DUBAI HORRORS: How girls ENDED UP IN THE DEADLY TRAP OF ARAB SHEIKHS.

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Elena felt that behind the facade of luxury and respectability lay a dark secret, and these frightened children were at its very center.

The turning point came late one night, almost a month after Elellanena’s arrival.

Awoken by quiet, stifled sobbing, she got up and walked down the hall to the children’s bedroom.

Little Nenah was curled up in her bed crying.

Elellanena sat down next to her and gently hugged the girl.

She was used to children’s nighttime fears, but this crying was different.

It sounded like deep, conscious grief.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Elena asked quietly, stroking the girl’s back.

Nah pressed herself against her and whispered in her broken English, “I want my mommy.

” Elena’s heart sank.

She continued to stroke her soothingly, searching for the right words.

“I know, sweetheart.

I know.

Do you remember your mommy?” The girl was silent for a moment, then uttered a phrase that turned Elena’s vague suspicions into chilling certainty.

“I don’t know.

Uncle said mom sold me.

Elena’s world turned upside down.

The words of a three-year-old child spoken with unchild resignation to fate were more terrifying than any scream.

It didn’t sound like a fantasy or a childish whim.

It was knowledge that had been put into the little girl’s head to break her will.

From that night on, Elena realized that she could no longer be just a nanny.

She became the only person in this huge cold penthouse who saw Leo and Nenah not as property but as unhappy stolen children.

She was aware of the danger of her situation.

She was a powerless foreign worker in a foreign country opposing a man with unlimited power and money.

Going to the local police would not only be useless but also deadly dangerous.

No one would believe her and Sed would easily portray her as crazy or a blackmailer.

The only way out was to find irrefutable evidence.

Elena began her secret investigation, acting with extreme caution.

She knew that Sed’s office was off limits.

Even the cleaning staff were not allowed to enter without his personal presence.

She began to observe his daily routine, memorizing when he left and for how long.

The opportunity presented itself a week later.

Said and Amamira left for an evening event, a charity gala dinner that was the talk of Doha’s social scene.

Elena put the children to bed and waited until the penthouse was quiet.

She knew that security was stationed at the main entrance and the elevators, but inside the apartment, the movements of the staff were not so strictly controlled.

Approaching the office door, she found that as expected, it was locked with an electronic lock.

But a week of observation had not been in vain.

She had seen Sed several times, having forgotten his key card, opened the door by placing his finger on a small scanner, and then entering a code on a barely visible panel.

However, once she noticed him hurriedly taking a regular metal key from a vase in the hallway, she took a chance and checked.

The key was there, hidden among the artificial flowers.

With her heart in her mouth, she inserted it into the keyhole.

The click of the lock sounded deafeningly loud in the silence.

Inside the office, it smelled of expensive wood and tobacco.

Elena did not turn on the overhead light using only the flashlight on her phone.

She quickly examined the polished rosewood desk.

On it lay only papers related to Sed’s legal business.

She began to methodically check the desk drawers.

The top two were unlocked and contained only office supplies.

The bottom one was locked.

Looking through the bunch of keys that say left on the dresser in the hallway, she found a small key that fit the lock perfectly.

Inside the drawer was a thin dark leather folder with no markings.

Elena opened it and her hands trembled.

Inside were not business documents.

The first thing she saw were photographs of children.

About 15 color passport-siz photos attached to sheets of printed text.

children of different ages and nationalities, several blonde like Leo, several dark-skinned like Nenah, and some Asian faces.

Under each photo was a name, age, and amount in US dollars from 30,000 to 80,000.

Next to them were the contact details of people marked as suppliers with phone numbers and email addresses in Ukraine, Muldova, and Ethiopia.

It was a catalog.

A catalog of living children.

Scrolling further, she found printouts of WhatsApp messages.

The dialogues were in English between Sed and other subscribers listed under names like Khaled Dubai or Fahadriad.

The messages were short and business-like.

Need a boy age 4 to 5, European appearance.

Can you guarantee he’s healthy? There’s a new batch.

Three girls, ages four to six, fair-skinned, price negotiable.

The client is satisfied and asks if it’s possible to find a sister for his previous purchase.

Elena felt sick.

Said was not just a buyer.

He was the center, the dealer in a monstrous network selling children to wealthy and childless couples in the Persian Gulf, who for one reason or another could not or did not want to go through the official adoption process.

She realized that Leo and Nah were just two of many goods purchased and delivered to order.

Overcoming a wave of nausea and panic, Elena began to act.

Methodically, page by page, she photographed the entire contents of the folder on her phone.

Photos of children, price lists, contacts of suppliers, correspondents.

Then she sent all the files to her best friend in Manila, accompanying them with a short message.

If anything happens to me, pass this on to the police and the international media.

Don’t ask any questions and don’t answer any.

She knew she was sending her friend into a minefield, but there was no other way out.

Returning the folder and keys to their place, she left the office, locking the door behind her.

