Ti Amo (Battaglia Mafia Series)

“Come to Papa.” He sat her on his chest. The questioning look in her eyes made her appear to struggle with whether the new man in their lives was friend or foe. Giovanni knew it would take time for her to bond with him and see him as her true father. He removed her pacifier and she frowned at him. Her gaze dropped to the bumblebee plug in his hand then rose to meet his. She spoke in her baby voice. The words she formed were melodic and incomprehensible. Giovanni chuckled. “She speaks?”


Eve didn’t see the humor in the situation. In fact she narrowed her jeweled eyes on him just before she snatched her pacifier from his hand and popped it back into her mouth. She had now lost interest in the game and scooted back to climb off his chest. Giovanni caught her again enjoying her stubborn determination; he sat her on his chest keeping her still. “My little belladonna, Papa’s going to call you lucciola. Do you know what that means?” He reached up and smoothed her soft brown locks of hair backward. “Lucciola means firefly. That’s what you are my little firefly. Buzz! Buzz!” he tickled her side. Eve squealed with laughter.

Mira entered the room with a baby diaper in her hand. She wore a white t-shirt. He noticed the points of her thick erect nipples pressing through the cotton, and her shapely hips and ass escaped the cover of the nightshirt she’d chosen. He was glad he hadn’t seen all of this when he crept under the covers with her. It would have been impossible to control himself. Especially considering the dream he’d had of her just minutes before.

“Morning you two. Buon giorno, Mama’s baby.” Mira smiled at Eve.

“Unh!” Eve stretched both arms, pleading with her mother to free her from captivity. He had to release her. Mira laid her flat and began to peel back the sticky tape on both sides of the diaper. Giovanni sat up to watch.

“Somebody’s a little ripe, isn’t she?” Mira chuckled. She glanced over to Giovanni. “I’ll give her a bath later. But you’ll need to send someone out for food. There’s nothing here but wine.” She returned her attention to her daughter. “Lucky for him I packed your cereal and juice, huh baby? Or else daddy would have to get breakfast pronto!”

Giovanni smiled. In minutes Mira was done. He again reached for Eve. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. He never cared for kids or babies, though many were placed in his arms. He was the godfather to over two dozen children in both Italy and Sicily. Never once did he bond with the child he held. But Eve was different. He couldn’t be more in love with her. She came to him willingly. Mira rolled the diaper into a tight ball and then dropped it in the wastebasket. She climbed in bed. Eve lay between them both.

“What is this about fireflies?” Mira asked.

“Lucciola lucciola, gialla gialla… metti la briglia alla cavalla… che la vuole il figlio del re… lucciola lucciola vieni con me,” he sang. Eve clapped. She sat up to bob her head at the sound of her father’s melodic voice. Giovanni turned on his side and sang the nursery rhyme again, shaking her thigh. When it was over he kissed Eve’s arm.

“How sweet. I love to hear you sing,” Mira grinned at him. Damn if her smile wasn’t brighter than the sun. She made him feel so warm and loved with that smile he faltered in his singing. Either she didn’t know or understand the power she held over him. She fell back on the pillow and tucked their daughter in under the covers. “Where did you learn the song?”

“My father would sing a lullaby to me when I was a little boy. Reminds me of Eve. You speak Italian now, why don’t you translate it for Eve,” he said with a raised brow. He had noticed Mira’s comfort around the language.

“I do speak a little. I’m not that great. But I learned.”

“For me?” Giovanni asked.

“For Eve,” Mira winked. “I wanted her to know Italian and English. Look at her, she’s the best of both worlds isn’t she?”

“Yes she is. Grazie, for a such a special gift Bella.” Giovanni smiled.

“I’ll translate. Eve, look at me baby.” Her daughter’s head turned and she blinked up at her mother. “Papa said, firefly, firefly, yellow and bright… bridle the filly under your light… the son of the king is ready to ride… firefly, firefly, fly by his side.”

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