I could tell you a tale that would make your hair stand on end about greed, money laundering, cybercrime, and basically common theft and blackmail.
I will write this as fiction, even though it is fact. I will not name names, even though I could. I want to be left in peace.
As we begin with the tale that rivals anything Dickens could have concocted:
'The relationship between Willy Greenfrond and Viktoria Uberfarmer was based on mutual contempt, a common thirst for wealth, and a sense of elitism that simply threw the Ten Commandments out of the window where any crime they committed was concerned.
Among documented crimes they had committed, together or separately were theft, blackmail, fraud, and at the top of this whitewashed pyramid of accomplishments, murder.
Viktoria actually had a sister who was her elder, but she had been rewriting history for decades to portray herself as an only child born of the barren union of her mother and her stepfather. Somehow she hoped to be able to create a canvas locally that completely ignored the real family, wherein her father and mother had two children and one granddaughter from each. In an interview for a local paper, she spoke of three generations that consisted only of her stepfather and mother, herself, and her polyamorous daughter. Other family members read the article, but the other dqughter and granddaughter really were unfazed. It was par for the course from the mouth of an egocentric sociopath.
The day the worlds of Viktoria and Albie collided was auspicious for both of them. He, a Jewish man from New York who had gained nothing after the death of his local wife, was trawling a Catholic Grief Group for a rich widow, and obtained a two for one deal.
Viktoria acquired a flunkie, a man who lied to her initially about his status and assets, but ultimately proved more useful and pliable as a penniless scoundrel.
The family reacted like a flock of silly geese. 'Viktoria is in love!' they cried. 'Finally there is some one to take her off our hands!'
They had grown weary over the years of Viktoria's manipulations. She would order up a driver in the form of an aunt or uncle as though they were her personal unpaid Uber fleet. She would ask to be taken to the supermarket where she would complete a huge shopping and then, when she reached the cashier, with mock surprise claim she had forgotten her handbag. Her aunt would be forced to pay for the lot and then chaffeur V. back home.
As the story goes, Auntie finally lost patience and insisted Viktoria go home to fetch her money to pay for the goods herself.
The entire family must carry some of the responsibility for creating two generations of monsters. They pandered to these two manipulative women endlessly. Indeed, one of the reasons Viktoria refused to speak to her sister for about a decade was because she refused an outrageous demand.
Viktoria essentially summoned her sister and her family to meet them at an aeroport for half an hour rather like a meeting with an inferior on a royal tour. The fact rhat other family members had agreed to these brief uncomfortable and highly inconvenient meetings had calcified Viktoria's sense that this was normal procedure. It would be a three hour drive each way. Her sister said plainly that the plan was absurd. She suggested a real visit instead, either at her home or in the City.
That was the last she ever heard from Viktoria until their mother threatened to cut her out of the inheritance unless she made peace with her sister.
More of this later. Most of the scullduggery belongs to the era after the death of the mother.
I consider the world of finance to be a marshland of immorality. Not too long ago, I tried to help a family member find 'a man with good hair' on a dating app. As I had no experience with dating apps myself, I was fascinated with the concept of simply swiping left or right to accept or condemn to oblivion. It made me feel like I was a Roman who had the power to deliver thumbs up or down. It quickly became a little tiresome.
One of the more educational moments was when almost immediately, I was accosted by a man who was rather handsome, purported to be an Irish Catholic, and had some measure of personal charm. Rather quickly, I discovered he was trawling for elderly women of means to persuade them to invest through him in cryptocurrency.
He was a babe in the woods though compared to my childhood sweetheart who systematically lied, stole, and comprehensively hacked all of my accounts shortly after my mum died.
After seeing the Irish bloke had three entirely different profiles on social media, and absurdly claimed to own a private jet, small yacht and vacation home in Hawaii, as he lamently occasionally the fact that all he wanted in life was a home of his own, I completely closed all avenues of communication. I never introduced him to the actual object of his desires. I was kinder to him than she would have been. Absurdly I had wished to protect her a little from the sexual and financial predators, when in fact she can speak quite plainly and effectively.
So back to Russian grift. What a tale that is! I should have understood from the start that a man who alternately insults and then romances you has no feelings whatsoever for you or is emotionally stunted. Either situation does not promote happiness.
I was weak emotionally as I had just endured both cancer, my mother's death and great treachery and cruelty at the hands of some members of my family and their agents.
I since have discovered that many people suffer the most grievous losses and hurt at the hands of their own siblings, but wishful thinking dominated my soul at that point in time.
Looking back, I feel my childhood 'friend' probably was one of her agents as well, even though she always declared she had nothing but contempt for him. If he really had cared about me even as a friend, he eould have contacted me sooner and not looked to profit for it.
'Business as usual' he called all of the deceit, hacking, stealing, as well as attempts to create false details for the purpose of blackmail. I was set up to look like a less than competent woman. My mistake was that I always am too polite to tell some one he or she is a liar.