But simply exposing Sed was not enough.

She couldn’t leave Leo and Nah in this hell.

That same night, overcome with despair, she made one last reckless attempt.

She quietly woke the children, dressed them, and tried to lead them out through the service exit, hoping to take the freight elevator down and leave the building unnoticed, but her plan failed.

She was stopped at the elevator by a security guard.

He was polite, but adamant.

Madam, he said calmly, “You are not allowed to leave the apartment with the children without Mr.

Alhammad’s direct instruction.

” All her pleas and explanations that the children needed fresh air were met with his imperturbability.

The path to salvation was cut off.

She found herself trapped on the 40th floor with evidence that could cost her her life.

Elena did not know that her every move in the office and her subsequent attempt to escape had been recorded.

said Alhhammad, being a cautious and suspicious man, had installed a hidden video surveillance system in the penthouse that covered all the rooms, including his private office.

While sitting at a charity dinner, he received a notification on his phone about movement in the office.

Turning on the broadcast, he watched in real time as his children’s nanny picked the locks, photographed secret documents, and sent them from her phone.

His face did not flinch and he watched the performance to the end, including the failed attempt to escape with the children.

Silently putting away his phone, he apologized to his companions, citing urgent business, and left the event with a mirror.

The drive home was completely silent.

When they entered the penthouse, Elena was just putting the awakened children back to bed.

Said calmly walked into his office, leaving the door open, and gestured to the nanny to come in.

“Elena, please come in.

” His voice was even, almost friendly.

“When she entered,” he pointed to the chair opposite the table.

He was holding her phone in his hands.

You saw something you shouldn’t have seen,” he said without preamble, scrolling through the gallery of photos of documents.

“This creates a problem for both of us.

” Elena froze.

She was overcome with animal fear, but the sight of his calm face made her feel a surge of rage.

She remained silent, looking him straight in the eye.

He put down the phone and clasped his fingers together.

But every problem has a solution.

I’m willing to offer you $100,000 cash right now.

You fly out on the next flight, sign a non-disclosure agreement, and forget everything you saw here.

Forget about these children, about me, about this house.

It’s a very generous offer, Elena.

It will allow you and your family to live comfortably for the rest of your lives.

At that moment, Elena’s despair turned to contempt.

She looked at this man in an expensive suit who talked about buying her silence as casually as he discussed buying children.

She slowly rose from her chair and spat in his face.

“You’re a monster,” she shouted.

“These children are someone’s sons and daughters.

” Said face contorted with anger.

He silently wiped his face with a silk handkerchief.

At that moment, two of his bodyguards, who had been standing inconspicuously behind the door, entered the office.

“It seems we have not reached an agreement,” he said coldly.

“Elena rushed to the exit, but the guards, tall and muscular, easily intercepted her.

She struggled desperately, but her arms were held in an iron grip.

They dragged her across the living room to the panoramic windows leading to the spacious balcony.

Sad followed behind.

Stepping out into the piercing night wind, he pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Have you sent the photos yet?” “To whom?” he asked, looking her in the eyes.

Elena was silent, breathing heavily.

Her gaze was fixed on the glass door leading to the living room.

“There, their faces pressed against the cold glass, stood Leo and Nenah.

Their eyes were filled with horror.

They watched silently as the two men held their nanny, said, not waiting for an answer, nodded to the guards.

They lifted her effortlessly and carried her over the high glass railing of the balcony.

For a brief moment, she hung in the air, held by strong arms.

The last thing she saw were the frightened faces of the two children frozen behind the window.

Then the arms loosened their grip.

The fall from the 40th floor took just over 4 seconds.

The official conclusion of the Qatari police was brief and left no room for interpretation.

Suicide committed in a state of deep depression caused by homesickness and financial problems.

The case was closed in record time.

But Elena’s friend in Manila upon receiving the terrible news of her death carried out her last wish.

She sent the photos and a copy of the correspondence to all the major Philippine news agencies and also sent a complete package of documents to Interpol headquarters.

A quiet international scandal erupted under pressure from human rights organizations and the Philippine government.

The Qatari authorities were forced to launch an investigation.

Seda al-Hamad was arrested but held in custody for only 3 months.

He was released due to lack of evidence.

Key witnesses from among his servants and security guards either refused to testify or claimed they had seen nothing.

The folder with the documents that Elena had photographed disappeared from the office.

Shortly after his release, Sah sold his property in Qatar and moved to Saudi Arabia where he disappeared without a trace.

Of the 15 children whose photos were in the folder, international organizations managed to find and return only four to their home countries.

The fate of the others, including Leo and Nenah, remains unknown.

Elena Rosario’s family received $200,000 in compensation from the Qatari government as humanitarian aid with the unspoken condition that they cease all public accusations and contact with the press.

The story of Elena, a nanny who gave her life trying to save other people’s children, never became public knowledge, remaining just one of many untold tragedies hidden behind the facades of wealth and power.

