My stepdad called me a pig. My ex-wife threw me out with thirty-six dollars. So I answered an ad—a mafia donna needed a father for her son. She said the marriage was paper only. Then she started coming home early, put her head on my shoulder, and asked me to stay. When my ex showed up at her gate, her four-year-old called me “Dad.” But nobody knows the truth: I didn’t find that ad. The ad found me.
