To Save an Angel

sixteen

Marco

A COUPLE WEEKS PAST and January is fast approaching. I was so thankful Sera is little and Angel hates holidays. I mean despises them.

Besides, I'm not American so half the things you all celebrate, have nothing to do with me. Martin Luther King Jr? Great guy, but he didn't help my country.

Fourth of July?

Italy became a country on March 17, 1861. That's what? Like, eh, a century later. What am I celebrating?

Thanksgiving? I don't even know why half the population of America celebrates that. They killed all the Native Americans three years later! They were literally only thankful for three years!

But enough about my rant.

Angel has gone back to work, same place, different boss. A woman this time. She's cool in... Cold aloof way.

All is well, everything is perfect. Until...

"AND BECAUSE OF THIS, YOUR CITIZENSHIP is in question."

I blinked at the man behind the desk.

"Excuse me, how is she not a citizen. She was born here." Trying to control your accent and being pissed does not work well.

His face stays in one position: I sincerely don't give a flying f**k what you're talking about.

I bet he would a f**k to give if I showed him how we do it my country.

"Not according to her birth certificate. She was born in Cuba, her mother immigrated a day later."

"A day? You are going to deport her over a day?" Angel stays silent and quiet.

"I don't make the laws, Mr. Romano."

Dio mio help me. I'm going to bust his head open.

"I know that, I am a citizen. As is she. Now, we are going to leave—"

"I would not advise that Mr. Romano."

I glare at him.

"And why not? Are you going to hold my wife hostage?"

Okay, look. I am not a natural citizen of this country, but because of my Mob connections, the United States Government thinks I am.

The quickest way to get into this country is to be married to a citizen. So... the hardest part about this whole ordeal is ignoring Angel's eyes glaring into my head, wishing it'd explode.

"Honey," She gritted, squeezing my hand. I think I may have broke a few bones. "I didn't want to use your name. I wanted to work for it."

Clearing my throat because merda, her grip is strong. "Yes, I know, but Sera needs her mother, and if you get deported it may take weeks to get you back."

"You're married?" First expression out of him, and it's mild surprise. His eyebrows raise a whole centimeter.

My social group consists of Mafia Bosses and they show more emotion then him.

"Of course. I'm not her lawyer,"

Also slightly untrue. I am her legal advisor it's just not... to her knowledge.

"Why is her name Santos-Gomez then?"

"Well she wanted to keep her independence a little longer. Women."

"Well then, you have 48 hours to present a marriage certificate that is at least a month old."

I nod, grabbing Angel's hand having to use more of my strength than usual to yank her up.

"We will be back," I nod at him, placing my hand of the small of her back, pushing her out of the door.

"Just walk, Angel."

"HELL NO!" Couldn't she wait till we got home before she cursed me up and down the world.

"You don't have a choice, Angel. Do long how long it would take me to get you from Cuba?" I glance over at her angrily,

"At least a month and that is the connections I have."

Especially because of the holidays. It was January 3rd. That's when everyone goes home and stops pretending to like each other.

Her stony silence and lavender glare only made me angrier. So here we go.

Somebody call the cops, cause I have a feeling that by the end of this, she's going to have my balls on a silver platter.

And I'd pay for the silver.