Claim by the Don

Ava's POV

"Ava," Tricia yells from the living room for the twentieth time.

Tricia is my roommate and best friend. We met during our first week of resumption. I needed a roommate, so she offered I stay with her even though she wasn't looking for one.

Mom must have liked Tricia at first sight because she agreed without hesitation, saying for a young girl to live alone is very dangerous. My mom can be extremely protective when it comes to her kids, but let's face it, which mother won't turn into a tigress when it comes to her kids?

So I don't blame her for being overprotective, even though it drives me crazy at times.

For the past four months, I've been living with this wild wolf. Shhh, don't tell her I say that, or I'm dead meat.

Tricia can be sweet and caring when she wants to be. She has a heart of gold, the best roommate I could ever ask for. But sometimes her big sister mode kicks in and she becomes wild. But I love her.

"What?" I asked innocently. I can practically see her rolling her eyes at my act of pretense.

Ok, maybe I wasn't all innocent, but a girl needs her bubble bath.

"You've been in there all morning and you're asking me what?" she said in disbelief. "If you waste one more minute in there, I swear to God I'll drag you out by your hair," she growled through gritted teeth. I almost laughed out loud—remember, keyword almost. I do not want to be Tricia's prey. You've got to see her angry, and I bet you it's not pretty.

She's always like this, waking up last and having me take a quick shower, but not today. Today is the perfect day to have my revenge and make up for all those quick showers she made me have.

Let me tell you, revenge is sweet.

Tricia has a very important test, so that explains why she is extra pissed.

I came out of the bathroom fully dressed in a peach-colored sundress that stopped at my knees, with a tiny black belt, silver stud earrings to compliment the dress, and black sandals with tiny pearls designing them.

I cat-walked out of the bathroom, flicking my strawberry blonde hair off my shoulder just to annoy Tricia more.

And boy, does she look mad.

If looks could kill, I would be six feet under the ground by now.

"Bitch." She hissed, glaring daggers at me, then pushed past me to the bathroom.

"But you love me," I yelled over my shoulder to her.

"You should be glad I do. Otherwise, I would've strangled you by now." She threw one last glare my way before slamming the door shut in my face.

If she wants so badly to get ready on time, she should at least be up early.

Not even twenty minutes later, she was out of the bathroom like a breeze. I bet she didn't bathe well.

"Let's go," she mumbled, and I quietly followed her to her car. We got in and drove off above the speed limit.

Tricia dropped me off by my department block before speeding off to her law faculty.

My guess is she wants to get the test over with.

Turning to enter my first class, Economics, my other friend, Nathan—but we call him Nate—greeted me with a warm hug. No strings attached, thank you very much.

He's gay.

"Oh, my Ava, look how pale you are. What has that bitch of a roommate done to you?" Nate exclaimed dramatically, looking all serious, but I could see the fake seriousness. He was just kidding around.

"You don't want her hearing what you've just said now, do you?" I warned, a smirk tugging on my lips as I shook my head.

Tricia will no doubt castrate him, that's for sure. Not that they don't get along with each other. That's their way of playing, though I sometimes don't understand them until I realize they are playing.

"Like she could do a thing." Nate scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Really, Nate?" I threatened, giving him the don't test me look.

"Oh, of course not. I love my balls where they are." He laughed, throwing his head back. We took our seats as our professor, Mr. While, entered, and the lecture began.

************************************

I smiled as I stared at the bold letters written 'MOM.' It's been a while since we last talked, especially with Dad's constant drinking.

"Hello, baby girl." Mom's tender voice came from the other side of the phone. How I'd missed hearing this voice.

"Mom," I chirped excitedly.

"How are you doing over there? Hope you don't lack any school or food supplies."

"I'm fine, Mom," I replied and heard her sigh in relief.

"How are you guys?" I asked back.

"We are fine, darling."

"And Dad?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer to that.

"That's nothing to worry about, dear. You just focus on your studies," she reassured, but who am I kidding?

If I were to believe that everything is fine with Dad around, then I had another thing coming.

My dad wasn't always this way. When I was a kid, he was sweet, caring, and a loving father to us. He was the type of dad every kid could ask for, but everything changed when his business went bankrupt and he had to let it go to those who invested in it.

He was devastated, and he resorted to drinking for comfort, but drinking didn't help solve his problems. It only increased them. It made him miserable and turned him into an alcoholic.

"Ok," I decided not to press it further.

"Ava, my dear, please be careful with the people you interact with. There are always bad guys lurking around." She sounded worried.

A frown crept its way to my face. Yes, there are bad guys around. But Mom using my name in a warning means something isn't right, and why do I feel it in the back of my head that something is wrong?

"Ok, Mom, I promise. Can we talk later?" I said, ending the conversation.

"Alright, dear." The line went dead.

Now I'm restless and curious. What exactly is wrong? Is Dad giving them a hard time? Or did he cause some sort of trouble?

I'm going home this weekend, no doubt about it.

"What happened? You look stressed out." Tricia's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She walked out of the changing room in the coffee shop where we both work.

Not that Tricia needed the job or the money. Well, basically because her parents are quite rich and her boyfriend is well loaded. She even offered to give me her paycheck every month, but I kindly refused. I can't just take the money she works hard for. I would be best described as a desperate, greedy bitch if I did.

Like, who the hell does that?

"Well?" I told her about my conversation with Mom and emphasized the dangerous people as well.

"I think she's just looking out for you," Tricia said thoughtfully. I already knew that. Which mother doesn't look out for their kids? But there was also a hint of fear in her voice.

Mom has never spoken like this, even when Dad started his mental abuse. Her voice has always been firm. And hearing her talk this way only means there's trouble in paradise.

"No, Tricia, something is up." I broke the silence that had stretched between us.

Tricia fixed her gaze on me as if searching for something.

"If that's what you think, then you are going home this weekend," Tricia said in an end-of-discussion tone, and I couldn't agree more with her. If we were in another situation, I would have argued with her for using that tone on me, but not this time.

We both walked out to the counter.

"Ava, please go attend to table six," Mason, the guy behind the counter, said with sweat running down his forehead, quavering lips, and trembling fingers, then returned to what he was doing or pretending to be doing.

A frown spread on my face, confused as to why he was shaking. Is he cold or something? I turned away to go find table six. But the tension in the air was like a knife cutting through your skin.

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE?

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