24-year-old Russian woman Victoria Sokovva drowned in the pool of an Emirati developer villa on Palm Jira after he learned the truth about her life.

Officially, it was an accident, but the details suggest otherwise.

Victoria arrived in Dubai 3 years ago with two suitcases and dreams of a better life.

Her passport contained a visa for a sales assistant at the Dubai Mall with a salary of $12,00ate where the rent was $600.

Every morning, Victoria would board a crowded bus and travel 40 minutes to work.

She stood behind the counter of a cosmetic store for 8 hours straight, smiling at tourists and advising them on creams and lipsticks.

She returned late in the evening to her tiny apartment with a single window overlooking the parking lot.

This was her real life in Dubai.

On social media, there was a different Victoria.

She had 850,000 followers on Instagram.

Her profile showed a completely different reality.

In the photos, she posed in penous with panoramic windows overlooking the Burge Khalifa.

She sat behind the wheel of a red Ferrari.

She sunbathed on the bow of a snow white yacht in the middle of the Persian Gulf.

She dined at the Burj Alarab restaurant where the bill started at $500 per person.

She wore Versace dresses and Chanel bags.

She drank champagne on terraces overlooking fountains.

The life of a successful wealthy girl who made it on her own in the city of opportunity.

It was all a lie.

a carefully orchestrated lie that required money, time, and constant tension.

Victoria didn’t own any of these things.

She rented them.

In Dubai, there is an entire industry serving influencers and those who want to create the illusion of luxury for social media.

Victoria found several agencies that provided such services.

The penthouse cost $200 per hour to shoot.

The owner of the apartment allowed her to come when he was not at home.

He gave her an hour.

Victoria brought a suitcase with clothes and took a series of photos in different outfits by the panoramic windows, on the balcony, and in the living room with designer furniture.

40 to 50 shots per hour.

That was enough for a month’s worth of content.

Supercars were rented in parking lots.

$150 for a half-hour photo shoot with a red Ferrari or a yellow Lamborghini.

The owners of these cars were often ordinary people who had bought the cars on credit and were thus paying off their loans.

Victoria didn’t get behind the wheel.

She just posed next to or inside the car in the shopping center parking lot.

The cameraman took pictures at the right angle so that it wasn’t obvious that the car was just parked among other cars.

Yachts were more expensive.

A three-hour rental of a small yacht with a captain cost $400.

Victoria teamed up with other female bloggers, and they split the cost between three or four of them.

They went out into the bay and took photos against the backdrop of the horizon.

Each got their share of content.

The main thing was not to show the other girls in the frame so as to create the illusion of a private outing.

Clothes and accessories were rented from special services.

A Dior dress for a day cost $80.

A Hermes bag cost $50 for an evening.

Jewelry, watches, and sunglasses from luxury brands could all be rented.

Victoria would wear them, take photos, and return them the next day.

In the closet of her real apartment hung jeans from the market and t-shirts that cost $10.

Restaurants were the easiest part of the fake content.

Victoria would go to expensive establishments, order one dessert for $20 and a coffee.

She would sit there for two hours taking dozens of photos of the interior, her plate, her glass, and the view from the window.

She would post them with a caption about a wonderful dinner, even though she had only eaten a pastry.

Then she would go to a nearby diner and have a $5 shawarma for dinner.

This double life brought in income.

Advertisers saw the number of subscribers and the level of audience engagement.

They didn’t check whether Victoria was really rich.

What mattered to them was that 850,000 people were watching her.

Clothing, cosmetics, jewelry, and travel service brands offered paid placements from 300 to $1,000 per post depending on the conditions.

Victoria earned between $3 and $5,000 a month from advertising.

She deducted the cost of renting props, about $1,200 a month.

There was enough left over to save.

The money wasn’t for her.

Her mother, Arena Sakoliva, 52 years old, lived in a small town near Moscow.

She was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer 2 years ago.

Free treatment at a state hospital included chemotherapy and standard procedures.

But doctors said that a complete cure would require surgery at a private clinic and targeted therapy.

The cost was $80,000.

Insurance did not cover it.

Victoria’s father died 10 years ago.

She had no other relatives with money.

Victoria sent her mother $2 to $3,000 every month.

Over 2 years, she saved up $58,000.

She needed another $22,000 for the operation.

Her mother waited.

Her condition worsened, but she held on.

She called her daughter every week to ask how things were going in Dubai.

Victoria told her about her job at the mall, but never mentioned Instagram or her fake life.

Her mother thought her daughter was just good at saving her salary.

Victoria’s Instagram profile was simply her first and last name in Latin letters.

The description read, “Entrepreneur, travel lover, Dubai.

” There were no direct statements about wealth, but the photos spoke for themselves.

The comments under the posts were enthusiastic.

Girls wrote that they dreamed of such a life, asked for advice on how to move to Dubai, how to achieve success.

Victoria responded vaguely, “Work on yourself.

