• Prologue
    Angeline my little Angie, her picture is taped to the underside of my cell mate’s bunk. She is the reason I’m in this hellish place, or is it because of the poor choices I made throughout my life that lead to this point? In here I am not daddy, honey, baby or even Vinnie I am inmate number 00101495; Vinchenzo Tunicio Jr. I am here because I made poor choices concerning my daughter’s life, a life that I never thought I’d ever put in harm’s way; I Vinchenzo Angelo Tunicio Jr. sold my five year old daughter’s life to the mob to repay 100,000 dollars in gambling debts I owed them. That was six months ago, six months before they locked me away after putting me through the ringer in court case after court case. They treat me like I was the murderer the one who put the gun to my little girl’s head and pulled the trigger then and only then silencing her high pitched pleas for me to save her. I am a monster; I deserve the electric chair that awaits me...
     
    Chapter one


    The sound of horns blaring and various profanities shouted in English and Italian woke me from my alcohol induced slumber. I staggered to my feet, my clothes rumpled and soaked in some foul smelling liquid I couldn’t identify; I prayed to god it wasn’t my own urine. My actions of last night were as fuzzy as the reception on our cheap TV at home; it wasn’t until the blast of a car horn brought me to the sobering conclusion that I’d passed out in the middle of the street sometime between 3’oclock this morning and whatever time it was right now. s**t! Sophia’s going to murder me! I cursed internally as I bobbed and weaved through traffic while hurriedly attempting to hail a cab.

    “Have a rough night there pally?” The driver asked smirking from the rear view mirror
    “Yeah, you can say that again.” I replied slumping in the back seat

    The rest of the drive was driven in silence which was a good thing considering I was extremely hung overfor the fifth time that week. Minutes later I slinked out of the cab cursing internally at the sun for its brightness, which had just caused me to vomit into the hedges, the meager contents of my stomach. My attempt to pull myself together was in vain so I stumbled into the house as I was, hung-over and covered in again what I hoped wasn’t urine. I knew I’d get a verbal hanging from Sophia either way.

    “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in, nice of you to come home.” The nasal voice of my girlfriend Sophia quipped

    Sophia, my girlfriend of six years looked more like she belonged on the cast of Jersey Shore with her horribly gaudy jewelry and big, overly teased hair, and a spray tan so dark she is often confused with being an African American and not Italian-American.

    “Sorry Soph, I was out with the boys last night I must’ve tried to come home because I woke up in the middle of the street.”I pleaded my case to no avail

    She rolled her emerald green eyes at me and muttered something under her breath that sounded like ‘such a loser’. That only made me more upset than she had already made me with her god damn accusatory ways! She turned to walk away from me; I roughly gripped her bare, tanned arm and yanked her to face me. I could feel the veins in my neck pulsating with anger.

    “I am not a loser I am a good guy I work my a** off for you and our daughter while you sit around and get spray-tans all day!” I shouted

    Before she could reply I heard the soft patter of little feet, the arguing must’ve woken Angeline from her nap. And there she was standing in the doorway of the living room rubbing at her green eyes, the same color as her mom’s. Her long dark hair was mused the naturally unruly curls stuck out every which way.

    “Daddy, why are you and mommy fighting?” She sheepishly asked
    “Its ok baby daddy was just leaving.” Sophia hissed an icy edge to her words.

    I snapped then. That was as they say the straw that broke the camel’s back. I made sure to usher Angeline out of the room by telling her to go pack for an adventure; she was gone when I used some rope I’d found in the closet to tie Sophia up. I gagged her with a piece of the sheets on the bed the same material; I’d used to blind fold her with. I had gagged her prior to tying her up so there were only muffled noises. I then shoved her bound and gagged body into the closet which locks from the outside, collected my daughter, my credit card, and her car keys. I took off for the place where they’d never suspect me, the dumpiest part of the city. The Italian “ghetto” so to speak..