Two broken hearts, pent-up anger, the right amount of Philly grit, painful yearning, and the complete inability to move on… This is Alfie and West’s love story. It begins in the wreckage they created.

Mom always warned me when I was a kid. Remember, mijo, stay away from the Sons of Munster, she’d say, wagging her finger at me and all. They were bad. They were mobsters. Then we’d head into church, and she’d hold my hand almost as tightly as she clutched the secret of who my biological dad was.

Since I’d been a bit of a screw-up all my life, it only made sense for me to blow it out of the park when I finally gave up on my marriage years and years later. Then again, who could blame me? I had two success stories—my kids. I loved them to pieces. But the man I shared them with—the love of my life—was moving on. I was also done pretending to be someone else, I was sick of the lies, and…to be honest, I was going through an identity crisis.

So, to hell with it. Since West wasn’t taking me back, maybe the Sons of Munster would accept me.