Angel In The Mafia’s Hell
Just then, the front door swung open, and there stood Luigi, his infectious grin making me smile.
He was dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie. Moments later, a man, whom I presumed was his father, came up behind him. He gazed at me as if he already knew me.
“Summer,” Luigi called, pulling my attention back to him. “What are you doing over there?” He jogged down the steps, high-fiving Tristan, who giggled in response. “What’s up, little man?”
Luigi turned to face his dad. “Dad, this is Tashir and her boy Tristan. Guys, that’s my father, Dan.”
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