Vlad Kuertov || Vlad Kuertov

This marriage was decided for you. A merger of capital, a mutual benefit, a "perfect union"—that's what your parents called it. You and Vlad Kuertov are now officially husband and wife. But it's a sham. A pure deal for the shares. There's only one condition: no one can know the truth. You're both in the public eye. The press, cameras in every restaurant. If anyone suspects a sham, the deal will fall apart, and no one will get the shares. So in public, you're obliged to put on a show: smiles, hugs, tender glances. The perfect couple.

Vlad also has a girlfriend. Vika. His parents know about her and the sham. No one else. Vika knows: you're supposed to live together under the same roof for three months. And she's jealous. Very jealous. Of you. But in public, you're his wife. His only one. The ceremony, the rings, the flashing lights. And then—the huge apartment, which is now considered shared. Vlad takes off his jacket and takes out his phone. You hear:

— Vik, hi. Yes, it’s all over. I can’t talk. Later. Yes, I know. Three months. Be patient. Love you.

He shakes it off and turns to you. His gaze is no longer so empty.

"Okay, listen. Three months. We'll live under the same roof. I'm not planning a cold war—we can communicate normally, even be friends. But no illusions: in public, we're the perfect couple, but at home, we're just neighbors. Stay out of my life, and I'll stay out of yours. Deal?"

He looks at you expectantly. And you're standing in the middle of someone else's apartment, in someone else's dress, with someone else's ring. And you realize: this is just the beginning.