ISBN 978-5-0056-4287-5

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      From the Author

      Once upon a time, a great king ruled in a small country. In this beautiful kingdom, a girl lived with her father, stepmother and non-native sisters. The named relatives nicknamed her Cinderella because she often did dirty and dusty work around the house.

      Wait a minute, dear reader will say, but where is the novel based on real events? Probably, reading the title of the book, you will think that the author may begin to tell the good old fairy tale of Charles Perrault “Cinderella”, only remade in his own way.

      But there is some truth in this. This story happened in real life, it happened to a person who survived it from the beginning to the very end.

      And when you finish reading the book to the very last page, you will learn a completely new story of a modern young woman, in which people who met her on their way also saw Cinderella. Will there be a fairy tale? Of course it will, only you yourself will have to understand whether it is miracles or the inner strength of the heroine’s character and immeasurable love for a loved one helped her to live on and fight against the vicissitudes of fate.

      Chapter 1

      Sometimes, under the guise of love, a test comes to us

      I often ask myself the question: how will I love a man if I meet a sincere and real feeling. Love is something important to me in life, and I wanted to be honest in my relationship, because it will be my real love.

      So the frosty winter is over, and the first spring days have come, the sun’s rays, like bunnies, playfully play on my window.

      Beautiful early morning. Opening the sash of the window frame and taking a deep breath of spring air, I take a sip of fragrant coffee brewed in a new coffee machine, press the “start” button on my laptop, the monitor lights up, and long live the miracle of scientific progress. I like to read articles on the Internet in my free time, sometimes I visit the Odnoklassniki website and communicate with my friends there.

      And here’s the letter, I wonder who it’s from?

      – hello.

      They wrote to me from a page without a photo, I usually ignore such mail, but now I decided to talk, maybe some friend is hiding behind a faceless profile.

      – Who are you? – I wrote back.

      – My name is Peter, I am a priest, I serve in the Orthodox Church. I live in the city of Chernihiv in Ukraine. I’m not old yet and I’m not young anymore, I’m forty-three years old.

      – Very interesting, and I’m Vlada.

      – Good health to you, Vlad, and your family!

      – Father, I live alone and am not married.

      But there was no more response.

      I had to finish my coffee alone.

      It didn’t cost me much effort to put on makeup, because my naturally well-drawn facial features practically didn’t need to be tinted. Blue eyes with long, fan-like eyelashes, a straight nose and beautiful wide eyebrows lay in an even line on my oval face. My figure was slim, but for this I always had to sit on long grueling diets in order to maintain a thin waist and beautiful legs. My long blonde hair gave my face freshness and made me younger than my years.

      Soon I left the house and was at work in a beauty salon all day. There was a lot of work that day.

      The weather began to deteriorate in the evening, it was raining, interfering with melted snow and mud, it turned the road into a gray, muddy mud. Because of this, it was hard to walk and had to avoid puddles. For a few minutes I stopped at the entrance and, admiring, looked at the evening sky. Bright stars were burning on it, and among their brilliance I saw a constellation very similar to the Big Dipper. It even seemed to me that she was looking at me with her sad eyes, probably she was missing a little bear next to me, like me.

      I quietly went into the apartment and closed the door behind me. In order not to be bored, I sat down at my laptop, and when I opened the Odnoklassniki website, I read there an interesting message from my new acquaintance, Father Peter.

      – Your happiness is not going anywhere from you.

      “What a nice man,” I thought. And I posted some of my successful photos, turned off the computer and went to rest.

      Love cannot be predicted or hurried, it will come by itself with the beautiful murmur of the stream and the singing of birds, transforming your whole life.

      At the age of thirty-five, I had quite a successful business in the field of beauty. My salon was called “Healthy Care” and was located in the center of Novosibirsk. When the front door opened, the bell rang, notifying of the arrival of each visitor, and at this time the face of our administrator Ekaterina spread out in a kind and hospitable smile.

      – Good afternoon, what can I offer you,” she said politely.

      So the days passed in the hustle and bustle of work.

      One day I got free a little earlier than usual, went to the Odnoklassniki page and saw a message from Father Peter.

      – You are a nice lady, judging by the photo. I would like to hear your voice.

      I was pleased with this, and without hesitation I texted him my phone number.

      There are so many roads and moments in life that decide our fate, and we do not think that this second will be the main countdown of your new path.

      The next morning, the smell of coffee cheered me up, and after a few sips, my brain was already in working mode. A minute ago, I wanted to climb into a chair with my feet, turn on the TV and spend the whole day like this.

      But the phone rang and I answered.

      – Vlada Romanovna, I’m really waiting for you at work, I need to talk, – Katerina, my assistant, said in an anxious voice.

      “Okay, I’ll be right there,” I replied.

      I went outside, the weather was sunny, a light breeze touched my face and gently blew my thick, long hair.

      The phone rang again, I was sure that Katya was calling me, so I quickly said:

      – I’m running, I’m running.

      And she quickened her pace.

      But he didn’t calm down, he kept ringing anyway, and as soon as I put it to my ear, I immediately heard a man’s laughter.

      – Where are you running to? a pleasant voice asked cheerfully.

      – Excuse me, but who am I talking to now? I asked, slowing down a little.

      – Dear Vlada, I’m sorry that I don’t know your patronymic, it’s Father Peter calling, to whom you left your phone number in Odnoklassniki.

      – It’s very good that you called me,” I said in a joyful voice.

      – I feel that you are glad to receive my call. I liked the photos that you posted on your page.

      – Thanks.

      “You know, you have a very beautiful voice,” Peter said good – naturedly.

      – So many nice compliments, – but then the second line intervened in our conversation, and I switched to it.

      – Yes, tell me.

      – Vlada Romanovna, administrator