnolia restaurant and saw a man in his sixties, youthful and fit for his age. He bowed politely and gestured for her to sit.
— My name is Klaus Korn. I’m the executor of Mr. Erwin Heinz’s estate, tasked with fulfilling his final wishes as outlined in his will.
— Who’s Erwin Heinz? — Lana asked, puzzled. She couldn’t fathom what connected her, an orphanage girl, to some foreign tycoon.
— If you’ll allow me, I’ll explain…
As a young man, Erwin Heinz frequently visited Russia. At a party, he met Anna Sokolov, an MSU student. Their passionate romance led to Anna’s pregnancy. When Heinz’s father learned of it, he demanded his son’s return and forced him to marry a business partner’s daughter. Anna was left alone, pregnant and penniless. She dropped out of university and returned to her small hometown, where she gave birth to a daughter she had to surrender to an orphanage.
— That’s quite a story, — Lana said.
Anna tried contacting Heinz, but her efforts failed. The stress took a toll, and she wrote a letter to the Austrian embassy, detailing her daughter’s birth and pleading for her care. Heinz received the letter too late—Anna had already passed away. Unhappy in his own childless marriage, Heinz, after suffering a stroke, revised his will. His daughter was named the sole heir to his vast estate.
— I already said it’s a fascinating story, right? — Lana glanced at her watch. She needed to get back to Ethan. — But what does this have to do with me? I’m an orphan. No family, never had any.
— That’s my point, Ms. Lana. You are Mr. Heinz’s daughter. We confirmed it through letters and orphanage records from when your mother, Anna Sokolov, gave you up.
Lana was stunned, momentarily speechless.
— You’re saying Mr. Heinz is my father? — she asked, incredulous.
— Precisely. And you’re his sole heir. Three months have passed since the will was read, so you can now begin claiming your inheritance.
— It’s still hard to believe, — she murmured.
Korn produced a thick folder containing envelopes, letter fragments, and document copies. After reviewing them, Lana was convinced.
— This is unreal! I know it’s true, but it’s still so hard to accept.
— With your permission, I’ll start the process for you to claim your inheritance, — Korn said with a bow. — I leave for Austria tomorrow. My mission was to find you and confirm your identity.
Six months later, Lana moved into a luxurious apartment in an upscale neighborhood, not far from where Victor still lived, still the eligible bachelor. Clara occasionally spotted Lana with Ethan, who bore a striking resemblance to Victor as a child. Unable to resist, Clara approached, hoping to meet her grandson.
She assumed Lana was just playing hard to get. When Lana firmly refused, Clara bristled.
— I don’t get why you’re acting so high and mighty when you parade around here every day, rubbing it in our faces!
— I bought an apartment here. I like this area. There’s a great preschool for my son and plenty of amenities. I don’t need to go far for anything. But you’re right—I shouldn’t show up too often to avoid gossip.
— Bought an apartment! — Clara sneered to her friends, recounting the encounter. — I wonder how many men she had to sleep with to afford some shack. She probably struts through our neighborhood on purpose to flaunt her so-called success.
— You know, it’s not a shack, — her friends corrected her. — Your ex-daughter-in-law didn’t buy just anything. She got a palace. Have you seen the new building? Two apartments per floor. She lives there, with a spot in the underground garage. Word is, she found a father abroad who left her a massive fortune.
Clara nearly choked.
— No way! What’s she going to do with all that money? She’s got no brains, no imagination! Where’s Victor?
Victor had been spending his nights in bars, where he felt appreciated—until his money ran out. Then he’d be shown the door and stumble home to sleep off the day. Clara found him in his room, staring glumly out the window, muttering to himself.
— Why are you sitting there looking like a mess? — she snapped. — Shower, clean up. We need to get Lana back! She’s raising our flesh and blood.
— Mom, what? — Victor blinked, confused. — It’s like you’re the one who’s drunk, not me. Why would I need to get Lana back? And since when do you call her by her name? You never did that before.
Clara rolled her eyes.
— Can’t I change my mind about someone?
— No, you can’t, — Victor smirked. — Not unless you’ve got a damn good reason. Just tell me what you’re after if I bring Lana back.
Realizing there was no point in hiding it, Clara spilled the news about Lana’s inheritance.
— You gave her a son. She should be grateful. Let her share with us. We’re her only family! — she insisted, and Victor, as always, obeyed.
When he showed up at Lana’s building, she didn’t even let him speak.
— Your mom sent you again? Can you make a single decision without her? — she mocked.
Victor, serious for once, replied:
— I married you, didn’t I? Without her input!
— And that’s why she made my life hell, — Lana shot back. — Here’s the deal: stay out of my sight and stop wasting my time. We’ve been divorced for ages. You have no claim on me. I never took a penny from you, even when things were tough. And you haven’t seen your son in nearly a year since he was born. Draw your own conclusions.
Victor returned empty-handed. From then on, he started drinking at home, downing bottles while his parents were out. To his mother’s scolding, he’d reply:
— What did you expect? You pushed her away, now deal with it.
Lana, planning her first trip abroad to see the house her father left her, met Alex, an architect ten years her senior. He bonded instantly with Ethan. After two years of steady companionship, Alex proposed. They celebrated with a lively wedding, and Alex’s parents couldn’t stop praising their daughter-in-law.
— It’s so rare to find someone with intelligence, beauty, and integrity all in one. Alex is lucky to have found such a gem.
To test Alex’s intentions, Lana kept her inheritance a secret until the last moment. When she finally told him about her Austrian father, he shrugged.
— Doesn’t matter. What matters is that because of him, I met you and Ethan. I haven’t been sitting idle either—I run my own home design firm. So, even without your inheritance, we won’t go hungry.
This translation preserves the original meaning, adapts names for an English-speaking audience (Lana, Victor, Ethan, Clara, Alex, Anna, Klaus, Erwin), and maintains the dialogue structure with dashes. The SEO title is designed to be gripping and clickable, hinting at the dramatic arc of Lana’s journey without revealing the full resolution.
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