“I'm not that bad,” he said. “I'm rich, popular. I have a sense of humor. I'm good looking, and not to mention I have a really big—”

“Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?”“Haven,” she said quietly, peeking at him.He gazed at her peculiarly. “Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you’re confused, since I'm standing in front of you.” She stared at him, and hecracked a smile. “I'm kidding. Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two.”“Haven, not Heaven,” she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. “My name’s Haven.”

“I'm graduating and she corrected my vocabulary the other day. I said I felt nauseous, and she said the word I wanted was nauseated. Fucked me up, bro. Didn't know there was a difference.”

“Can I keep you? he whispered, laughing and pulling away from her as soon as the words came out. "Whats wrong with me? I'm quoting Casper.”

“They're titles other people give us. They don't make us who we are. If you're just a slave, then I'm nothing more than a Principe. Is that all I am, Haven? A Mafia Prince?"No, of course not."That's what I thought," he said. "Just because some people see us that way doesn't mean it's what we are. We'll overcome our labels together. They don't matter, they don't make us who we are. We make us who are are. Fuck those motherfuckers."She laughed. "When did you get so smart?""Baby, I've always been smart," he said playfully. "I'm just lazy as hell and rarely show it.”

“I see you’re not being as sneaky this time around. I’m glad. You make a gorgeous couple.”Carmine smirked as he looked at Haven, seeing the blush rise up into her cheeks. “We do look good, don’t we?”Celia laughed. “I see your ego’s still as big.”“That’s not the only thing big about me,” Carmine joked. “Isn’t that right, tesoro?”

“Dr. DeMarco nodded, motioning toward Carmine. “I’m thankful for the Mazda— damn thankful you didn’t return it scratched,” he said, glaring at his father. “I’m thankful to be out of that ridiculous boarding school. Thankful for music and my gun... I fucking love my gun.” Haven looked at him with surprise as Dr. DeMarco laughed. “It’s a nice gun. I checked it out. A 1911 .45 ACP. Where’d you get it?”Carmine shrugged. “Maybe I don’t recall.” “Fair enough,” Dr. DeMarco said. ”Are you done?” “Uh, I'm thankful for you all, even if you get on my nerves sometimes,” Carmine said. “Oh, and orgasms... definitely thankful for those.” “That’s enough,” Dr. DeMarco said, shaking his head as he turned to her. “What are you thankful for, child?” She hesitated, her nerves running amuck. “Having food to eat. A bed to sleep in, too.”