Page 32 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

People don’t look out for me. No one has ever told me that I don’t have to be scared because they’re watching my back. But here is this four year old girl looking up with clear eyes and telling me that she’s here for me.

It’s so absurd, and so absurdly sweet that I can’t find adequate words to say in reply. I give her tiny hand a kiss and manage a simple, “Thank you, Sidony.”

Achilles is gone for nearly ten minutes. That’s more than enough time to get out of the building and be carried blocks away by the flow of the crowd. But Sidony’s hand is an anchor in mine, and I don’t try to fight it. It feels… too beautiful and fragile to let go of.

We eat a delicious brunch at the bar of The Cooper’s Arms, and then Achilles leads us back out into the noonday streets for some shopping. I have no idea what to expect from this. I’ve nevershopped for clothes myself, only ever lifted anything that would fit me out of run down thrift stores when whatever I was wearing got too small or fell apart.

Sure enough, the first shop Achilles takes us into immediately stops me in my tracks. It’s filled with golden light and racks upon racks of brand new garments. Sleek black mannequins show off costumes and accessories fit for a first lady, and women who are already well-dressed roam the aisles, shadowed by store attendants that arealsowell dressed.

Oh god. I might actually faint in here. It’s too bright, too beautiful. There’s already an attendant approaching us with a broad smile on her wide-eyed face.

At the last moment, Achilles waves her away.

I pull in a shaky breath of relief.

“Show me one thing you like,” Achilles says casually. “I’ll do the rest.”

I’m not surprised he could build a wardrobe for me off a single piece. Aside from the moment when he rushed into Sidony’s room with a missing suit jacket and splatters of wine on his shirt- and that forbidden time when he came out of the bathroom in nothing but pajama pants- I’ve never seen him looking less than perfectly dressed.

Unfortunately for him, there’s nothing in this store that I would be caught dead in. The cuts are revealing, the colors are rich and flashy, and the fabrics are frilly and thin. All I need is three pairs of the same kind of jeans, and a few dark sweaters thicker than the one I’m wearing now. A thick jacket, some thick socks, a scarf, and I’m done.

Unfortunately forme, there’s nothing resembling jeans in this entire store.

I reach out to a black blouse that looks like it’s wrapped around itself, with a plunging neckline and wispy cap sleevesmade of red lace. The fabric between my fingers is so soft it feels like water running over my skin.

“Do they have anything a little more… practical?”

Achilles’s eyebrows shoot up. He looks like I’ve just dropped a worm on his shoe. “We’re not here forpractical. We’re here for the wardrobe of a mafia princess. Thomas might have let you dress like a street urchin your whole life, but that is not going to continue now that you’re a part of our estate.”

I blanch, shocked at my own stupidity.A street urchin.

Well… he’s right about that.

Achilles’s brow furrows, and I realize I’ve let him see my horror. Luckily, he’s completely misinterpreted it too.

“I hardly blame you,” he says. “You clearly haven’t been allowed to dress in a way that compliments your body and coloring.”

That’s true too, but not for the reasons he thinks. I use clothes to hide. I use them to hide how small I am, my femininity. Clothes are my armor, not decorations.

“Oh, this one’s so pretty Raleigh!”

Sidony is further down the main aisle, pointing excitedly at a mannequin dressed in a long-sleeved piece that’s anything but subtle. The dress is a rich burgundy, fitted at the waist, with a skirt that flares out and stops daringly at mid-thigh. The deep color is striking, but the collar is tied with a huge silk pink bow.

I’m about to open my mouth to protest, but Sidony’s eyes are sparkling with excitement, and Achilles is eyeing it thoughtfully.

“It would suit the undertones of your skin nicely,” he agrees. “It would help keep your hair from totally washing you out.”

All right, all right! I get it, I know nothing. I can’t be too irritated or hurt though, because Sidony looks so thrilled to be in this beautiful store. And Achilles seems to knowexactlywhat he’s talking about. Surely they can make up for everything I lack.

“I guess I can try it on,” I hedge.

“Don’t be too troubled about the fit,” Achilles says. “We’ll take everything to the tailor after this.”

Wait, is he saying these clothes will essentially be made just for me? “H-How much will all this cost?” I ask, before I catch myself. Raleigh the mafia princess wouldn’t care about the price, and she’d expect nothing but the best quality.

Achilles looks down his nose at me like I’ve just spit on his shoe. “Excuse me?”

I swallow and quickly add, “I mean, it’s a nice gesture,really,” letting my eyes trail down his fine suit to keep up the act. I’ve only caught the barest glimpse of the inside of his closet back at Wesley Hall, but I should’ve taken it to heart.

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