Ava paused in the doorway, the familiar scent of cigar smoke and oakwood wrapping around her like a memory. For all its polished darkness, her uncle's study had always been a place where she felt more like family than anything else.
Romano looked up from behind his desk the moment she stepped in, and for the first time that night, Ava felt her chest loosen. He wasn't just the name that carried weight in every whisper across the city—he was the man who had taught her to ride a bike, the one who used to sneak her chocolate when her father thought she'd had enough.
"Ava, tesoro," he said warmly, standing to greet her. His voice, rough with years and smoke, softened when it was her name on his lips. He crossed the room and kissed her cheek, his hands steady on her shoulders. "Look at you. You're grown, and yet you still look at me like I'm about to scold you for breaking my glassware."
Ava smiled faintly. "To be fair, I did break a lot of your glassware."
His laugh filled the room, a deep, genuine sound that always made her feel safe. "That you did." He guided her to the chair opposite his, but this wasn't business. Not tonight. He poured her a glass of water, sat across from her, and leaned forward, his expression soft but shadowed.
"I called you here because I couldn't sleep," Romano said quietly. "There's trouble brewing with someone I'd hoped to never cross again. Another boss—volatile, greedy. The kind who strikes at family to send a message."
Ava stilled. "You think I'm in danger."
Romano's eyes locked on hers, dark and serious. "I don't think. I know." His hand covered hers across the table, firm and protective. "I've kept you away from all of this, Ava, and I'll keep doing so as long as I breathe. But I need you to be cautious. Don't walk alone at night. Don't trust anyone you don't already know. If something feels wrong, it probably is. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Uncle," she whispered, her throat tight.
His grip softened, thumb brushing her knuckles the way he had when she was a child. "Good girl. You're all I have left, Ava. Promise me you'll be careful."
The clock ticked gently in the background, the weight of his words pressing into her chest. For all his power and reputation, he was still her uncle, still the man who worried for her safety like any family would.
And in that moment, Ava realized something chilling: if his enemies knew how much she meant to him, then she wasn't just his blood. She was his weakness.