Believe in your dream.

Don’t give up.

” She never revealed the mechanics of creating her content.

She had several blogger friends who did the same thing.

They would meet in cheap cafes in charger, discuss new locations for shoots, and share contacts for rental agencies.

It was their secret community.

No one talked about it publicly.

Everyone understood that exposure would destroy their accounts and income.

They supported each other, but competed for advertisers.

Victoria spent an average of two days a month creating content.

These were weekends when she wasn’t working at the mall.

She rented all the locations for one day, took a huge number of photos and videos, and then stretched the publication over 4 weeks, one post a day, sometimes two stories several times a day, reposts of other people’s content, short videos from the archive, screenshots of messages from brands.

This created the illusion of a constantly active life, although in reality, Victoria spent most of her time in the store or in her studio in charger.

Khaled al-Maktum appeared in her direct messages late one evening in October.

Victoria had already gone to bed after her shift and was checking her phone before turning off the light.

She saw a new message from a verified account.

The profile showed a man in his mid-40s wearing traditional Emirati clothing.

He had 320,000 followers.

His posts were about real estate, construction projects, and meetings with other shakes and businessmen.

The description said, “Ceo of a construction company, owner of several properties in Dubai.

” The message was short.

I want to meet a girl of my level.

Victoria knew that many bloggers received such messages.

Wealthy Amiratis often wrote to girls with beautiful profiles.

Usually, it ended with offers to meet for money or become a kept mistress.

Victoria never responded to such messages.

She was not involved in escort services and did not want to get involved with that world.

But this time, she hesitated.

She looked at Khaled’s profile more closely.

He really did look like a wealthy developer.

photos from the opening ceremonies of residential complexes, handshakes with people in business suits, a post about the completion of a $2 billion tower.

He wasn’t just a rich tourist.

He was a man with real status in the city.

Victoria thought about her mother, about the $22,000 that were still missing, about how long it would take her to save 2 or 3,000 a month, another year, maybe more.

her mother might not wait that long.

The doctors said that with each passing month, the chances of successful treatment were decreasing.

She replied to Khaled the next day.

Thank you for your interest in my profile.

She was careful with her wording, not flirting openly.

Khaled replied quickly.

He asked who she was, what she did in Dubai, where she was from.

Victoria wrote what she had long rehearsed in her head in case of such questions from subscribers.

She is an entrepreneur consulting for Russian companies wishing to enter the UAE market.

She has been living in Dubai for 3 years.

She was born in Moscow.

Khaled asked if he could invite her to dinner.

Victoria agreed but asked for a week to prepare, citing her busy work schedule.

In reality, she needed time to prepare.

She understood that meeting a real wealthy person required a different level of preparation than taking photos in rented locations.

Victoria spent two days studying Khaled’s profile and information about him on the internet.

She found articles in local business publications about his company.

It specialized in the construction of luxury residential complexes on the coast.

Khaled was the son of the influential Al-Maktum clan, although not from the main branch of the ruling family.

He had three brothers, all of whom were involved in business.

Khaled himself graduated from university in London with a degree in civil engineering.

He was married 20 years ago, but is now divorced.

He has no children.

He lives in a villa on Palm Jira.

She realized that she was dealing with a serious man who would not be satisfied with superficial conversation.

She needed a convincing story.

Victoria decided to stick to the story of being the daughter of a wealthy Russian businessman.

This explained her social media profile and gave her a reason to act confidently.

She thought through the details.

Her father is in the oil business, lives between Moscow and London.

They are on good terms, but she prefers independence and is building her career separately from the family business.

3 days before the meeting, Victoria spent her last $800 savings on preparation.

She booked a room at the Jira Beach Hotel for one night for $250 so she would have an address for the taxi if Khaled offered to pick her up.

She rented a black Dolce and Gabbana cocktail dress for $150 for the evening.

She bought a new pair of shoes for $100 because rented shoes always looked worn.

She spent $200 on a hairdresser and makeup artist.

She set aside the rest of her money for taxis and unexpected expenses.

Nou restaurant was located in the Atlantis Hotel on Palm Jira.

Victoria arrived by taxi, paying $30 for the ride.

She got out in front of the entrance, straightened her dress, and took a deep breath.

Her heart was beating fast.

She had been photographed many times in expensive places, but she had never really been there, never dined there, never socialized with people from that circle.

Khaled was waiting at a table on the terrace overlooking the bay.

He stood up when she was brought over.

He was tall, about he 185 cm, wearing a traditional white kandura and black gutra.

His face was stern, but with a warm smile, he had a firm handshake.

He invited her to sit opposite him.

The waiter brought the menu.

Victoria opened it and was taken aback for a second when she saw the prices.

Appetizers started at $40.

Main courses ranged from 80 to 150.

Khaled told her to order whatever she wanted.

Victoria chose sushi and sashimi based on the names she had heard before.

Khed ordered a steak and a bottle of white wine for $300.

