Code name: Athena [18+]

Code name: Penitenza

•Apollo DiStefano•

"I know, mom," there was a knot at the back of my throat where all my sorrow was encapsulated "yes, I love you too." I hung up and let out a sob; there's no reason to worry my mother, she will go back to the dark place Artemis' death created. My father doesn't know either and they won't know until I have my son back in my arms.

"Apollo," Mariano walked into the home office "you need to sleep."

"I need my son," my bloodshot eyes met his' "leave me alone," I growled.

"No," he slammed the door behind him "you haven't ate, you drink, you smoke and haven't checked on Arabella in three days. The entire organization is looking for Napoleon, you put out a $5 million reward to anyone who has some sort of information; the only thing you can do now is wait and be with the mother of your son," he sounded angry but I don't care.

"No," I simply replied looking at the empty bottle of rum beside an empty glass. "I never thought this would happen to me; it feels like Artemis all over again. I would rather be boiled in water than being in this situation...he's so small, why would someone take him?" Tears threatened to leave my eyes "I don't want to bury a small casket again, I can't do that," my eyes were frantic as my mind was saturated by the endless negative outcomes.

Mariano approached me sighing "You can't always think negatively, Apollo. You will find Napoleon, there won't be a small casket." He threw the bottle away "How do you think Arabella feels? She carried him in her womb for months, made him from scratch," a faint smile played on my lips at the memory of preggo Arabella trying to bend down to pick up a sock.

She was groaning incredibly loud as I was in the shower but I ignored it because she's a groaner. Once I stepped out, I went to the closet to change into my work outfit where I found Arabella with one hand on the small of her back and the other one trying to reach for a burgundy fuzzy sock on the floor.

"Fuck!" She stepped on it several times. Furiously "Fuck you, sock! You think you can play with a pregnant teen who is a hormonal mess?! Well, FUCK YOU!!!!!" My wife flipped off the sock and then gazed at me, breathing heavily, rage pouring through her gaze "This is your fault!"

I raised an eyebrow crossing my arms "Excuse me?"

"You had to have your way with me!" Her right index was aggressively pointed at me as she stepped closer growling "you reckless little whore!"

Unbothered, totally "Princess, stop throwing a tantrum it's not good for the baby or you."

Her face immediately relaxed as her hands met her seven-month-old baby bump, pronto "I'm so sorry, baby," Arabella frowned "I can't pick up my sock," her voice broke and tears followed "please help me," her head rested between my pecs "please..." she sniffled.

My arms looped around her softly "Sit on the bed, I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes," she sobbed as she walked away.

Poor princess, she really doesn't have it easy being pregnant in her teens. She's right I did that to her but what was I supposed to do? Not fuck her brains out? Wear a condom? We were supposed to have a child within the first year of our marriage anyway!

I picked up the sock from the floor and went to the bed where Arabella was moisturizing her bump with Burt's Bees mamma body cream. She's so perfect, I feel like I'm part of a rom-com; there's no way I can be this lucky. Anyone for that matter.