Bound To My Mafia Stepuncle

“You’re leaving tonight,” her father said firmly, his fork clinking against the porcelain plate. He didn’t even look up when he said it, as if her life was a matter decided without the need for her opinion. “Your uncle has agreed to take you in. The car will be here by eight.”

For a moment, Aaira thought she had misheard him. But the stern look on his face told her she heard him correctly. Her spoon slipped from her fingers, landing in her soup with a small splash that stained the edge of her sleeve.

“Leaving?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Papa, what do you mean? Tonight?”

Finally, her father raised his eyes, sharp and unyielding. The lines on his face seemed deeper than usual, his mouth set in a grim line. “You’re not a child anymore, Aaira. It’s time you learned to live outside these walls. Your uncle will give you discipline, structure, and exposure to the real world. You need to see more of the world”. 

More of the real world? She has lived all her life under her father's wing. She didn't know anything about the outside world. Her father had her homeschooled, so the world revolved around the supermarket and home. 

 She had known nothing but the safety of this home, the gentle guidance of her tutors, and the quiet routine her parents insisted upon. The world beyond the gates had always been described as dangerous, filled with things she was better off not knowing.

And now, she was being sent into it, alone.

She turned desperately to her mother, who sat stiff and pale beside her husband. “Mama… you can’t be serious. I don’t even know him. I’ve only seen Uncle Keiran twice in my whole life. He…he’s practically a stranger.”

Her mother’s lips parted, but her father cut her off with a raised hand. “Enough, Aaira. This is not a debate.”

Her stomach churned, a sick knot forming as the weight of his words pressed down on her. She had heard whispers about Uncle Keiran, rumors exchanged by servants when they thought she wasn’t listening. That he owned Chicago. That women came and went from his house at odd hours. That his business dealings were… questionable.

Her father’s stern gaze bore into her, leaving no room for protest. “You will go. Tonight. End of discussion.”

~~~

Later that night, she sat on the edge of her bed, her small suitcase resting beside her. Every familiar corner of her room, the lace curtains, the shelves of unread novels, the little porcelain figurines she had collected since childhood, suddenly felt like pieces of a life being ripped away.

Her mother came in silently, hands wringing a handkerchief. She fussed over Aaira’s folded clothes, smoothed the wrinkles in her dress, and tucked a small silver locket into her palm. “Keep this with you,” she whispered. “No matter what happens. And always remember to uphold the values your father and I have taught you.”

Aaira wanted to ask why her mother looked so guilty, why her eyes shone with tears she never let fall. But before she could, the low rumble of an engine outside cut through the silence.

“ Mama…” she choked on a sob..”You can't really be sending me away. I don't want to live with Uncle Keiran, mama. He's not a good person.’ 

“You don't know that.” Her mother's voice came out in a soft whisper. 

“But I do. You and Papa talk about him when you think I'm not listening. Even my tutor speaks of him. He's a dangerous man. How could you send me there?” 

Before her mother could reply,her father’s voice echoed from the hallway. “The car is here.”

Aaira’s breath caught. Through her window she could see the sleek black sedan parked by the gate, headlights casting a harsh glow across the driveway. A man in a dark suit stood by the passenger door, waiting.

Her mother pressed a trembling kiss to her forehead. “Be good, my darling,” she said softly, though her eyes betrayed something that felt like regret. “Keiran is a good man. He will treat you well.” 

Moments later, Aaira found herself being ushered out of her home, her suitcase taken from her hands. The car door opened, and the scent of leather and gasoline rushed at her as she slid onto the seat.

The engine roared to life, and as the gates of her childhood home closed behind her, Aaira couldn’t shake the chilling thought that she wasn’t just leaving her sheltered world, she was being delivered straight into the darkness.

And waiting in that darkness was her uncle. 

The car glided smoothly onto the main road, the night stretching endlessly beyond the tinted windows. Aaira pressed her hands into her lap, clutching her mother’s locket so tightly that the edges dug into her skin.

Silence filled the car for several minutes, broken only by the steady hum of the engine. Finally, the man driving cleared his throat.

“You must be Aaira.” His voice was low, rough, carrying the weight of someone who wasn’t used to speaking gently. “You’re even more shy than your uncle predicted.” 

She turned her head slightly, studying him from the corner of her eye. He was broad-shouldered, with thick hands gripping the steering wheel, a jagged scar cutting across his jawline. In the dim light, he looked more like an enforcer than a driver , someone who could break bones as easily as he handled the gears.

Her throat went dry. “Yes,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I'm Aaira.”

The man glanced at her through the rearview mirror, and surprisingly, there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes. “Name’s Cameron,” he said, almost casually. “Don’t be nervous. I know he can seem… intimidating, but he’s not all bad. Your uncle, I mean.”

Aaira blinked, startled by his attempt to comfort her. She wasn’t sure if the reassurance made her feel better or worse.

“I don’t really know him,” she admitted softly, staring out the window at the blur of passing lights. “I don’t know what to expect.”

Cameron gave a small chuckle that sounded more like a sigh. “That might be a good thing. Best not to expect anything when it comes to Keiran. He is anything but predictable.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine. Mason must have noticed, because his tone softened. “But don’t worry. He wouldn't have accepted you if he did not want you. And he always takes care of what's his.”

Aaira frowned, the words knotting in her stomach. What’s his? She didn’t like the sound of that.

The car continued deeper into the night, the city lights fading into shadows as they headed toward the outskirts. Aaira’s pulse quickened with every mile, the weight of Cameron's words lingering in her ears.

Mansions dotted the hillside, but Cameron drove past them all until finally, the car turned onto a long, winding drive lined with tall iron gates.

The gates opened without hesitation, as if her arrival had been anticipated.

Aaira’s breath caught in her throat when the estate came into view. The house was enormous, its sharp angles and towering windows glowing faintly against the night sky. It was beautiful in that cold, intimidating kind of way. The kind of place where secrets lingered behind every locked door.

Cameron pulled up to the entrance and got out first. He opened her door with surprising gentleness, offering a hand. “Come on. He’ll waiting for you.”

Her pulse quickened as she followed him inside. The marble floors gleamed beneath her shoes, and the air carried the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with smoke. Servants passed silently in the hallways, their eyes lowered, as if even looking too long might invite trouble.

Cameron led her through the maze-like corridors until finally, he stopped in front of a pair of heavy oak doors.

“He’s in here,” he said, pushing them open.

The office was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners. A single lamp on the desk cast a golden glow over the man seated behind it. He didn’t look up immediately, his attention fixed on the glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching the light.

When he finally raised his head, Aaira froze.

“Welcome home, Aaira.”