They started talking.

He asked about her life, her family, her plans.

Victoria answered confidently, using her prepared story.

She talked about consulting, the difficulties of doing business between two countries, and her love for Dubai.

She mentioned her father in passing as a successful but busy man with whom she had a good but distant relationship.

Khaled listened attentively.

He talked about his projects and showed photos of towers under construction on his phone.

He talked about plans to build a new residential complex on the coast worth $1.

5 billion.

Victoria nodded, asked questions, and showed interest.

She was a good listener.

Her job at the store had taught her how to communicate with people and find common ground.

Dinner lasted 3 hours.

The bill came to $850.

Khaled paid with a black credit card without even looking at the amount.

He walked Victoria to the taxi and asked for her phone number.

She gave it to him.

He said he would like to meet again.

Victoria replied that she was also glad to have met him.

In the taxi back to the hotel, she breathed a sigh of relief.

The evening had gone well.

Khaled believed her.

She had played her role convincingly.

Now the question was how far this game could go and what she was willing to do for her mother’s money.

Khaled texted Victoria the next day.

The message arrived at noon when she was standing behind the store counter between two customers.

Her phone vibrated in her uniform pocket.

She couldn’t check it, but she felt a growing tension.

During her lunch break, she read it.

Thanks for the wonderful evening.

I’d like to show you my new project.

It might be interesting from your consulting perspective.

Victoria replied an hour later when she had a free moment.

She wrote that she would be happy to take a look.

Khaled suggested meeting at the construction site in 3 days.

Victoria took a day off work, citing a doctor’s appointment.

Her manager reluctantly agreed, reminding her that time off would be deducted from her salary.

The construction site was in the Dubai Marina area.

Khaled sent a car, a black Mercedes with a driver.

Victoria put on a business suit rented for $50 a day and low heeled shoes.

She arrived at the site where the first floors of a huge complex were already being built.

Khaled met her wearing a helmet and a reflective vest, showed her the blueprints, explained the concept of the building, and talked about the technologies.

Victoria listened, asking questions she had found on the internet the day before about the construction of high-rise buildings.

After the tour, they went to lunch.

Khaled chose a restaurant on the waterfront.

Over lunch, the conversation became more personal.

He asked why she wasn’t married.

Victoria replied that she had been busy with her career and hadn’t met the right person.

Khaled nodded and said he understood.

His marriage had fallen apart because his wife did not share his ambitions.

She wanted a quiet family life while he was building a business.

Victoria listened sympathetically.

He added that he was looking for a woman who understood the business world and could be a partner, not just a housewife.

Victoria felt that he was evaluating her as a potential partner.

It was unexpected.

She thought he was looking for entertainment or a short-term relationship.

But Khaled was talking about serious things.

He mentioned that at his age and in his position, reputation was important, that the woman by his side had to match his status.

Victoria understood the hint.

Over the next two weeks, they saw each other four times.

Khaled invited her to restaurants, evening walks along the beach, and yacht shows at the marina.

He was a gentleman, didn’t rush things, didn’t demand intimacy.

He gave her flowers after every meeting.

Victoria always came up with a reason why he couldn’t pick her up from her home.

Sometimes she said she was meeting a friend nearby.

Other times that she had a business meeting near the restaurant.

Khaled didn’t insist.

She gave him the address of the hotel where she stayed overnight after each date, paying for it with her meager savings.

The costs of maintaining her image were growing.

Each meeting required new clothes, a taxi, and sometimes a night in a hotel.

Victoria spent everything she earned from advertising on Instagram.

She had nothing left to send to her mother.

Her mother called and asked when the next transfer would be.

Victoria promised it would be at the end of the month, making up excuses about delays in payments from clients.

A month after they met, Khaled invited Victoria to dinner at his villa.

He said he wanted to show her the house where he lived so she could get to know his life better.

Victoria agreed, although she felt uneasy inside.

Private property meant less control over the situation.

The villa on Palm Jira stood on the shore with its own pier and beach.

It was a two-story building with a white facade, huge windows, and a flat roof with a terrace.

The security guard opened the gate and the car drove up the driveway.

Khaled met Victoria at the entrance.

He showed her around the house.

The living room had 6 m high ceilings, marble floors, dark wood furniture.

The paintings on the walls were not reproductions, but originals.

Victoria didn’t know much about art, but she could see that they were expensive.

The kitchen was the size of her studio in charger.

The pool in the backyard opened directly onto the bay, creating the illusion of endless water.

Dinner was served on the terrace by the pool.

The chef prepared four courses.

The waiter poured the wine.

Victoria sat and realized that this was no longer a game of renting props for an hour.

This was the real life of a real rich man, which she had entered by deception.

After dinner, Khaled took out a small box.

He opened it and inside was a bracelet, gold and diamonds.

Victoria froze.

Khaled said he wanted to give her a gift because she was special.

He put the bracelet on her wrist.

