2. Blue-eyed Beauty
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
T his 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 av? 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.
“Does your grandfather know just how much of a vixen his granddaughter is?” he asked. I sucked in a breath. I had never been called a vixen before and hearing it from his lips about it made my heart pound.
“Have a lovely day," I said, holding the door open. Two men in black suits stood outside. They reminded me of the men from this morning. I wondered just how many people that I walked by on a daily basis were wolves in sheep’s clothing. They glanced at me then at Mr. Costa. Mr. Costa nodded.
“Bye Cinderella,” he said as he walked out. Once the door was shut and I was safely alone I sucked in a deep breath. Tears pricked my eyes as I wandered around the shop I grew up in. I loved this place. I loved my family.
And yet staring at the walls I helped decorate, everything felt like a lie. It was like the home I’ve known my entire life was covered in wallpaper decorated with warmth, lavender and love. But now it was ripped open to reveal a house filled with lies, broken bones and blood.
The fucking mafia. I kept repeating in my head. Everything made sense now. The secretive appointments, the amount of times I needed to stay in the back room or leave, the hush whispers behind closed doors. It all made sense now. How hadn’t I noticed any of it?
My hands began to shake. My throat tightened and my stomach threatened to throw up my breakfast. How could this be? My sweet av? working for murderers. Did they have something on him? Was it his choice? Like a house of cards crumbling beneath a gentle breeze my life was being swept from under me.
Staring at my phone I debated on calling him. He had answers to the questions taking root in my mind. But the business trip he was on was too important. It meant spreading the Silva name across seas.
In these moments I wished I still had my parents. I wished I had some kind of family to rely on. But my only source of truth and warmth was six hours across the Atlantic. My thoughts drifted back to Senhora Maria. Did she know?
Taking a deep breath I reminded myself that if he's been doing this for years so could I this one time. This would be the only time. I could keep up the pretense of knowing nothing and continue on with my days.
I would make Mr. Costa his suit and that would be the end of it. I didn’t need to be anymore involved then this one time and I was going to make sure my av? would no longer be either. Whatever agreement he had with the mafia was going to end one way or the other.
Shaking my head I got back to work. I had two pants to hem and one dress that needed extra lace before I could work on Mr. Costa’s suit. It was time to do what I did best.
Swallow the pain and stress and get shit done.
The next day I was working with a throbbing headache. The Gomes family needed all of their kids' pants to have alterations for their cousin's baptism for the weekend. My fingers were cramping and I skipped lunch. Again.
I could hardly sleep. My brain kept replaying nightmares. I was trapped in a tower in a torn gown with nothing but a broken mattress and a sewing machine. Men in dark suits with faces hidden beneath the shadows of moonlight were threatening me to make clothes.
I woke up in a cold sweat with my heart pounding in my chest. I would rather attempt to spin straw into gold than work for the mafia but somehow my av? trapped us in this situation. A situation that I was purposefully left in the dark about.
A glance out the window showed people bustling, leaves falling and a cool breeze blowing. Everyone seemed at ease. They were oblivious that the mafia was walking among them. Not aware that this tiny family owned shop worked for them. My hands trembled as I tried to sew the final stitch on Ms. Gomes' son's pants.
"Miss?" An easy voice called out. I flinched. I hadn’t even heard the bell chime because I was so focused. My vision focused on a tall, lean man with blonde wavy hair and blue eyes. He had an easy smile with dimples. He wore a dark blue dress shirt, tucked into gray pants.
My head tilted as I took in his clothes. Shirt was standard but the pants were molded across his legs. As he took a step inside they stretched across his thighs. They were most likely mainly polyester.
The door closed gently behind him as he walked through. He offered another smile as he made his way towards me with a model's grace. Two hot men in two days. That was definitely a record. I gave him a warm smile, the customer service mask turned on.
"Sorry! Spaced out a second. How may I help you?" I said as I made my way quickly behind the cash register to meet him.
