Arranged marriage with mr stranger

Ava's POV

"Still sleeping like an asshole?"

My eyes snapped open as I jumped out of bed when I heard her voice.

No matter how deeply I slept, I could never mistake Clara Wilson's voice. My stepmom. I wondered if I would ever be able to be at peace, as I was years back before she came in. It had barely been 4 hours of sleep and yet she was already screaming my name. I had been called all manner of names as I was old enough to understand the meaning of those names.

My exams were tomorrow and I wished to sit and read. Of course not. All I ever did was work, work, and work.

"Ava!" I heard her heavy stomps thundering up the stairs. She was already close.

She pushed the door and I could see her eyes were filled with rage. I faced her, bracing myself as she walked towards me, holding a broom.

"Good morning, mother," I said softly, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

"I have been calling you for five minutes, lazy bitch. What were you doing?" she yelled.

I bowed my head low, panting like a dog. My stepmother hated me so much. Since I lost my mother, my father brought the witch into our home. I managed to get admitted into the same school as my sister, Alison, because my father wanted me to go there with her. Still, I couldn't keep up. One day I am at school, the next I am scrubbing the floor.

Today was supposed to be my exams, but instead, I am dragged out of bed to begin chores that might leave me too drained or too late to attend school.

The Wilson family is well known across the city, but no one knew I existed. They only knew about Alison, the Wilsons' only daughter. Perfect in every way.

"Are you now deaf as well as stupid?" She continued, advancing closer. My heart skipped a bit because I knew the next thing I was expecting was a slap. Indeed, I was given a thunderous slap. I stumbled backward, dazed. It felt like being struck by lightning.

"Mom, what have I done this time?" I cried, but then it was no use.

"Are you talking back to me?" She snapped, as I moved backward.

First, just apologize. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"I am not your mother. How do I keep saying that?" She had said that countless times, but then I kept making that mistake.

"I'm sorry ma'am," I apologized again. "I had a lot of chores last night and couldn't sleep early. I am sorry ma'am."

As I stood there, she clicked her tongue at me, getting impatient. "That explanation wasn't valid, I know you go around telling people I give you too many chores. I want to see you downstairs in five minutes."

I dashed into the small adjoined bathroom, changing in minutes, changing in record speed.

I got down in five minutes, as she ordered.