Page 17 of The Mafia's Seamstress

I stared into Dante’s eyes. They were tempting me. He wanted me to give in. His hand scorched a trail higher up on my thighs. My body trembled beneath his hand. I leaned in, following the thread that was pulling us in. But then a phone rang interrupting us. He let out a curse in Italian.

“Let me take this,” he said, standing up and heading to the kitchen. After a few hushed words he came back out. “I have to head out to handle…something,” he said. I nodded. The need to touch him disappeared like a candle being blown out. I watched Dante walk out my door to do unspeakable things.

And now I needed to reconcile with myself over the fact that I almost gave into Dante Costa.

CHAPTER 5

Long Distance Phone Calls

DON’T START A GAME IF YOU’RE NOT READY TO PLAY…

Dante had walked out the door and I laid back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. I covered my face with my hand. I felt conflicted. I wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way with Dante and yet I was. Dante was every mother's nightmare. Actually he was worse. He was the thing that gave nightmares.

My phone rang and I jumped. My heart dropped for a second. Flipping over my phone my stomach twisted in knots. It was my avô. I had questions and this man could answer them.

"Bom dia!" I said brightly.

"Lucia," he warned. Fuck.

"Avô," I responded in the same tone. He sighed.

"You know I know," he said. I grimaced. I wasn’t going to question what he meant. Growing up it was difficult to keep secrets when everyone knew everyone. And yet he managed to keep a big one.

He made it sound as if I was in trouble when he was the one in the hot seat. I took a deep breath because two could play at this game.

"I also know about you know what," I said, leaning back against the couch. He was not going to make me feel guilty about something I was purposely kept away from. He grumbled, clearly in the wrong.

"It's not something I wanted to keep from you," he said. Tears pricked my eyes. But he did. He kept a lot from me. Everything I knew about my family was basically a lie and yet I still felt like I was missing pieces of a puzzle. "Eu sinto muito. I should have told you. There's still so much for you to know,” he said.

“Then tell me what I need to know right now,” I pleaded. He hesitated.

“We work for the mafias,” he said. I dug my hand into the couch and gritted my teeth. The last thing I wanted was for my voice to reveal any kind of weakness.

“You mean all of them? They come to the shop?” I asked.

“For the past 15 years or so,” he said. My brain raced. This has been going on for years, right under my nose.

“Why?” I asked. He cleared his throat. I didn’t give a shit if this made him uncomfortable. I needed to know the truth.

“There was an agreement years ago,” he said, firmly.

“What kind of agreement? Why?” I pushed. He sighed heavily.

"Minha vida I have to go. But I promise to tell you everything when I can,” he said. Convenient that he had to leave. I swallowed. At least he admitted to working for the mafia.

“Is there anything important I should know until then?” I asked quickly. I needed him to give something, any morsel of truth so I didn’t feel like I was walking on eggshells. Nerves erupted all over my skin.

"Just be careful and Dante…," he trailed off. My cheeks flamed at the mention of his name. From Dante’s point of view he had a nice relationship with my avô.

"Sim?" I said, feeling my body tighten up. I could hardly breathe as I waited for him to speak.

"Trust him," he said before hanging up.

The bread was cooling on the kitchen counter and the movie ended a while ago. I rested my head against the couch cushion. Trust him? My lying avô was telling me to trust a man whose career involved lurking in the shadows.

How could I? A part of me wanted to run away from Dante and yet there was something pulling me towards him. With every stitch of his suit I was becoming more attracted to him. His long fit body, the tattoos that he kept hidden. He was weaving his way into my heart.

I must be crazy.

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