Angel and his Mafia Don

1| New life

Angelo

A one-way plane ticket

1 suitcase and a ton of cash.

This is what my life has been reduced to.

The way I was raised trained me to see the worst in people and the one time I ignore that, my heart was left shattered. I'm tired of people thinking I'm weak, from that dreaded day I vowed to never let anyone in. My plan was simple, get my degree and build my life in the city of dreams.

What could go wrong?

"Hey, kid I ain't got all day, pay and get out," my cab driver yells.

I quickly take out my wallet, glancing at the picture of my family. Family merely a word at this point, blood the only thing that connects us. No more than strangers to me now.

I hand him the cash and carry my luggage out. It's raining like a never-ending waterfall. I'm a really weird person, I actually enjoy the rain. There were three reasons.

One is that the sky reminds me of myself, it never stops crying.

Two is that I love the sound, it was like a beautiful harmony of a million glistening tears.

Three is that as the rain touches my body, it acts as a comfort blanket. It gives me a feeling of safety. A pretty wet one but a feeling of safety nevertheless.

I walk into the luxury apartment building. You're probably wondering why I have an apartment when I was in such a rush to leave. Let's just say, I have a friend who has many connections.

I enter the comfy lobby. It has a smooth white stone floor with a black carpet elegantly placed upon it. The Crystal chandeliers caught my attention next. It's dazzling to the point it blinds you. I hate people who flaunted wealth, it's completely unnecessary. The only reason I'm here is because we couldn't find cheaper ones. 

After admiring the lounge, I quickly make my way to the reception. I peer over the black gloss desk, to make eye contact with the receptionist as he speaks.

"Hey, good evening welcome to the Crystal apartment complex," the receptionist chirps.

How can a person be this energetic this late in the evening.

"I'm renting an apartment here, it should be under the name Angelo La Costa," I state in a monotone voice. Hiding any emotion.

He types into the computer and after few minutes replies, "Here are your keys, Mr La Costa, your suite is number 679 on the 5th floor, If you need anything please do not hesitate to ask!"

I thank him and make my way to the elevator, ignoring the lustful glances of other guests. I inherited my papa's looks but sometimes it was more of a curse. People tend to use you for looks or money or sometimes both. Let's just say, I've learned my lesson. I'm a product of what people have made me, gone is the boy who would giggle at the stupidest things.

I snap out of my daydream when a small bundle bumps into me and lands on the floor. He's tiny, with a mop of curly brown hair on his head. I'm tempted to touch his fluffy head, it reminds me of a newborn lamb.

He quickly picks himself off the floor and peeks through his dark lashes, "I....I'm....rea....really sorry, I ...I didn't m...meant to hit y...you."

He's absolutely adorable. My cold heart bursts, just as he bursts into tears. Shit.
He continues, "I......I'm sorry, p....p....please."

At this point he's sobbing, with his hands wrapping around himself, rocking back and forth.

I have to calm him down, so I gently coo.