Page 36 of The Mafia's Seamstress

Ifound myself back at the Costa’s for dinner. The old man was in fact Dante’s father. I could see the resemblance. Same inky black hair that was peppered with streaks of white and gray eyes.

He sat at the head while Luca and Dante flanked his sides. I decided to take the head at the other end. There was an empty seat across from me.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner Mr. Costa,” I said politely. Dante’s father smiled at me.

“Please call me Michael,” he said. I nodded. A throat cleared behind me. I turned around to see my avô. A smile broke across my face.

“Avô!” I said. I stood up and walked over to give him a big hug. My body curled over his. My avô laughed.

“You’re going to break my rib, querida. I wasn’t gone that long,” he teased. I pulled away, glaring. He ignored my look, patted my back and headed back to the table. The men stood up to greet my avô with hugs and handshakes. I took my seat quietly.

“Lucia?” my avô asked. I looked at him. He eyed me and then the seat. In retrospect now that my avô arrived he should have taken the end of the table seat.

But he’s been gone and I’ve had to deal with his shit so I deserved this seat. I pointed to the empty seat across from me. He said nothing taking his seat but tension hung tightly in the air.

“Should we discuss what I have to say before or after dinner?” I asked, crossing my arms. Michael chuckled.

“She’s a lot like Anna,” Michael commented, mentioning my avó. I smiled at the compliment. My avô snorted.

“You have no idea,” my avô said, shaking his head.

“After dinner, Lucia,” Dante said. He must have noticed my impatience. I nodded.

“Let’s eat, boys,” I commanded.

Half an hour later we were back in the meeting room where Dante made a mess of me on the table. I glanced at it before looking at Dante. He smirked against his whiskey glass. I rolled my eyes. At the table Michael sat at the head and we sat around.

“It’s good to see you Michael,” my avô said. They cheered their glasses.

“I wish it was under better circumstances Diogo,” Michael said. I watched the men, analyzing their relaxed bodies, watching as they spoke to each other casually. Luca sat next to me and squeezed my knee. I shot him a small smile before taking a sip of whiskey. My avô looked at me, his eyes disappearing into sadness.

“I guess now it is time,” he said. I nodded.

“May I start?” I asked. The men nodded and I took a deep breath before explaining what happened with Cole. “From my understanding and assumption of the situation the Anders want a way to take our shop, or should I say our territory,” I said, glancing at my avô. “They were looking for papers of some kind when their men broke in. And yes it was their men. Cole made it obvious by our conversation. So now this is the part where you tell me that this neural territory is bullshit,” I said. Everyone remained quiet. My avô sighed deeply.

“Tambem, querida. It’s true to an extent. Back then there was a war between us and the Americans. We pushed them back to where they are now. We all agreed on the territories. But then your parents died and your avó was killed,” my avô began. My stomach sank. Killed? By who?

“It was just you and I. I swore that I would protect you from this life. So I disbanded the Portuguese mafia and entered an agreement with the Costa’s,” he continued. I knew it. Michael nodded. I took a deep breath, processing it all. “We declared that our territory would be neutral. The others accepted. Although the Costa’s are the ones who run things in our city ,” he continued.

“The Americans are no longer accepting of this agreement and want to take it. They must be searching for the contract we made,” my avô finished explaining.

“Pause, is this agreement a secret from the other clans?” I asked.

“It is. All the clans agreed on the neutrality portion but no one knows that we’ve been watching over Loba Vista,” Dante said.

“So you’re telling me that our territory is owned by the Italians?” I said, anger seeping into my voice. I really liked Dante and Luca. Hell, even Michael was cool but I didn’t like the idea of them owning something that used to be ours. My avô nodded. “And now the Americans want to take back what is rightfully mine?” I asked. My avô’s eyes sparkled.

“Yours?” Michael asked. I stared at him before taking another sip of whiskey. I enjoyed the burn and I used it to fuel my anger.

“Yes. The shop belongs to the Silva’s,” I said. My avô tapped his fingers on the table.

“And the city?” Michael asked.

“It was ours and was supposed to keep being ours,” I pointed out.

“That may be so but the land is no longer ours. It’s the Costa’s,” my avô pointed out. “The Anders are their problem now,” he said. I scoffed.

“The Anders are everyone’s problem. They believe the territory is still ours because this agreement you have is a secret. Cole made that clear when he asked about whether or not I would give the shop to the Costa’s,” I said. “Which by the way I made it known that was a no. Imagine what the other mafias will think once they find out just how much land the Costa’s own. It won’t be good. You’ll have more than the Anders to worry about,” I said. Dante sighed.

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