"That’s okay. Are you new?” he asked. A bubble of laughter erupted out of me. No one had ever asked me that. Everyone knew everyone or knew someone who knew everyone in Loba Vista.
“I didn’t mean to laugh, sorry. This is my grandfather’s shop,” I said. His left eye twitched and recognition dawned on his face .
“You’re Lucia?” he asked softly. I blushed at his tone. It was a mix of gentle awe and surprise. I nodded politely.
“Wow. He’s always talked about you. How talented and beautiful you are. He was definitely right,” he said, moving to stand directly in front of me. I had to slightly tilt my head up to meet his eyes. He looked at me warmly. I bit the inside of my cheek. Staring at the man before me I would have definitely remembered if he had been in the shop.
But if he knew my av? well enough to know about me. Was he one of the clients I wasn’t supposed to know about? A dark feeling began crawling up my body.
“You haven’t seen my talent yet, only my beauty,” I pointed out. A smirk tugged on his lips before he dropped his elbows on the counter, cocking his head. Now we were eye level and I could see just how blue his eyes were. There were flecks of honey around the pupil; like a sunflower against a clear sky.
“If you work for Diogo you must be talented,” he said.
“Are you flirting with me?” I asked. His gaze traveled all over my face and my heart skipped. This man was ungodly attractive.
“This is me being me,” he said. I shook my head but then he leaned forward and I got a sniff of pine. Hot men who smell delicious might be a weakness I didn’t realize I had. I felt trapped in his gaze.
“If I was flirting with you, you wouldn’t be questioning it,” he said. I blushed furiously. Fuck, he was smooth.
“So how can I help you,” I said, redirecting the conversation. He leaned away and I could finally breathe.
“I’m here to pick up a suit,” he said. I nodded, pulling out a notebook that held all of the orders. “It’ll be under LB,” he said. I nodded, finding his name and order number. I excused myself to the back to find his suit. When I returned he was eyeing the window outside.
“Mr. LB here is your suit,” I said, handing it over. His chuckle was rough and it made my stomach tightened.
“LB are initials,” he said, as he took the suit from me. That dark feeling was back and crawling higher. I marked his order as picked up when I felt his breath on my ear. “It stands for Luca Benanti,” he whispered. Tendrils of shadows wrapped around my chest, making it harder to breathe. You have to be mother fucking kidding me.
"B-benanti?" I stuttered. He nodded. Double fuck. I clenched my jaw, trying to remain calm. I could not freak out on him. I could not let him see me lose my shit. I needed to be the picture of cool and collected. I had refused to let Mr. Costa see me break apart and Mr. Benanti wouldn’t either.
My eyes skated to him and he smiled warmly. I recognized his last name. If I remembered the rumors right Costa and Benanti were family or at least related somehow.
"He talks about you a lot," Mr. Benanti said, pulling away. I placed the notebook under the register to hide my fidgeting hands.
"Oh god. I hope it's not embarrassing," I said, squeezing my fingers. Why the fuck was my av? talking to the damn mafia about me?
"Oh no, nothing of the sort. He just mentions how proud he is of you," he said. He pushed a hair behind my ear like Mr. Costa did but with Mr. Benanti, it was a different thrill that went through me. I stared at him in surprise. This man belonged to a dangerous family and yet around him I felt like I was bathing in sunlight.
Oh dear god, was it going to be like those books I read where years ago my av? promised me in marriage to one of them? I wasn’t ready for marriage. I hadn’t even been on a date in two years.
“Well I’m glad and thank you so much for doing business with us,” I said, hoping he would take the hint to leave.
“It’s always a pleasure doing business with Silva’s Seamstress Shop,” he said.
Always. Just how deep was my av?’s relationship with the mafia?
The door dinged and I turned to greet the customer, grateful to get away from Mr. Benanti. But that greeting soured quickly.