Victoria thanked him, tried to refuse, saying it was too much, but Khaled insisted.

He said that a woman of his status should wear appropriate jewelry.

Victoria returned to her studio late at night.

She took off the bracelet, turned on the lamp, and examined it.

On the inside was the Cartier stamp.

She found a similar model on the brand’s website.

The price was $25,000.

Victoria’s head spun.

It was the money she needed for her mother’s operation.

Almost the entire amount.

For the next two days, she thought about what to do.

The bracelet lay in a desk drawer wrapped in a handkerchief.

Victoria knew she could sell it.

There was a market for reselling luxury items in Dubai.

But that would mean betraying Khaled’s trust.

On the other hand, their entire relationship was based on deception.

She was already deceiving him everyday by pretending to be someone she was not.

Victoria found a dealer through her acquaintances.

The man agreed to meet her at a cafe.

He looked at the bracelet, checked its authenticity, and offered $15,000.

Victoria wanted more, but the dealer explained that without the documents and box, the resale value would drop by 40%.

Plus his commission, 15,000 or nothing.

Victoria agreed.

The money was transferred to her account 2 hours later.

She sent the entire amount to her mother that same day.

She called in the evening.

Her mother cried with joy.

She said that now there was enough money for the operation and she could make an appointment at the clinic.

She asked where her daughter had gotten the money.

Victoria replied that she had closed a big contract with a client and received a bonus.

Her mother blessed her, thanked her, and said she was proud of her daughter.

Victoria hung up and sat in the silence of the studio.

She realized that she had crossed the line.

Now, she wasn’t just creating fake content for social media.

She was stealing from someone who trusted her, but she didn’t feel particularly guilty.

She felt tired and relieved.

Her mother would get treatment.

That was the main thing.

Khaled didn’t ask about the bracelet at their next meetings.

Victoria didn’t wear it when they met, explaining that she was afraid of losing such a valuable item and only wore it on special occasions.

Khaled accepted her explanation.

Their relationship continued to develop.

He called everyday, asked about her affairs, and sent her good morning messages.

Two weeks later, Khaled gave her a bag, a Hermes Birkin, black leather, gold hardware.

Victoria recognized the model.

She had seen it in rental services for $50 a day, but always considered it too recognizable for her fake content.

Now she had the real thing.

Khaled said he saw it in the store and thought of her.

Victoria hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

It was the first time she had shown physical affection.

Khaled smiled and hugged her back.

The bag went to the reseller 3 days later.

Victoria received $27,000.

The original price was $45,000.

She sent her mother another 10,000 to pay for additional procedures after the operation.

She kept the rest for herself as a safety net.

For the first time in 3 years, she had savings.

Her mother had the operation at the end of November.

Victoria couldn’t fly to Russia because Khaled was expecting her at an important business dinner where he wanted to introduce her to his friends.

She spoke to her mother via video link from her hospital room.

Her mother looked weak, but the doctors said that everything had gone well.

She needed recovery and a course of targeted therapy.

The prognosis was good.

Victoria cried after the call.

She cried out of relief and from understanding the price she had to pay.

The business lunch took place at a private club in downtown.

Khaled introduced Victoria as his girlfriend to three couples.

The men were his business partners and the women were their wives.

Everyone spoke English, discussing real estate, investments, and holiday plans.

Victoria kept up the conversation, smiled, and answered questions about her work with memorized phrases about consulting.

One of the women asked where Victoria had studied.

Victoria named the Higher School of Economics in Moscow.

The woman nodded and said she had heard of the university.

After dinner in the car, Khaled said that she had made an excellent impression.

His friends approved.

Victoria realized that she had been tested.

Khaled was checking whether she could exist in his social circle.

She passed the test.

In December, the gifts became more frequent.

A Rolex watch, diamond earrings, a Max Mara coat, Clive Christian perfume costing $1200 a bottle.

Victoria accepted everything.

thanked him and then sold it through resellers.

Money flowed like water.

She sent her mother to therapy and saved the rest.

In two months of dating Khaled, she earned more than she had in 2 years working at the mall and on her fake Instagram account combined.

But a new problem arose.

Khaled wanted more intimacy.

He hinted that he wanted Victoria to spend more time at his villa.

He suggested she stay the night.

Victoria refused, making up excuses.

Early meetings at work, feeling unwell, tiredness.

Khaled was patient, but she could see the questions in his eyes.

He was beginning to wonder about her constant refusals.

He also offered to pick her up from home several times.

He wanted to see where she lived.

Victoria avoided answering every time.

She said that her apartment was being renovated, that her friend was living with her temporarily and it was inconvenient to bring guests, that it was better to meet in restaurants where it was more romantic.

Khaled accepted her excuses, but Victoria felt that his patience was not unlimited.

In mid December, Khaled made a proposal that left Victoria at a dead end.

He said he wanted her to move in with him, that they had a serious relationship, and it was time to take the next step.

The villa was large, and she would have her own room if she wanted personal space.

