ONE NIGHT IN THE CABIN HOUSE (Completed and NOW Edited!!...)

14

West Bandoos, 1662

The party was hosted at a luxurious resort, organized by the Dilindo Group of Companies, where Fernando held the upper hand. The event sparkled with wealth--his relatives, each owning a share in the company, mingled beneath elegant chandeliers. Marylou stood at the edge of the garden, her eyes drifting to the shimmering pool. Its bright blue waters called to her, offering a fleeting escape from the polished grandeur around her. She had accepted Fernando's proposal only the day after he visited her home, and she remembered how excited he had been.

Money, it seemed, could indeed secure anything.

Before her father died, he had been content. She was thankful he had passed without sorrow, knowing Fernando had kept his promise and built a beautiful cottage for him. The memory of his last moments flashed through her mind. Three years ago, she and her sister had held their father's hand as he lay in the hospital. His voice was a mere whisper, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. Despite the pain of leaving his daughters behind, he took solace in Fernando's vow-that they would want for nothing. With a final kiss on their hands, he had passed, leaving them in tears.

Marylou's gaze dropped to her feet, her shoes catching the light with their delicate ornaments. She took a sip of her wine, savoring the rich taste. The privileges of the wealthy, she thought bitterly. Her thoughts were interrupted when Fernando appeared beside her. "I want you to meet my relatives," he said. "They didn't attend our wedding because they live far away." Marylou knew better. It wasn't the distance that kept them from the wedding; it was her status. She was the daughter of a poor farmer, and they didn't think she belonged in their world.

"They came for the party, though. How convenient," she muttered under her breath. Fernando said nothing.

As they approached the group, dressed in expensive clothes and adorned with jewels, one of the men spotted them.

"Fernando!" he called, spreading his arms wide for a hug.

"Meet my wife, Marylou Bellamy, Fernando introduced her proudly.

The man barely acknowledged her, immediately turning the conversation back to business. "Have you spoken to the CEO of Billingsgate? He wants a meeting with the board."

Marylou, feeling invisible, forced a smile. "Hello, l'm Marylou, nice to meet you too, she said, but the man's eyes flicked dismissively over her.

A petite woman with sunburnt skin and crimson hair waved from across the group. "You look stunning! What's your secret?" she asked, trying to approach Marylou. But a tall, statuesque woman by her side held her back, glaring at Marylou with a mixture of disdain and jealousy.

"An exquisite necklace from Ritz Bejewel," the tall woman remarked, her gaze locked on Marylou's neck. "I doubt you could afford something like that on your own. It must be nice to marry into wealth and never have to lift a finger."

Marylou smiled coldly. "Yes, it is a privilege," she replied. "And I don't just own this necklace. I own everything my husband owns-the estate, the wine bar, the company. It's all mine. The woman's surprise was evident. She hadn't expected Marylou to assert herself like that. Huffing, she turned away.

"Why did you say that?" Fernando whispered. He knew his wife wouldn't tolerate insults, especially from his rude family. She was strong-willed, and he respected that, even if it caused trouble.

"You heard how she spoke to me. I'm your wife--you should defend me," Marylou snapped, her voice louder than she intended. She shot a sharp glare at the judgmental eyes watching her before storming off.

"The nerve," someone muttered behind her. "You should divorce her. Don't worry about your property-my influence will ensure she gets nothing."

Marylou kept walking, her fists clenched as she headed for the restroom. Once inside, she splashed water on her face, watching her mascara run in the wide mirror. She blinked back tears, trying to calm herself.