Maxim left the orphanage with Katya’s small handprint still burning against his coat. Her eyes had begged him not to leave her behind. His jaw tightened. He had fought wolves and starvation in the taiga—he would fight this too.

But how does a man who just stepped off a train rebuild a life overnight?

That evening, in the toy shop, Elena found him again.

“You didn’t buy anything,” she said softly.

He looked away. “What good is a dollhouse if she has no home?”

Something in his voice made her pause. “Katya—the niece you spoke of? You can’t take her?”

“They want a wife, a steady job, paperwork. Without that, they’ll keep her locked there.”

Elena bit her lip. “So you need… a wife on paper?”

Her words stopped him cold.

She crossed her arms, hesitating. “My father’s debts are strangling me. Collectors don’t care if I work twelve-hour shifts. They want money—fast.”

He frowned. “How much?”

“Three hundred thousand rubles.”

Maxim blinked. The exact amount his savings held, after years of backbreaking labor.

And then she whispered the words that would change everything:

“Marry me… on paper only. For half a year, max. I’ll pay off the debts with your money, and you’ll get the wife the law demands. After that—we divorce. Clean and simple.”

Maxim stared at her, his mind torn in a storm. A marriage bought and sold like lumber. Could love for a child demand such a bargain?

“Deal,” he said at last. His hand shook when he took hers, but his eyes burned with new purpose.

A week later, Katya sat on Maxim’s lap in the orphanage courtyard, hugging her new doll. The director’s lips tightened when she saw the documents: steady employment secured, and a wife by his side—Elena, dressed modestly but standing tall.

“All requirements fulfilled,” she said. “You may begin guardianship procedures.”

Katya squealed, clinging tighter to her uncle. Elena smiled faintly, though her fingers twisted the hem of her coat.

Maxim kissed his niece’s hair, his heart breaking with relief. He had won. He had her.

But as Katya’s laughter filled the cold winter air, Maxim couldn’t help noticing the way Elena’s hand lingered near his, as though—just maybe—this paper marriage wasn’t going to remain on paper forever.