Maltreated

“Get your ass off there!” My mother-in-law screamed. And from her tone, it wasn’t so hard to sense another problem was brewing up.

I looked up and observed the hills, listening to the sound of trees as their leaves sway happily in the wind. I love the sense of peace it brings to my troubled and haunted soul.

But unfortunately, this isn’t the time for peace. My attention was suddenly drawn back to my wife, who was smoking from a stick of cigarettes. Her head was thrown back as she puffed out thick, dark smokes through her mouth and nostrils.

“Have you washed the car, dumb head?” My mother-in-law barked at me, her voice sharp with impatience.

I felt a pond forming in the pit of my stomach immediately she called me a dumb head, and I knew I was getting angry because I don’t like being called a dumb head.

But there’s nothing I could do about it. It’s a nickname she’s chose for me, and it’ll stick with me until my death… After all, I’m an eyesore to everyone in this family.

“I asked you a question!” she barked again, which made me flinch back a bit.

“I’ll do it later, ma’am” I answered, then let my explanation follow immediately. “I’m really exhausted right now and…,”

My words were cut short when I felt a very sharp sting on my left cheek, and I almost lost my balance, but held myself in reflex. My mother-in-law has just landed a resounding slap on my cheek.

My so-called wife snickered at my misfortune as she found it funny. I couldn’t help but feel trapped in this uncomfortable situation with my aggressive and demanding in-laws.

Each interaction reminded me of the fact that I had married into a family that would never fully accept me.

I am Stephen Cole, son-in-law to the Owen family, the third-richest family in Los Vegas. I’m married to their only daughter, who happens to be extremely spoiled. Our relationship is more of a business transaction, with no romance of any sort, it’s purely a business relationship.

Before marriage, I worked as a cab driver for company, but my salary wasn’t enough to cover my tuition fees. I was at the verge of giving up, but this proposal that could pay my tuition fees landed on me.

It was a two-year marriage contract, which I was thrilled to sign. I thought everything’s going to be alright the moment I signed the contract, but little did I know I was signing my death certificate.

What started as a two-year contract has been repeatedly extended, and now, I am tired of it all.

Unfortunately, walking away from this contract marriage is not an option, I’m too deep into this. We’ve been married for five years now, and they have been nothing but hell for me.

“Pardon him for today, Mum” my wife finally said something. “He is going out with me later, and it will not be nice if your son-in-law goes to an important meeting with a bruise on his face.”

Anyone who heard would think she’s saying this because she’s trying to protect me from her mother, but that’s not the case at all. If I wasn’t going out with her, she’d sit back and watch her mother abuse me.

She got up and approached me, then placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it as hard as she could. It hurts.

“You should go dress up,” she said.

I wanted to remind her that I had a class today, but a deadly glare from her was enough to silent me.

Rushing inside the room, I dashed into my bathroom to take my bath. But the moment I entered the bath tub, memories came crashing into my head and I couldn’t stop them.

>>Flashback – Five years ago<<

“Meet me in the office” Ms Thompson says, immediately I parked the car in the garage.

As I walked into my boss’s office, I sensed that something was off. Ms. Thompson had never asked to meet privately with me in her office, and her usually calm and collected demeanor seemed a bit more tense than usual.

I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Have I done something wrong? Or did a customer complain about me? I hope I’m not losing my job for any reason.

“Stephen, I have a proposition for you,” she said, looking directly at me.

A proposition? Whoa, this doesn’t seem like what I was expecting.

“Our company recently acquired a contract that requires a representative to be married –”

My brows furrowed, but she spoke before I could voice out my concern.

“ — temporarily, of course”

I breathed in relief, but gave her a questioning look, indirectly telling her to continue.

“It’s going to be a temporary marriage to one of our clients, and after so much deliberation, we’ve come to the conclusion that you’re the perfect candidate for this role.” I blinked in disbelief.

Alright, what the f**k? Honestly, this was not a conversation I anticipated having with Ms Thompson when I walked into this office.

“What does it entail?” I asked, trying to keep my face neutral.

“It would be a simple contract of marriage – lasting two years at most. The compensation would be substantial, and it would be an invaluable experience for your career,” she explained. “Of course, it’s completely up to you if you want to do it.” She added, making the sound as though I have a choice here when I obviously don’t.

They’ve already made their decision, and my whole life depends on this job. And even though she doesn’t want to say it, I know I only have two options here; either I accept this offer or resign from the job…which is very difficult for me.

I took a deep breath and considered it for a moment. Since this is a contract of marriage which will be valid for two years, I believe the rewards would be significant… After all, I need all the money I can get at this point of my life.

“I’ll do it,” I said, decisively.

>>End Of Flashback – Back To Present Day<<

I wish I didn’t sign the contract back then. It would have been better if I had resigned back then, then I wouldn’t be facing all these humiliations today.

As I put on my outfit for the business party, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about getting the dress code right. I knew that appearances mattered in the business world, and I wanted to make sure that I looked professional and polished.

I had opted for a navy-blue suit with a slim cut, a crisp white button-up shirt, and a black silk tie. The suit fit me perfectly – not too tight or too loose – and the fabric had a slight sheen that gave it a touch of sophistication.

I completed the look with a pair of black dress shoes and a matching leather belt, both recently polished to a high shine. I took a final glance in the mirror, smoothing down any stray hairs or wrinkles, and deemed myself ready to go.

The door suddenly flung open, and my so-called wife walked in with a creepy, sly, smirk dancing on her lips.

“Is this all you have?” She asked, checking me out with a criticizing gaze.

“I look good, don’t I?” I asked, with a hint of pride in my voice.

But just as I do, a swift knock landed on my head, causing me to wince.

“You don’t talk when I’m talking, don’t get me angry, Stephen,” she warns, handing over her purse to me.

Despite her admonishment, I couldn’t help but take a moment to admire her dress. It’s clear that my wife spared no expense when it came to her wardrobe, the dress is a statement piece that screams wealth and refinement.

“You managed to look good today,” she concedes. “I guess you’re finally learning after five years.” I feel a small sense of pride in her words.

She sounded as proud as a teacher whose student won a scholarship.

“You should learn how to compliment my look,” she chides me. “And what’s with that look on your face? Aren’t you happy to go out with me?”

“You look good,” I answered, trying to sound sincere as I could because she was honestly looking good.

Thankfully, she nods her head in approval, and we made our way out of the room.

•••

Stepping out of the room, Ms. Clinton, my mother-in-law, burst into a fit of laughter, the moment she saw me and not even trying to hide the fact that she’s actually laughing at me.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration and embarrassment, it seemed as though she loved to mock and belittle me at any and every given opportunity.

“What’s so funny?” Susan asked, sensing that something was amiss, but her mother simply shook her head and continued laughing.

“Listen.” Mr. Clinton cut in, his stern tone immediately setting me on edge.

He was a man I feared greatly, a powerful and influential figure in the business world.

“Marriage isn’t just about wearing matching outfits and going out together,” he spoke, his gaze piercing through me. “When are you two going to produce me an heir? Or did you think I was going to hand over my company to you?” His words were harsh, but unfortunately, they held a grain of truth.

It was clear that to him, Susan’s marriage to me was simply a matter of business, securing the future of his company through a suitable heir.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, to avoid giving away my inner turmoil. But I couldn’t help but feel a surge of anger and helplessness, was that all that mattered to them? My worth as a person reduced to that of a mere breeder?