Page 2 of The Mafia's Seamstress

"Bom dia querida," he said. I smiled at the endearment.

"Bom dia! Did you land okay?" I asked. I had been nervous about my avô flying over six hours on a plane. Naturally he grunted.

"Sim but I no sleep." I could hear him pacing around his hotel room.

"Senhora Maria's evening dress is the blue sparkle one right?" I asked despite knowing the answer. I could practically hear his eyes roll. I was a woman who liked validation, I couldn’t help it.

"Sim. It just needs a few tucks here and there. Ah...Lucia?" I tiled my head at the sound of his hesitation.

"Avô?" I questioned, looking away from my to do list. It was never good when he used my actual name. He sounded unsure and my avô was not that kind of man. He was confident and stubborn.

"There will be a few customers coming while I'm away," he said. I chuckled.

"Claro," I said, matter of factly. He let out a small cough before continuing.

"Some of them might...remember, você é uma Silva," he said. I furrowed my brow. I wasn't blind to rude or aggressive customers. I used to work in retail. I remembered my days of working holidays at Always 21. He had seen my battles with impolite customers. But this felt like something else. My skin prickled and for some reason my mind went back to the two men I saw on the street.

"Of course," I responded firmly.

"I go nap, okay? The plane had me hurting. Beijinhos," he said, sighing in relief.

"Beijinhos." I stared at my phone for a moment. That was strange. But I was a Silva and therefore could handle anything. Cracking my fingers and ignoring the weird feeling running through me I got started with my day.

It was a busy day with customers picking up orders, requesting pieces and measurements. I spent my entire life inside this shop. I knew where everything was like the back of my hand. It was because of my avô that I had a love for creating clothes.

I had an internship with a local designer after graduating but then he called needing help with his shop and I couldn't resist. I always dreamt of working side by side with him but he insisted that I get my degree first. So I did get one but in fashion design.

And now while he was away I had the shop all to myself. I breathed in deeply. This is what I’ve waited for. I’ve been waiting for him to trust me with his precious treasure that he worked so hard to get off the ground.

Silva’s Seamstress Shop was the only seamstress shop in this particular area of Raven Hill County. Raven Hill County was nestled in the northeast with six cities. Loba Vista, Hare Ridge, Tiger Bay, Eagle Pointe, Wolf Grove and Hummingbird Heights.

I grew up in Loba Vista. It was a quiet town with a big Portuguese community. That was something I was heavily grateful for. I grew up on the food, music, festas and people. My parents and avó passed away when I was young and the people in the community are who helped raise me.

With the holiday season approaching I was excited to be stabbing myself accidentally with pins and yelling at my beloved sewing machine. A part of me was nervous though. Holidays were usually a busy time of year where people needed clothes fixed and a few custom pieces for parties. We typically had two other seamstresses working with me but one was getting married and the other was recovering from surgery.

Although I felt a tad overwhelmed it felt nice to have a quiet shop. And the fact my avô left me alone knowing all of that spoke volumes. I had his trust and the last thing I wanted to do was fuck that up. I ran a tight schedule and while this season would probably be hectic I was ready for it.

Lost in my head I faintly heard the chime of the front door.

"Excuse me?" A deep voice called out. My hands paused. The voice scraped across my skin and I felt goosebumps rise. My heart thumped in my chest. Never had a voice elicit such a reaction from me. I moved my foot off the pedal, pausing the pants I was working on. My head popped over my machine to find the face of the voice that made my body buzz.

"Hi there!" I said, nearly tripping over the leg of my work desk as I stood up. What a great first impression.

Stormy gray eyes collided with mine with annoyance. He was tall. Very tall. And I knew it because I myself nearly reached him in height. His dark hair was gelled back, perfectly, not a strand out of place. His gaze traveled up my body slowly, like a predator. I fought back a shiver at his intense and blatant stare. His eyes hardened once they reached my face.

My avô’s words echoed in my head. He was probably the type my avô warned me about. His broad shoulders tensed as he took a step forward.

"I have an appointment," he said briskly. My nose twitched at his short tone. Oh, I knew his type. He wore slim fitted black slacks with a matching suit jacket and a white button shirt. He seemed clean, very stoic. Even his charcoal pocket square was pressed and most likely made from silk that was worth sixty dollars a yard. I bit the inside of my cheek. He oozed money and power, the dangerous kind. And he was terribly handsome.

But instead of feeling nervous around him I felt quite the opposite. Something about the dark gleam in his eyes compelled me towards him.

"Ah I see-"

"With Diogo," he said, cutting me off.

"My grandfather is currently away on business," I said, calmly. He scoffed and I held on to my fake smile. I had met men like him before. He was probably a man that was used to everything being handed to him when and where he wanted it. Great. The last thing I wanted was a rich arrogant man disturbing my peace. Sadly for him I knew how to deal with men who acted like boys.

"Well I had a fucking appointment with him and this was the only time I could come in," he bit out.

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