Scold Bridle

Ethan Walker, the complete definition of rude, arrogant and dangerously handsome. He listens to no one, and does things his way, the first and only son to Alex and Sage Walker, he's a spoilt rich brat. If there's anything about Ethan is that he hates sharing, no matter how minute it is, once it's his then he would rather hell freeze over than share it. But that changes when he is forced to share his parents love and attention with a strange girl. At 7 he already disliked this girl that stole his parents love and attention from him. And he vowed he would make her life a living hell. But is that the only reason he dislikes her? Ava Walker, the adopted daughter of Alex and Sage Walker, after trying for years to conceive after their first child with no luck, they opt in for adoption and they chose her. Shy, naive, beautiful and smart, Ava is forced to take the harsh and cruel words of her foster brother all the while making sure his parents don't find out because she'd hate to be the reason his parents scold him. Hurt by the fact that Ethan will never agree to calling her his sister or accepting her into the family, she is faced with a bigger challenge when things get complicated between them. Now one question keeps ringing in her head. Does Ethan really hate her? It's going to be a long ride for Ethan and Ava. Story contains explicit sexual content and a lot of smut

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."

I'm Cassandra Rivera. I'm eighteen years old and in my first year at University, taking up Fine Arts. My life has been hell since I was young. My parents, sister, and brother treated me as their slave. They beat me if I did wrong. I started working for my family when I was six years old, and if I did wrong, my parents would scold and beat me. When I was younger, I wondered why my family treated me this way, but when I was ten years old, my mother got angry at me and she told me that I was an unwanted child. She wanted to abort me when I was still in her womb, but I kept holding on. They don't like me out of this world, and since then, I didn't see them as my family but as my employer like how they treated me as their maid. Luckily, there's a helper at home who cares for me, and I saw her as my second mother. She would tend my cuts and bruises every time my family beat me. Sometimes, my father punished her because of me. I love Mama Amara, because she's the only person who cares for me, and love me. When I enter the university, I meet this guy. His name is Jaxon Garcia. He's from a wealthy family. He's good to me, and when he told me his feelings, I quickly accepted it. We were happy for a few months, but I found out he only courted me because of a bet with my brother Kris. I was devastated, and for the first time, I wanted the comfort of my father. But my father did the worst. He used me as collateral for his debt to the wealthiest man in the country.