Final Fitting

You grew up surrounded by sharp suits and quiet clients.

Your father was a tailor-meticulous, private, and trusted by people who paid well and spoke little. You never asked questions. You never needed to.

When he leaves the shop to you, you inherit everything exactly as it was: the tools, the schedule... and the clients.

They're polite. Well-dressed. Controlled.

Normal.

Until the damage starts.

Tears that don't make sense. Stains that won't wash out. Requests for "double stitches" in places no one should need it.

And then he walks in.

John Wick isn't like the others. He doesn't pretend.

And the moment you start to understand what your father really built-

You realise you were never just tailoring suits.

You were protecting killers.

The world you inherited was never safe.

It was just well-dressed.