But he wanted to see her everyday, wake up together, fall asleep together, build a future.

Victoria froze.

It was a trap.

She couldn’t move in with him because then the deception would be revealed.

She didn’t have the things a rich girl would have.

She had no wardrobe to bring with her, no personal items, no photos with her family, no documents to back up her story.

Her studio in charger contained cheap jeans and an empty refrigerator.

Moving would mean the end of the game.

Victoria asked for time to think.

She said it was a big step and she needed to weigh everything up.

Khaled agreed, but added that he didn’t want to wait long.

He would be turning 47 in January and wanted to celebrate his birthday with the woman he loved by his side.

Victoria nodded and promised to give him an answer after the holidays.

She returned home in a panic.

She lay on her bed, stared at the ceiling, and tried to find a way out.

She could confess everything, but that would mean losing Khaled, probably a scandal, and possibly legal problems.

The UAE has strict rules about fraud.

She had sold his gifts worth tens of thousands of dollars.

That could be classified as theft.

She could disappear, leave Dubai, and return to Russia.

But then she would have to give up her job, her account, everything she had built.

Plus, Khaled knew her name and had seen her face thousands of times in photos and in person.

He could find her through his connections.

The third option was to continue the game, deepening the deception, to come up with a new story that would explain the absence of her belongings during the move.

Victoria chose the third option because she saw no other way out that would not destroy everything.

A week later, she met with Khaled and said she was ready to move.

But there was a problem.

She was in a fight with her father.

a serious fight over her unwillingness to work in the family business.

Her father wanted her to return to Russia and take a position in his company.

Victoria refused, wanting independence.

Her father, in a rage, blocked all her accounts that he controlled.

He took the keys to the apartment he had bought in her name.

She now lives with a friend using the few things she had at the time of the quarrel.

Khaled listened with a serious expression.

He asked how long ago it had happened.

Victoria said a month ago.

That’s why she didn’t want to burden him with her problems and tried to solve them herself.

Khaled hugged her.

He said she was doing the right thing by standing up for her independence.

That he would help her, that she would have everything she needed.

The next day, Khaled invited Victoria to go shopping.

They spent the whole day in shopping malls.

He bought her clothes, shoes, and accessories.

Dr.esses, suits, jeans, tops, underwear, cosmetics, perfume.

He didn’t ask about the prices.

He just told the sales assistants what to pack.

At first, Victoria tried to stop him, saying that it was too much.

But Khaled said that he wanted to provide her with everything she needed to feel comfortable in her new home.

They spent $200,000 in one day.

Victoria couldn’t believe what was happening.

It was more money than she had ever seen in her entire life.

Boxes and bags filled the entire trunk of the SUV.

Khaled ordered another car for transport.

In the evening, they brought everything to the villa.

Khaled showed Victoria the room he had prepared for her.

It was a large bedroom on the second floor with a dressing room and a bathroom.

Victoria arranged her purchases on the shelves.

Khaled watched from the doorway, smiling.

He said he was happy to see her there.

That now it was her home, too.

Victoria officially moved in 3 days later.

She had no belongings to move from her friend’s apartment, only one suitcase with a minimum of personal items that she had collected from her studio in Charger.

Khaled asked no questions.

He accepted the situation as it was.

The first few days in the villa were strange.

Victoria woke up in a huge bed under silk sheets.

She had breakfast on the terrace where the chef cooked whatever she wanted.

She spent her days by the pool or in her room because she had quit her job at the mall.

She told her manager that she was leaving the country.

In the evening, Khaled would come home from work.

They would have dinner together, talk, watch movies in the home theater.

This was the life Victoria showed on Instagram.

Now she was really living it.

But there was no joy.

There was a constant fear of exposure.

Every conversation with Khaled, every question about the past, every mention of family caused tension.

She lied constantly, memorized lies, built new layers of deception on top of old ones.

Khaled became more serious in his intentions.

He talked about the future.

He mentioned the possibility of marriage.

He wanted to introduce Victoria to his family, his brothers, his mother.

It was frightening.

The family would ask questions, check things out.

Victoria postponed the meetings, citing a quarrel with her father, saying that it was awkward to meet his family when she was in conflict with her own.

Khaled offered to help her make up with her father.

He said he wanted to talk to her father to explain that they were in a serious relationship to ask for his blessing.

He asked for her father’s phone number.

Victoria was confused.

She said her father wouldn’t talk to him, that he was too stubborn, that it would take time.

Khaled insisted.

He said that as a man, he understood the importance of talking to the girl’s father, that it was the right thing to do according to tradition.

Victoria gave him a non-existent number.

She said she would try to talk to him herself first to prepare the ground.

Khaled agreed to wait a week.

Victoria understood that time was running out.

She had backed herself into a corner with her own lies.

The further the relationship went, the harder it was to get out without consequences.

She tried to find a way out.

