Valentina Point of View
“Throw Ms. Bianchi out of the window, Sienna. You can call be Valentina or Val like my brother does.” I said to the short but utterly cute woman that my brother chose to have in his life.
We were currently in my bedroom with the company of my little sweet peach whose diaper I’m changing with a grunt.
My baby boy grew up much that his stools are starting to smell so badly.
“You made a mess, sweet boy. Mamma is having a hard time here.” I mumbled to him with a fake glare and he returned it by laughing out in fits as his mischievous brain started to work.
The little boy made it clear that he was not having anything but fun while he trashed violently just so he could make it harder for me if it was not in the first place.
And the most vicious thing he got from his father is that all the while he is tough to handle, he has this mix of two signature smirks – one inherited from my rouge brother and the other from the royal swine.