“Go back to your parents. I hope you freeze out there!”

Luca’s voice cut through the hallway like broken glass. Before I could even process what was happening, his fingers clamped around my arm. I barely managed to say, “I didn’t do anything,” before he yanked the door open.

The cold air slammed into me.

I was wearing only a thin nightgown. In seconds, icy wind wrapped around my legs. Then came the shove.

I stumbled onto the landing. My knees hit the tiles. The door shut.

Click.

Then the heavy, final sound of the lock turning.

“Luca!” I pounded on the wood with numb fists. “Please! It’s freezing!”

No answer.

No footsteps.

Just silence.

Burgos in winter doesn’t forgive. The cold seeped into my skin like needles. The tile beneath me felt like ice. My fingers began to stiffen. My breath came out in thin, panicked clouds.

I pressed the doorbell again and again.

Nothing.

I staggered toward the stairwell window, trembling, scanning for anything heavy enough to break the glass. A flowerpot. A metal edge. My own rage.

And in that moment, Luca’s favorite line echoed in my mind:

“Where would you go? You have no one here.”

He’d said it so often it sounded like truth.

Then another door opened.

Slowly.

My elderly neighbor stepped out. Doña Irina Petrov stood wrapped in a thick robe. She didn’t look shocked. She looked… tired. As if she’d witnessed too many versions of this scene in her lifetime.

Her eyes moved over me calmly.

“Come,” she said firmly. “Before you get sick.”

There was no pity in her voice. No drama. Just quiet authority.

I followed.

Her apartment was warm. The heat hit me so suddenly I nearly cried. She draped a blanket over my shoulders and handed me a steaming mug.

“Your husband works at NorteLog, correct?” she asked.

I nodded.

Her gaze sharpened slightly.

“My son is his superior,” she said evenly. “Tomorrow… your husband will be the one asking for mercy.”

For the first time that night, the fear shifted.

I barely slept. My body kept jolting awake, replaying the sound of the lock. Irina asked no invasive questions. She left clean pajamas on the sofa and pointed to the bathroom.

Before dawn, she said quietly, “You will not go back alone.”

At sunrise, there was a knock.

A tall man in a dark coat entered. Controlled posture. Measured voice.

Sergei Petrov.

“I understand enough,” he said. “But tell me this — do you have your documents?”

My stomach dropped.

Everything was inside the apartment. Passport. Residence card. Bank cards. My phone.

Luca always insisted on “keeping it safe.” Now I saw the trap clearly.

“They’re inside,” I whispered.

Sergei’s jaw tightened. “We’ll handle it properly.”

Police were called.

A lawyer would be contacted.

“This won’t be fixed with flowers,” Sergei said quietly.

When we returned to the apartment with officers, Luca opened the door with a rehearsed smile.

“Darling, it was just a misunderstanding—”

Then he saw the police.

Then he saw Sergei.

His expression emptied.

Inside, as I gathered my belongings, my hands shaking, I opened a drawer to retrieve coins and found something else.

An envelope.

Bank statements.

Transfers.

Large amounts.

Names repeated.

Numbers that didn’t make sense.

Suddenly Irina’s earlier words echoed:

“People who lock doors often open drawers they shouldn’t.”

Sergei later confirmed what I suspected. For weeks, irregularities had appeared in company accounts. Small at first. Then growing.

“I suspected an accounting error,” he said quietly. “Now I suspect him.”

I didn’t want to be the reason for his downfall.

Then I remembered the snow.

If he could leave me to freeze, what else could he do?

That afternoon, he appeared at Irina’s door holding cheap flowers.

“I lost everything,” he pleaded. “Sergei is destroying me.”

Irina looked at him calmly.

“You destr0yed yourself,” she replied. “You closed the door.”

He tried to catch my eyes.

“Hanna, I can’t do this without you. Please. One last chance.”

I stepped forward — close enough for him to hear me, far enough that he couldn’t reach me.

“Last night, you left me in the snow,” I said quietly. “Today, I’m leaving you in peace.”

The lawyer filed reports.

Protective measures were granted.

The internal company investigation confirmed the financial misconduct.

Luca was terminated.

Weeks later, he sent one final message:

“You ruined my life.”

I read it.

Saved it.

Blocked him.

I didn’t ruin anything.

I just refused to freeze for him ever again.