Page 23 of The Mafia's Seamstress

"Do I have to remind you that I let you put me in my place?" he said. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his pupils were dilating. I smirked.

"So you enjoy it? Me putting you in your place, me having control,” I said. Dante’s nostrils flared. Got him.

"Cinderella, you need to watch what you're saying,” he warned.

"Why?" I asked innocently. I was secretly a wolf pretending to be a rabbit. Dante’s eyebrows furrowed.

"You had a massive migraine, you need to let your body relax," he said, pulling back.

I grabbed the soup from the table and settled back into the couch. He was right and it annoyed me. He let out a sigh and leaned over to carefully dust kisses all over my face. I felt every inch of me relax into the cushions. From my forehead, over each eye, my nose, across my cheeks until he hung right above my lips. I tilted back, waiting. I wanted him to kiss me. But would he still want me even after I severed my family’s agreement with his?

I felt the brush of his lips as he whispered, "maybe I do like it."

The night ended with a kiss on the cheek and I slept on the couch. The next day the suit was ready for the big charity event. I was a bit annoyed that the event was taking place during the week. Did no one work the next day? I chuckled to myself. Of course the people at this event could afford having the next day off considering their bank accounts.

I typed away a few orders I needed when my avô called to check in. My heart was pounding. My grandpa's calls were now giving me major anxiety.

"Lucia," his warm voice echoed in the phone.

"Olá avô. How is it going?” I asked. I needed to act normal before asking the questions that have plagued my brain.

“It’s good. I picked up some extra clients,” he said. I nodded along. “How is the shop?” he asked. I snorted.

“You mean the shop that seems to provide outfits for the mafias?” I asked. Yeah sugarcoating was never my strong suit. He sighed.

“We couldn’t have a few more minutes of normal conversation?” he teased. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“And risk you mysteriously hanging up? Nope,” I said, moving my way to the back of the store. He sighed again.

“There are some things I can’t say over the phone,” he said. I furrowed my brows. Was it because someone could be listening in?

“You said I could trust Dante?” I asked, cheeks feeling warm.

“Sim. Trust the Costa’s,” he said.

“What about Luca?” I asked, glancing at the front of the store. The sun was cutting through the store, creating a peaceful glow.

“Those boys are like my grandsons. You can trust them but don’t feel afraid to put them in their place,” he huffed. I bit back a laugh.

“I haven’t so far,” I said. My avô chuckled and I felt myself relax. Someone called to him from the other side.

"I promise to tell you everything once I'm back. Remember you are a Silva. Beijinhos."

The phone clicked. It was time to think. My family had been working with the mafia since I was little. So something happened. Also the shop was under neutral territory. I doubt it was because every mafia preferred my avô’s work.

He also didn’t seem afraid of the mafias although we had to be careful on the phone. There was more to this puzzle. There was also some sort of special agreement between us and the Costa’s.

The door dinged and I made my way back to the front of the shop. The devil stood before me to pick up his suit. He had a garment bag in one hand. I eyed it curiously.

"How do you feel?" he asked. He scanned my face. His eyes were filled with concern.

"A little drowsy but definitely better. Thanks again for the soup," I said. I moved to hand him his suit.

After this there was no reason for us to hang around. Our professional agreement ended here with a simple transaction of a suit. But I still had questions to ask him. He took his suit from me and handed me the bag he walked in with.

"Tonight. The charity event. You. In this dress. I'll pick you up at your apartment at seven," he said. It was a demand, not a request. A tiny thrill went down my spine. I eyed the bag.

Tonight. Tonight I would ask Dante everything.

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