ROWLAND (From Ruin to Rule)

The grand event center sparkled with elegance, every detail meticulously arranged for Mr. and Mrs. Jones's 20th-anniversary celebration. They both dressed in matching outfits that screamed wealth and taste.

The elegantly attired guests' chatter, the sound of clinking glasses, and the gentle strains of a live orchestra filled the air as the venue came alive. 

Family and guests gathered around them to hand them their luxurious gifts, and other fancy tokens of the guests' appreciation.

“I know you two love jewels so much. Here, this is an imported jewel from Colombia, the Rockefeller Emerald. It is worth six million dollars.”

“This is for you and your wife my friend, a cheque of two million dollars.”

“Dad, Mom, I bought you guys favorite Chinese tea, Pu’erh Tea. It was rare to find though. This is worth two hundred thousand dollars.”

The Joneses were, after all, not just celebrating an anniversary but a life of success and prosperity. Happiness filled their eyes as they were given lots of gifts. As the evening wore on, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and stories of shared memories. 

Then, Rowland, a son-in-law to Mr and Mrs Jones, approached the couple. His shoes were scuffed and his suit was older, making him a striking contrast to the glamorous crowd. But his desperate expression in his eyes was what really made him stand out, not just the way he looked.

“Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones.” Rowland began, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry to bring this up, but Mrs Patricia is very ill, and the hospital bills need to be paid today. Please, can you lend me a million dollars to cover her treatment. Please, I’m begging you.” 

The room went silent. The music, the laughter, everything seemed to pause as Rowland’s plea hung in the air. For a moment, no one spoke.

What audacity! On an occasion like this, this live-in son-in-law did not even come along with a gift, but he has the boldness to ask for a million dollars!

It was four years ago when Grandpa Jones brought Rowland into the Jones family from the street, when he helped him from robbers. He gave him a job at the Jones company. His Granddaughter, Amaya fell in love with Rowland and they got married. Then, Rowland was as poor as a church rat.

Ever since Grandpa Jones passed away, Rowland has been so used, disrespected and insulted by all the members of the Jones family, he was even demoted to being a cleaner in the company. He was indeed, a maltreated and mistreated victim. And he spent his days in the Jones family as a live-in son-in-law.

Mrs. Patricia, the eldest maid in the house who was handed the responsibility to look after Rowland by Grandpa Jones before he died, needed a liver transplant worth a million dollars.

Rowland was so poor to afford that, which made him moved to ask Mr and Mrs. Jones on their anniversary day for it.

After some time of silence. Then, as if on cue, the whispers began.

"Who does he think he is?"

"At a celebration like this?"

"Doesn't he have any shame?”

The voices grew louder, the words sharper. Mrs. Jones looked horrified, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Rowland. “Rowland, how dare you bring such a request to us tonight? This is a celebration, not a charity!”

Others chimed in, guests who barely knew Rowland but felt emboldened by the Joneses' disapproval. 

“This is an anniversary, not a place to beg for money!” One guest sneered. 

Another added, “You should be ashamed of yourself, coming here with such a story! And you even came here empty handed.”

Rowland felt the humiliation wash over him, blushing with shame. He started to reply, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“Mother, please pay no attention to Rowland, I am sure he is not thinking fine.” Just then, Amaya tried to drag Rowland away from their sight.

Mrs. Jones's expression turned icy as she stepped forward, her voice dripping with disdain. "Rowland, you’ve always been a burden. I’ve tolerated you because of Grandpa Jones, but this? This is a new low, even for you. How dare you bring this filthy request on our special night?"

Rowland, though used to their contempt, couldn’t help the tightening in his chest as Mrs. Jones’s words cut through him. She refused to give him the opportunity to defend himself.

"You have brought this family nothing but shame. Look at yourself, begging for money like a common beggar,” Mrs. Jones continued, her voice rising. “But perhaps there is a way for you to redeem yourself. Divorce my daughter. Leave Amaya and let her marry Clinton. Do that, and I’ll give you two million dollars. Enough to cover your precious maid’s surgery and a little extra for you to disappear from our lives for good.”

Rowland’s heart pounded in his chest, but he didn’t hesitate. “No,” he said firmly. “I will never divorce Amaya. I love her, and I won’t trade her for money.”

Mrs. Jones’s face twisted in fury. “You fool! Do you think your love means anything when you can’t even provide for her? "You are nothing but a leech, not a man!"

A silence descended upon the room as the event hall's massive double doors suddenly opened. The entryway guards stood up straight, introducing the newcomer with a respectful expression on their faces.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Clinton, the Vice President of Fence Emerald Company!”

Clinton strode into the room, exuding confidence and power. His designer suit was impeccable, and his presence commanded immediate attention. The crowd murmured among themselves, the whispers full of admiration and envy.

Clinton approached Mr. and Mrs. Jones straight and gave them a chic black envelope while flashing a dashing smile. "Congratulations on your 20th anniversary, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Inside this envelope is a $8 million gift, a small token of my admiration for you both."

The room gasped, and the Joneses beamed with delight. Clinton wasn’t finished, though. "And," he continued, his voice becoming more serious, "if Amaya becomes my wife, I promise to ensure that the contract your company has been vying for is yours."

The offer hung in the air like a tempting prize, and Mr. and Mrs. Jones' eyes glowed with greed. Clinton gave a final nod and left the room, his departure leaving an air of expectation behind.

Mrs. Jones turned back to Rowland, her eyes narrowing with renewed venom. “You heard him. You are a fool for turning down my offer. You have now lost both the money and any respect you once had. Guards, get him out!"

The guards moved forward without hesitation, roughly grabbing Rowland by the arms. Amaya, her face pale with distress, tried to intervene. "Please, mother, do not do this!"

Mrs. Jones spoke in a stern and frigid manner. “Amaya, if you interfere, I’ll cut you off completely. Do you want to be poor like your husband? Do you?”

Amaya froze, torn between her love for Rowland and the fear of losing everything. The guards dragged Rowland away, ignoring his protests.

***

Rowland was cast aside from the occasion and stood in the shadows, feeling hopeless and humiliated. There was nowhere else for him to go, so he headed to the hospital where Mrs. Patricia was struggling to survive.

Fear filled his mind as soon as he arrived at the doctor's office. But the moment he entered, the doctor looked up with a calm smile. 

“Mr. Rowland, there’s no need to worry. The payment for Mrs. Patricia’s surgery has already been made.”

Rowland blinked his eyes in confusion. “What? By whom?”

The doctor checked his notes and replied, “It was paid by someone who referred to you as ‘master.’”

Rowland’s eyes widened in shock. Who could it be? Who would refer to him as ‘master’?