Page 4 of The Mafia's Seamstress

"I need it in three days," he stated plainly. My eyes widened. I stood up rapidly, my chest nearly colliding with his.

"Excuse me but my avô won't be back for a few weeks if you want him to be the one to make your suit," I explained. He tilted his head with a smile.

"Well don't you have a degree and experience?"

Fuck. I took a deep breath. Three days for pants and jacket? I moved towards the register, his footsteps light behind me. I could possibly do it even though I had other orders I needed to get done. It was going to eat up my time for sure. I was going to have to order dinner tonight so I could finish other orders.

He arched an eyebrow, waiting. I eyed him up and down again. I could probably charge him more for the rushed order. He could definitely afford it with the watch that was on his wrist. I reached for our order forms and a pen.

“Fine,” I said, agreeing to his outrageous deadline. “D.C?" I asked, remembering the initials from the calendar. I leaned against the register, my pen poised and ready.

"Yes. It stands for Dante Costa." His voice slipped around me and I froze. My heart sank to my stomach. I stared at the blank form. No. He couldn't be from that Costa family?

He chuckled darkly and it twisted my stomach. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I needed to concentrate on the pain to keep my hand from trembling.

His chuckle proved that it was exactly what I was thinking. Shit. I was so fucking screwed. Why did I give him an attitude? Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut? I mean he technically started it first so my responses were valid.

His fingers slipped a strand of hair behind my ear and he lifted my chin. I looked into his eyes. They weren’t cold anymore. Instead they looked interested. The last thing I wanted was to seem interesting to a member of the Costa family.

"I think you owe me something, Cinderella." He glanced at my lips and my stomach coiled in a way I hadn’t felt in a while.

A thought rushed through me. While I knew some of the familiar faces that would come in growing up I also remembered the moments where I wasn't allowed to be in the room when certain people came to the shop. My brain filtered through the hazy memories rapidly and then it clicked.

Taking a deep breath I filled out the ordered form. I offered the sweetest of smiles once again.

"Yes. Your order form," I said, ripping the paper. I placed it on his chest, pushing back slightly, hoping he would back away. But he didn’t. His face stayed near mine and he kept my hand on his chest. His heart pulsed in a steady rhythm beneath my fingers unlike my own. My heart was rattling in my chest as I fought to keep my composure. I didn’t want to appear weak to anyone, especially to a member of the Costa family.

"You have three days. I'll be back tomorrow for a fitting,” he said.

"Well I'll make you an appointment," I said calmly. He offered a small grin and I hated how it made my stomach twist in something that should have been fear. Dante Costa knew my avô. He called my avô by his first name. Which only meant one thing.

My avô worked for the mafia.

CHAPTER 2

Blue-eyed Beauty

IT’S EASY TO FALL FOR A GUY WITH BABY BLUE EYES AND A WARM SMILE BUT BE CAREFUL, THERE MIGHT BE A LION LURKING BENEATH

This wasn’t how I planned my day. I woke up knowing I was going to have coffee and food from Senhora Maria’s. I had a plan to get work done. There were things that I needed to sew and alter.

Never did I imagine I would be uncovering a family secret today; a secret that was stained with blood. My jaw tightened and he slipped the paper inside his suit jacket. Mr. Costa straightened himself. Tall, brooding and unfairly attractive.

It was always the ridiculously hot ones, wasn't it? They hid their darkness behind perfected smiles that made you feel adored. Their eyes softened in false vulnerability to lead you to believe you were the only one that mattered. However it was impossible for Mr. Costa to mask his predatory aura. It exuded from him whether he realized it or not.

"I'll be back tomorrow at six for the fitting," he said, keeping his eyes on me. I nonchalantly made my way to the front of the shop, avoiding his eyes. He needed to leave so I could breathe. I needed a minute alone to come to terms that my whole life was cracking open. It was like my family had their own pandora box and I unknowingly unlocked it.

"We close at six," I said. He brushed by me and I tried to fight the chill that went down my spine again. This man had been here for maybe half an hour and he kept eliciting reactions out of me that I shouldn’t be feeling.

"You have three days to make my suit. You will be open," he said with a cocky grin. My nostrils flared as did my temper.

"I hope you understand that means I’m charging you extra,” I said, crossing my arms. He tilted his head side to side, assessing me again.

“Even if I’m one of this shop’s best customers?” he asked. I bit down on the inside of my cheek. He was saying this on purpose. His eyes flickered between my eyes, hoping to catch a chip in my mask. It was obvious I was unaware of this predicament with the mafia. But I didn’t want him to know just how deeply it was unraveling me. Just how deep was my avô in this?

“Well if you are then you have no problem with me charging extra,” I said with a smile. “First you’re giving me three days to sew a suit during the holiday season and now you’re having me work outside of our set hours,” I continued. I took a step towards him, wrapping myself in his cologne again. His pupils dilated and his shoulders tensed beneath his suit.

“Knowing who you are, I say you can afford it,” I finished. Mr. Costa clicked his tongue.

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