Her Worn-out Gown

Yvanna's POV

It has been an hour and a half, if am not mistaken, since I keep looking at my clouded reflection on the sliding glass window in front of me, trying to keep up with my overwhelming excitement and nervousness that linger in the air at the same time.

Several thoughts, wonderful ones, keep running wild inside my brain when tonight, my mother-in-law, surprisingly throws a small banquet to introduce me to her wealthy friends who missed my husband's extravagant 32nd birthday celebration two days ago.

And I am, undeniably, in 7th heaven every time I glimpse at those visitors passing through behind the window. This is going to be the first time in history that Mauricia, my mother-in-law, has given recognition to my hard-earned suffering in their hands for the past seven years.

Even if surrounding myself with her "so-called" circle of friends and closest family relatives is not my cup of tea, she left me with no other choice when Norman, my good-looking and considerate husband, brought me a gorgeous and expensive limited-edition evening gown to wear intended for this certain event.

"You better take off that gown from that disgusting skin of yours, you whore! The audacity to show off outside like one of us. Be ashamed of yourself for wearing an expensive one when your life's worth was not even close to a cent, Yvanna." Jennie, along with her twin sister, Jennifer, appears in my room, shattering my profound silence.

I quickly turn around, a menacing look apparent all over my face while standing up to them. My skin decolorizes in the blink of an eye in trepidation. Apart from my father and mother-in-law who were born ruthless, cold-hearted, and manipulative toward me, the twins are the worst.

Both of them examine me from head to toe with their eyes sharply backstabbing and the tip of their brows bent upward like they always do every time they catch a glimpse of me anywhere in this humongous mansion.

Though knowing them treating me like that is already my daily kind of routine while living in the mansion, the weirdness of the sensation still shivers down my spine, like there's a pang of pain from a cane of rose full of thorns stuck in my throat, giving me inexplicable goosebumps.

Jennifer then drops a piece of white garment to the floor. "You look better with that housemaid's uniform, Yvanna. We are short in manpower out there," she declares, maintaining her stiff glance at me. "Better stop dreaming our Mom would introduce you to her friends because that's not gonna happen. Dream on, my dear!"

"You and your poor family don't even have the luxury to dream, bitch." Jennie added, her voice thundering all over the room, "Dreams are for wealthy people like us. And you're like..." She cuts off her words as if she is in the middle of collecting the conclusive words to define it, "... a rusty and dirty scrap in our lives. Better put that on. We need you to be one of the servers, quick!"

I clench my fist, my heart burning in rage. They can degrade and insult me all they want, I can handle the discomfort, but involving my family members was one hell of a story. Our family may be inferior to them but we never stepped on someone.

Degrading and insulting them is something I can never accept. As far as my brain serves me right, we never ask even a cent from them. Every cent that I got from the family, I achieved them through sweat and blood.

My bare foot has walked a long road burning with fire to earn that single cent. It's just they were sensitively allergic to my existence as though I am some kind of a contagious disease.

"But it was Norman who asked me to wear this for the banquet." I mustered the courage to play against them. They can humiliate or insult me at any time and anywhere, but not today.

I am attending the banquet on behalf of my husband, Norman Paul dela Vega, who is still in the middle of his mayoral election campaign along with his lineups.

He barely comes home. And every time that day comes, he is too weary. As a result, we barely had the chance to talk heart-to-heart, as married couples, like everyone usually does.

However, I kept everything from him - my side of the truth. Those penetrating abuses that I endured from his family members who see me as nothing but a scrap. He was too focused on providing food and safety to the family since his grandfather died and left him his multi-billion empire.

Recently, he was even busier when he decided to run for election. Though he already had an awesome life as a billionaire heir, Norman still craves something bigger. Something better.

And who am I not to give him my full support, huh? He's my husband even if people treat me like am not. I vowed to him that I was gonna love him for the rest of my life, in sickness and in health. I am a woman of my word.

"Don't tell me. You now have the guts to fight back, huh? Do you think our brother would take your side if we do something to you right now?" Jennie blurts, her voice began to get irritated so I step back, pinning myself against the wall behind me, scared that I might get a slap from her again.

"Listen carefully, you ungrateful brat. We're not in the mood to argue with you, Yvanna. Just like you, we were also dressed up. Can't you see?" Jennifer seconded, and her glance became more evil compared to her twin sister. The heavy sensation feels like she is about to swallow me whole. "Put that on and help the servers outside, NOW!"

The twin sisters are nothing inside behind those good-looking faces and fair skin but pure evil. Out of the seven years living with them in the mansion, I already lost count of how many times they slapped me in the face.

Jennifer, I remember, poured me a hot cup of coffee countless times apart from humiliating me in front of my husband, his friends, business partners, and even my own family.

The last thing I want to happen is to pour fuel into the burning fire, so I let it slide, and encourage myself that everything's going to be just fine. That they will accept me later on. All I have to do is get their good side.

Jennie, on the other hand, also did awful and unforgettable things to me. The sensation feels like yesterday when I was in the bathroom, she clasped my hair and sunk my head into a bucket full of water. My entire body was trembling in fear at that time.

Since then, I have experienced nightmares for about two months, thinking she might visit me in the room in the middle of my profound sleep, cover my face with pillows until I lose my last breath, or even stab me with a sharp knife straight into my chest.