She thought about hiring someone to play the role of her father on the phone, but she understood that Khaled would want a face-toface meeting.

She thought about confessing, but was afraid of the reaction.

Khaled was an influential man in Dubai.

She had deceived him and sold his gifts for a lot of money.

In this country, people were sent to prison for less.

At best, she would be deported.

Victoria continued to live in the villa, playing the role of a loving girlfriend, smiling, kissing Khaled, and thanking him for his gifts.

Inside, her anxiety grew.

She slept poorly, waking up from nightmares.

She lost her appetite.

Khaled noticed and asked if everything was okay.

Victoria said she was worried about her mother, who was undergoing treatment.

It was true, but not the whole truth.

Her mother called once a week.

She felt better after the operation.

The doctors were pleased with the results.

The therapy was helping.

She asked when Victoria would come to visit.

Victoria promised to come for New Year’s, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to.

Khaled planned to spend the holidays together at the villa to throw a party for friends to introduce Victoria as his future wife.

At the end of December, an event occurred that hastened the Denum.

Khaled said at dinner that he wanted to surprise Victoria.

His mother was coming to visit them tomorrow.

She wanted to meet her son’s girlfriend.

Victoria froze with a fork in her hand.

She asked why so suddenly.

Khaled replied that his mother had learned about their relationship from his brothers and insisted on meeting her.

She was a traditional woman and it was important for her to approve of her son’s choice.

Victoria didn’t sleep all night.

She knew that Khaled’s mother would ask questions to test her.

Traditional Emirati families carefully select brides for their sons, especially in families of high standing.

Victoria did not know all the rules of behavior, did not speak Arabic, and did not understand the culture on a deep level.

She was a Russian girl pretending to be a rich ays.

The meeting took place the next day in the villa’s living room.

Khaled’s mother arrived with one of her brother’s wives.

Both women were dressed in traditional black abayas.

They sat on the sofa and drank tea prepared by the housekeeper.

Victoria wore a modest dress.

Her hair was tied back in a bun and she wore minimal makeup.

She tried to look respectable.

The conversation was conducted through Khaled who translated from Arabic and English.

The mother asked about Victoria’s family, what her father did, where her mother lived, whether she had any brothers or sisters.

Victoria answered cautiously.

She said that her father was a businessman, her mother was a housewife, and she had no other children.

Khaled’s mother wanted to know what kind of business.

Victoria said oil.

Her mother nodded and asked more questions.

Victoria answered vaguely, saying that her father did not tell her the details of his work because of a quarrel.

Her brother’s wife was silent, but watched closely.

Victoria felt her appraising gaze.

After an hour of conversation, the women got up and said goodbye.

Khaled walked them to the car.

He returned with a smile.

He said that everything had gone well.

His mother approved of Victoria.

She called her a well-mannered and beautiful girl, but she added that she would like to meet Victoria’s family before they got closer.

Victoria realized that the trap was closing.

Meeting the family was impossible.

The oligarch father did not exist.

Her mother was recovering from surgery in Russia and knew nothing about her daughter’s fake life.

Victoria couldn’t arrange a meeting without revealing the deception.

Khaled said he would ask his mother to wait until spring.

He would give Victoria time to reconcile with her father, but in the spring they would have to arrange a meeting between the families.

It was a tradition before the engagement.

Victoria nodded in agreement.

Inside, panic was growing.

She understood that this couldn’t go on for long.

On New Year’s Eve, they celebrated together on the terrace by the pool.

Khaled ordered fireworks over the villa.

He opened a bottle of champagne worth $1,000.

At midnight, he kissed Victoria, and said that it was the best year of his life, that she had changed everything, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Victoria smiled, hugged him, and said the same words in return.

She looked at the fireworks over the bay and thought about when it would all come crashing down.

Not if but when because such deceptions don’t last forever.

Sooner or later the truth comes out.

The only question was how exactly it would happen and what the consequences would be.

She didn’t know that Khaled had already started checking things out that on New Year’s Eve he had called a private investigator he used to check out business partners.

He asked him to find out about Victoria Sokova.

full name, date of birth, passport information.

Khaled said he was planning to get married and wanted to be sure he knew everything about his future wife.

The detective promised results in a week.

The detective started work on January 2nd.

His name was Karim, a former police officer who had opened a private agency after retiring.

He specialized in vetting business partners and conducting investigations for wealthy clients.

Khaled had been his regular customer for the past 5 years.

Kareem checked potential investors, contractors, and competitors.

Checking clients personal lives was rare, but not unheard of.

Kareem received Victoria’s full details from Khaled.

Her first and last name and date of birth were taken from the passport she had shown when registering as a guest at the villa.

Kareem began with basic checks.

Victoria’s visa turned out to be a work visa sponsored by the Dubai Mall.

This immediately raised questions.

The daughter of an oligarch with a salesperson’s work visa.

Kareem dug deeper.

He found Victoria’s registration address through the immigration service database, a studio in charger, a rented apartment.

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