Billionaire’s Abandoned Sex Slave

Ryan’s POV

“Mister?” The toddler called, swinging his legs.

I chuckled at his adorable antics and ruffled his soft hair once more.

“Yes,” I answered, smiling down at him.

“My name is Jerymee. What’s your name?” He asked, staring up at me.

“Oh. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you my name. My name is Ryan. It’s nice to meet you, Jeremy,” I stretched a hand to him.

He gazed down at my hand with confusion etched onto his adorable face before he understood, and took my hand in his tiny one.

Fuck, everything about this toddler was just so small and cute. He looked so fluffy and cuddly too but I didn’t want to act like a creep by randomly hugging him.

So I ignored the weird string drawing me to him.

“Your name sounds cool, Mister Lion. I want my name to be cool too,” He pouted sadly, which made me feel bad for having a “cool” name.

“I think your name is very cool, Jeremy. Mine is boring as fuck,” I said, trying to console him.

I was perplexed when he started giggling, “You said a bad word, Mister. Mummy puted money in the jar when she says that, and she telled me it’s not good to say things like that,” He lectured, with a serious expression.

I became flustered with embarrassment as I stared at the toddler. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel taking manners lessons from a toddler.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry I swore. I won’t do it again. Thanks for teaching me not to,” I stuttered.

“Pinky promise?” He stretched his cute pinky, to which I grinned before interlocking our pinkies.

“Pinky promise,”

“Jeremy, how old are you?” I asked him after I released his pinky.

He hummed, stroking his thumb under his chin before he lit up, “I’m thwee,” He yelled, raising two fingers.

“Wow, you are such a big boy,” I gasped theatrically.

“Yes, mummy tells me every day. How old are you, mister? You look very bigger than me,” He stated.

“I’m thirty,” I said, with a smile.

“Mister is so old. Your age is a big number,” He chuckled to himself, and shook his head.

Ouch, that hurt my feelings.

“Old? I’m not old. You are old,” I retorted, returning his chuckle.

“Jerymee is not old. I’m thwee. I’m my mommy’s baby,” He argued, with an undertone of sass that reminded me of a certain female brunette.

“Okay, I’m old. I agree. Are you hungry yet, Jeremy? Your mum doesn’t seem to be coming yet,” I said, and I immediately regretted uttering those words when his lips wobbled, and his eyes got misty.

“I want my mummy. Take me to my mummy, mister. She tell me she will get ice cream and I should stay but she not coming back,” He rambled, with tears rolling down his little face, causing my heart to clench with guilt.

Fuck, why did my big mouth have to comment on his mum?

“Alright, champ. Let’s go get ice cream before going to meet your mummy. In that way, you will have two ice creams and your mummy will have just one,” I suggested, trying to lift his dampened spirits, and to my utter relief, it worked.

His face illuminated with excitement as he clapped happily, “Okay, let’s go,”

As I was about to get up and help him down from the bench, he suddenly said, “Wait, my mummy telled me not to collect gifts from staingrass,”

“Huh?” I asked, befuddled.

“I don’t know you and my mummy doesn’t knowed you too. You are a staingrass,” He muttered.

I scratched my nape awkwardly, trying to understand what a “staingrass” was before it dawned on me.

Oh, he meant a stranger.

“Oh my goodness. You’re such a character,” I laughed which made him smile back.

“I am? What’s that?” He asked.

“It means you’re a funny kid,” I replied, causing him to ooh at me.

“I like it. I like you, mister. I’ll go with you to get ice cream but when you see my mummy, you have to hide, okay? I don’t want her to know I talked with a staingrass,” He muttered.

I bit back the urge to chuckle at his solution, and nodded, “Okay, Jeremy. Let’s go,”

I got up and eased him down from the bench before I sidled with him to the ice cream stand.

What he did next warmed my heart, he held onto my fingers, and I felt mushy inside.

Fuck, what was I turning into? How did I go from being a cruel person to being whipped for a cute toddler? I asked myself as we sighted the ice cream bar.

“I wish I had a daddy like you,” Jeremy whispered after a while, causing me to abruptly halt in my steps.

“You don’t have a dad?” I asked.

He looked forlorn as his shoulders slumped. Just as he was about to talk, someone caught his attention and his eyes shone with delight.

“Mommy!” He yelled, releasing his hand from my hold and sprinting towards the person.

I couldn’t get a proper vision of the person from afar as the person crouched, and hugged Jeremy.

+++

Ophelia’s POV

“Mummy!” When I heard his voice, I gasped and spun around.

Tears of relief trickled down my face as he ran toward me with a wide grin, I crouched down with my arms stretched to catch him.

When he slipped into my arms, I enclosed him in a tight hug, “Where were you?” I whispered, sniffing his hair to calm myself, sighing in bliss as the gentle scent of his baby shampoo wafted into my nostrils.

“I stayed with a staingrass. He’s nice and hamsome,” He beamed after we disengaged from the hug.

I rubbed his cheek, and wiped my tears off, “Don’t do that again, okay? You made me scared. I was so worried, and I even cried,”

“Sorry, mummy. I won’t leave your side anymore,” He pouted, which made me sigh.

“Thank you,” I muttered, and got up.

“Let’s go thank this stranger. Where is he?” I asked, entwining our hands together.

“He’s there,” Jeremy gestured frontward.

“Okay. Take me to him,” I said, to which he nodded, and I allowed him to lead me to the kind stranger.

My eyes gaped in disbelief as various unbridled emotions simmered inside me, with the most prominent one being anger when I saw him in flesh and blood.

The heartless bastard. The man who took my dignity and broke me most mercilessly; Ryan Torres.

My anger intensified when he waved cheerfully at Jeremy. He averted his gaze to me, his smile dropped, and his eyes doubled in shock before an emotion akin to guilt crossed his eyes.

“Is he the kind stranger?” I croaked, staring down at Jeremy.

“Yes, mummy,” Jeremy replied.

The fucking nerve of this monster. I seethed inwardly.

I locked my jaw in fury as he walked up to us. I glared murderously at him, a silent command for him to back off.

“Ophelia?” He uttered, in a tone set in between a question and a statement.

“Why are you here?” I whispered, bunching my hands into fists.