"You're early," I said, glaring at Mr. Costa. I glanced at my watch. He was two hours early actually. Maybe with him already here I could close on time. He grunted, making his way over.
"I had some unexpected cancellations," Mr. Costa said. He was focused on Mr. Benanti who hadn't paid him any attention since he walked in .
"Well I'm with a customer. You can wait in the corner," I said, waving him towards a seat. Mr. Costa’s jaw locked in place and he raised an eyebrow. There was a soft chuckle from the blue-eyed beauty in front of me.
"I will not sit in the corner like a child," Mr. Costa said. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
"This attitude you walked in with resembles that of one," I said. Mr. Costa glared at me.
“Really? Because I walked in and you immediately glared at me,” he said. Mr. Benanti looked between us.
“You walked into this shop and glared at my customer first,” I said. Which was true. The second he stepped through this door and looked at Mr. Benanti his demeanor shifted. My statement must have sparked something because Mr. Costa’s fists clenched.
"I was just leaving, cousin," Mr. Benanti said casually. Before turning away he looked at me and said softly, "I'll be seeing you around."
“Thank you for trusting us with your order Luca ,” I said, sweetly. Mr. Benanti’s smile widened and he gave me a quick wink. He turned to walk away, his eyes meeting Mr. Costa’s. For a moment they stared at each other until he finally left.
“What a charming smile you gave him,” Mr. Costa said through gritted teeth. I went to grab the fabric to cut his suit.
"He’s a paying customer," I said. He grunted again. I spread the fabric across my work table and reached for my scissors.
“Even if he’s in the mafia?” he asked. I clutched the scissors in my hands and looked into Mr. Costa’s eyes. A quick thought raced through me as I held onto the scissors. He peered at my hand. The corner of his lips twitched as he fought back what I assumed was a smirk.
“Well you’re still here aren’t you?” I fired back. There was a spark in his gaze. I needed to stop being so damn interesting. "Listen, I've been busy so I'll be cutting your suit now. You're going to have to wait before I get you to try it on," I said. He nodded in understanding. I sighed. If he could stay silent we would have no problems.
He took a seat by the shoes and pulled out his phone. I smiled to myself. He ended up in the corner just like I told him.
I concentrated on measuring the fabric and cutting out the pattern pieces. I decided to go with a black tweed fabric. It felt right given the current weather. Most people went with velvet or standard cotton.
But this suit was for a charity ball. One of the most famous ones in our city. The event was going to be crawling with the rich of the rich. A black tweed suit would make him seem sophisticated and give him the old money look that he oozed.
As for the lining I was going to hold off for now. I hadn’t found the right pattern to match. Halfway through cutting my hands began to shake. The headache was pounding now. I knew I shouldn’t have skipped lunch again. I felt Dante's eyes on me.
"Is everything-" before he could finish his sentence my stomach growled. His eyebrows shot up and his lips twitched. "Hungry Cinderella?" he teased. I sat back and mumbled a yeah. There was no point in denying it. He shook his head. "Didn't you eat lunch?"
Looking over at him, I stretched my arms, taking a calming breath. He was sitting in the chair, legs spread out. His thighs stretch against his navy slacks. His button up black shirt was practically painted on his chest. Definitely another custom made piece.
God, he was exquisite. The same itching feeling in my fingers came alive. But my stomach conquered the urge to sew. His full lips were twisted in a lopsided grin.
"No. I was busy," I said. His gaze hardened and he pulled out his phone.
"I'll order food. You shouldn't be skipping meals," he said.
“Obviously. But if you haven’t noticed I have a lot of work including a suit that I have barely three days to put together,” I said. He ignored my sassy remark and kept scrolling through his phone.
"What do you want?" he asked. Looking at him I was tempted to say something that would ensure a flirtatious response. And it was appealing enough that I couldn't stop myself from saying it.
"Anything but Italian," I said. He smirked, shaking his head. I stretched my fingers and went back to finishing cutting the fabric. I could have sworn I heard him say, for now.