Mr. Garcia’s POV
Ever since I sold off my baby girl, my little Ava, I had never been able to snooze peacefully at night, without seeing my beautiful wife’s face in my dreams. She kept haunting me. Oh my goodness! I was fed up. I couldn’t feed her anymore.
Yes, I despised her. I detested that brat, but on the other hand, she had always been a good daughter to me. She never once resented me for how I treated her, how I whacked, pulled, and abused her with various horrible names. She never insulted or smirked back at me.
Ava did a lot of odd jobs to help put food on my table. She worked all hours of the day and night to pay off my gambling debts. My little girl barely lay down to sleep and slept peacefully at night. She was always working her ass off. However, I wasn’t guilty. Everything I did to her caused it. She deserved every pain I inflicted on her.
She was a bastard child who killed off my lovely wife. The little orphan girl who was picked up in the street ended up snatching her life away. Her parents abandoned her when she was very young.
It was a rainy day when my wife and I were driving home from a relative’s house when we heard the cry of an infant. I wanted to ride past the baby because I wasn’t interested in raising an unidentified child, but my wife urged me to stop. I stopped the car as she had instructed.
Patricia hopped out of the car. She started walking towards where the baby was lying. She was crying her tiny lungs out. I loathed it.
Patricia picked up the little one, who immediately stopped crying. She gave her a warm smile. We had just gone to the hospital on medication because we were unable to bear our own child.
She smiled as she held the baby in her arms. “Oh my goodness! She’s a cute baby,” she said. “Come see her, William.”
I was annoyed and refused to respond to her.
“William,” she called again.
“Yes, love,” I responded, trying to conceal my displeased face.
“Can we raise her? I want to educate her as if she were my baby.”
“Stop! Patricia, could you please let us leave now? Drop the baby. Someone else will adopt her,” I said.
“No! I’ll never return my child,” she insisted.
“Are you out of your mind? When did this stray bastard become yours?”
She was too busy playing with the baby’s hand to notice me. She was kissing and laughing with her, already abandoning me.
“Patricia, I’m asking you!” I yelled at her.
“Please, Will! I want to keep the baby. I want to raise her as my own,” she said, tearing up.
Her tears hit a tender spot in me. “My love, could you please stop crying? I’m sorry for yelling at you. Do you want to educate her as your child?” I asked her.
“Yes, I want to raise her. Not just my baby, but our baby. I want her to be our child, our very own daughter,” she said happily, flashing her pearly whites.
“Our child?” I scowled. “Patricia, I don’t want her as my child. You want her. You want to raise her, but I don’t want to. I’m not interested in raising that awful looking unknown child as my daughter. Please! I beg of you! Stop this madness.”
She was starting to frustrate me all because of that child. She was now disobeying me.
“Why? Why are you refusing to accept her as your child? What did the innocent child do to you? Why do you abhor her for no reason? Will, she’s just a child!” she cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Fine, I give up. You win, and I lose. We can keep the baby and raise her as our daughter,” I agreed by nodding.
“Really?” she asked, dabbing her tears away.
“Yes, amor,” I confirmed. “Let’s raise her as ours if that will make you happy.”
“Thank you, sweet hubby! You’re the best!”
My wife lavished the baby with all the love I deserved. She gave her the name Ava, which means “life.” I endured the little Ava, showering her with fake love to make Patricia happy because her daughter was the only reason she lived. She was her life and everything to her.
Yet, in the end, she was slain by her. She withered and died while trying to save her. I despised her existence. I despised her in every way. Selling her and not slaughtering her was my mercy to her, even though she deserved to die in a horrible and millions of ways at my hands.
Damn! I hated her so much. I hoped and prayed she wasn’t having an easy life with her master.
***
Mr. Drake’s POV
I was missing her. I was missing my little slave, Ava. I was missing everything about her. Her tears, her sobs, her frail voice when she begged me. But it was her little tight hole that I was missing the most.
I wasn’t careful enough, so I didn’t realize I had a spy among my guards. Fred was my favorite and most trusted guard. I had always been nice to him. I made him the head of my guards, and yet he chose to betray me because of his love for money.
If I was told he was the betrayer I’d been searching for, I would have killed the informant because I wouldn’t have believed them. I trusted Fred a lot until I overheard him on the phone with Mr. David, who told him he was also interested in Ava.
How could a mere slave get his hands on his master’s property? I was hurt. My most trusted guard chose Mr. David over me, so I had no choice but to exterminate him. Anyone who stood in my way with Ava, I would kill them all. Ava was mine and mine alone, and I guess it was time for me to go rescue her from that old rag.
Six months had passed since he fiercely and forcibly took her away from me, and I hoped Mr. David wouldn’t be interested in fucking her real cunt. I hoped he was like me and enjoyed fucking her asshole.
I liked Ava. She was an innocent and pure girl, and I was considering promoting and making her from a mere slave to my mistress, but all of my plans for her were ruined because of Fred and that old stupid David.
Ever since he separated my favorite slave from me, I had been sad. Why must he do such a thing to me? He was abusing his power and influence over me.
I wanted to clench my fist and rip his head from his body with my pistol. I wished I was stronger than he was. I wished I had more power than him so that he couldn’t cheat on me and bring me down.
This was excruciating. I must rescue my little slave. I must do whatever it takes to get her back from that damned old rag. I missed everything about her. I missed my beautiful little slave.