ARELLA (A Mafia Story)

Sixteen*

Freya

It's quiet throughout the house. The boys are all sleeping and Damon is resting fitfully beside me. He never seems to fully fall into a deep sleep. Even when he's resting he has to stay alert.

One of his tattooed arms is resting beneath his head, the other slung over his toned stomach.

Arella is sitting up in bed beside me, watching cartoons on my phone. She's still tired. I can see it from the way her eyes are still drooping and she keeps leaning to the side. Poor baby is going to topple over, but she kept pointing to my phone with those pleading deep blue eyes of hers.

I couldn't make myself deny her. So here I am, at nearly five in the morning, supervising Arella as she watches the cartoons Alessandro introduced her to.

"Are you ready to lay back down?" I ask, exhaustion heavy in my voice.

Arella reaches up to rub her eyes, tossing my phone onto the bed and crawling into my lap. She wordlessly pulls on my shirt with questioning eyes.

"Just a little bit, okay?" Ever since I introduced her to nursing, it's typically all she wants to drink.

Between worrying about Alessandro, stressing about Dimitri, and getting back into the groove of taking care of a toddler, I'm exhausted. There's never enough time in the day for me to accomplish what I originally set out to do.

Add a nursing toddler into the mix and nothing gets done. It doesn't help that we're all stuck in our penthouse until this Dimitri situation is resolved. Who knows how long that will take? For all I know it could take years.

As much as I love our penthouse, I don't want to spend the next few years cooped up. I'm a social person. I like to go out to brunch with my friends, shop, and have fresh air. It's basically a need more than a want.

I already feel stifled. Damon and Andrea get to go out everyday. Yeah, it's for work, but at least they get to be outside. The terrace of our penthouse is nice enough. I just miss being able to see my friends.

With a frustrated sigh, I lean back in bed and lift my shirt for Arella. She lays flat on my chest as she drinks her milk. Between swallows, she reaches up to rub her eyes.

The boys all did the same thing when they were babies. They would fall asleep on my chest while I stroked their hair or read them books. Gianni's favorite book was about fire trucks. He would make me read it over and over again until I wanted to pull my hair out.

Deep down, I regret not seeing those moments for what they were. They were precious moments that should've been cherished. It's just hard to live in the moment like that when you have two toddlers running around the house, destroying anything they can get their hands on.

I guess that's why I was so grateful that Alessandro was an easy baby. For the most part, he was content. He rarely cried and was content to rock in his swing. Looking back now, that should've been our first warning sign.

Arella pats my upper chest, clearly wanting my attention. Pushing my brooding thoughts to the side, I look down at my baby. She's pointing towards Damon while having her early morning milk snack.

"He's sleeping. We have to be quiet. Daddy has a very important job, so he needs his sleep." To emphasize the need to be quiet, I place my pointer finger against my lips.