ARELLA (A Mafia Story)

Twenty-Five

My child has stolen not only my husband, my sons, but my dog too. I'm just the person with the boobs she eats from. Speaking of boobs, Arella taps on Damon's peck with her tiny hand, looking up at him in question.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, princess. I do not have milk in there. That's Mama's thing. Do you want some milk?"

I'm trying to get Arella only nursing at night. She's not having any of that. Every since she's got it from the source, she has little to no interest in bottles or sippy cups.

Damon passes her over to me and I head downstairs, man and dog following behind me. Arella knows what's going on as soon as I approach the fridge. She rapidly shakes her head and slaps her hand down on my breast.

"Can you have your milk out of a sippy or baba today?" I ask, brushing her dark brown hair away from her face.

Another head shake in answer.

"How about you come snuggle with Mama in my room? You can have some milk then if you lay down." I negotiate.

Everybody says you shouldn't negotiate with terrorists. It should really be you don't negotiate with your toddler. They take an inch and run a mile. I'm probably going to regret this. She'll want to nurse everyday before nap now.

But she needs some rest and this is the only way I can get her to go to sleep.

Finally, I get a nod from her. Plan set in motion, I head upstairs and to my room. Damon follows me like a lost puppy. Cerberus isn't even this bad. He doesn't want my attention, just Arella's.

"When are you going to let me get a price of that ass?" Damon whispers in my ear after I set Arella down on the bed.

All he can think about is sex when he should be thinking about healing and taking his antibiotics. Once again, the man's thinking with the wrong head.

"When you can move without grimacing and you don't have staples holding your chest together. Remember what the doctor said? No strenuous activity. You shouldn't even be carrying around Arella and look how well that's going."

He grumbles, walking into the bathroom. Damon can be upset all he wants. I don't really care. I would rather he finish with his hand than injure himself more while thrusting.

Arella makes a sound of impatience from her spot on the bed, wiggling her nubby against our sheets. Smiling down at her, I pull of my shirt and climb into bed.

My baby girl wastes no time in crawling towards me and latching on. I scratch her head while she nurses, knowing it relaxes her enough to fall asleep. She's a sucker for head scratches just like her mama.

"Is she asleep yet?" Damon asks after coming out of the bathroom.

"Nearly." I take a look down at the baby, seeing her eyes nearly closed while her suckles slow.

"Good. I need to talk to you about something." He admits, sitting himself down on the bed next to me, careful not to disturb Arella.

"What's going on now? Are you okay? Are the boys okay?" Possibilities are running through my mind left and right.

There's always something negative happening to us. I just want some good news for a change.