Above all that, the twins keep on making false and damaging statements about me for one main reason - for me to break up and divorce my husband.

"You don't want to put that on?" she continued, her face reddened all over, and her veins started popping out of her neck. She glances at every corner of the room and grabs something from the closet before she slides closer.

To my surprise, she orders her twin sister to hold me still, and from there, she scissors my gown into pieces. She pushed and pulled me every time I attempted to escape. "Please, don't do this to me! I'm begging you!" My continuous pleading reverberates in every corner of the room.

But none of them hears me. They were confident enough that no one could hear me scream. And they were right about it. People are busy outside at the banquet.

"I already told you that we are not in the mood right now, but you won't listen, you daughter of a slave!" Jennie exclaims with her rage burning before her palm lands on my left cheek.

Then follows to the right side.

The sounds of her teeth being rubbed even reached my attention. Jennifer finally let go of her grip until nothing left of my body but being freely exposed.

Right after that, the image of the room starts to get dim. I sink to my knees on the tiled floor, my world crumbling around me while having a hard time breathing as I burst into tears looking at my once-ornate gown.

My continuous sobbing appeared to have been music to their ears, it filled their souls with those unwavering smiles. "What did I do to you, huh?" I asked despite the stuttering tone and hard time breathing. "Why are you all so mean to me? What did I do wrong?"

Jennifer slides closer and reaches out to my chin, she clasps it with force, and her nails almost penetrate my skin. "Coming into our lives was the one thing you did wrong, Yvanna. We've been living in this mansion in peace. And someone as disgusting and suffocating as you appeared out of the blue and married our brother. Don't you dare pretend you didn't know that?"

Her twin sister scoffs before she emits a bulk of her saliva to the tiled floor, "Wipe it off. That's how we recognize you - a S L A V E. That's fucking who you are, Yvanna." she added, "Even if our older brother was fool enough not see that you're a big SCAM, doesn't mean we didn't."

The sisters appear to have had enough of me when they slide back to the door. Jennifer heaves an abrupt sigh of dismay, her furious eyes still fixed on mine. "You better not ruin tonight's event, Yvanna," she said in a threatening tone. "Be grateful we slice your gown instead of your face."

"We'll give you ten minutes to sort things out, bitch!" Jennie suggests. "A second late would be like hell for you, do you understand? Mark my word."

As soon as the two disappear from my sight, I collect all the worn-out garments, trying to form them back into a gown. Tears keep pouring down my cheeks like an open faucet when every time I lift it, the garments slip off out of my hands.

My name is Yvanna Summer, turning twenty-eight in two months. I didn't get the chance to finish college because I got impregnated by my billionaire husband, Norman dela Vega.

At first, the entire family couldn't accept me because they believed that I seduced Norman to have sex with me and that getting pregnant was part of my evil plan.

They even accused me of having an affair with a lot of men. Norman, himself, knows that his cucumber was the first to divulge my well-hidden cave.

Luckily, after proving their baseless accusations with a DNA test result that our six-year-old son, Noah, was Norman's, they accepted me because my husband needed a son.

And my dear son is the main reason I have to screech in silence every time everyone in this family berated me. I endure the all pain, both physically and mentally, to make sure Noah will have the best future he could get from carrying his dad's name.

Leaving no choice, I wipe off the tears from my cheeks and put on the maiden's uniform. I didn't want to live my entire life like hell, so I agreed to obey their order as much as it pains me.

As soon as I reached the banquet, I was caught by surprise when hundreds, if not thousands, of visitors occupied their seats all over the place. Jennifer and Jennie were right about the need for more manpower.

So without asking myself further questions, I grab one of the kettles and help the servers to get my job done as soon as possible.

"Am I the only one who remembered that we met this woman at Norman's wedding?" The middle-aged woman seated next to my mother-in-law questions, her voice filled with conviction, and her sharp eyes pointed at me while serving their cups of tea.

She unhurriedly studies me from head to toe with an intriguing glance, I could tell, based on those long curved lines engraved on her forehead. Then she frowns, "I just couldn't remember what part of the program. Umm... Aren't you one of the servers at that time?"

"You think so?" The woman next to her debates. "I highly doubt it. I mean, isn't it ridiculous that as wealthy as the dela Vegas would hire one of their household maidens to the wedding?"

I ignore the subject discussed. Instead, I focus on pouring their empty cups of tea with hot water. My mother-in-law catches a glimpse at me, but she keeps her mouth shut as if she already knows about it.

"Enough of this nonsense, ladies and gentlemen, for the record and to clear all your assumptions, that woman is my son's disgusting and useless betrothed..."

My mother-in-law did not get the chance to finish her sentence when she departed from her seat and slapped me in the face without hesitation. Hard enough the golden metallic tea kettle, full of steaming water from my hands, fell onto the ground.

God as my witness, I didn't mean to do it, but I accidentally poured the water onto the table instead of her cup because I was taken aback by what she claimed about me.

All the guests nearby also move out of their seats, sharing the same expressions - stunned and dumbfounded. But none of them dared to help me because no one would dare get my mother-in-law's bad side. Even her own husband couldn't dare.