His Inheritance

A Charade

"Good morning," his voice was a low purr in your ear, pulling you from an uneasy sleep.

Your gaze landed on the ring on your finger first, the sapphire just a couple of shades darker than Steve's eyes.

When you glanced up, you found him sitting on the edge of your bed. The muted gray morning light filtering in through the windows couldn't hide how tired he looked. Was he still wearing the same clothes from last night?

One large hand smoothed over your shoulder, his touch warm through the thin sleeve of your nightgown. His gaze moving over your lips made you wonder if he was remembering the kiss you shared last night too.

"Did you sleep at all?" Steve asked quietly.

You shook your head. Fear of the unknown kept you from doing anything but dozing off here and there. You'd heard the voices and steps of his men on the stairs beyond your room all night, a couple of times you'd heard shouting outside, saw the beams from flashlights through your window.

"Is Clint okay?" you asked him. You didn't know the man, but he'd been kind to you.

Steve's gaze dropped, he nodded. "It didn't look good at first, but he's going to make it."

You remember the glances exchanged between Clint and Natasha last night when Steve and her husband were out of the room. There was something between them. Was Natasha out of her mind with worry right now?

"I'm going to keep extra men here at the house until the wedding," Steve explained, his expression sober. "There's no reason to believe right now that you're in any danger, but I don't want to be careless here."

What did that even mean?

You tried not to dwell on the situation. Were you in danger because you were being forced to marry the mob boss? Because of who your father was?

Trying to push it out of your mind, you sighed. You tried to ignore how good that possessive touch on your shoulder felt. Your eyes were still blurry from sleep, but you glanced up at him.

"The stylists are coming back in a couple of hours," Steve told you, smiling. "Dyson is going to give you away?"

"I don't have anyone else," you reminded him.

The smile faded, but he wasn't giving up. "Nat and a couple of her friends are going to be in your bridal party. I'm vetting the three of them from families I know. The stylists are stopping at Nat's first to do those fittings and then they'll be here."

You didn't know Nat's friends. You barely knew her though you hoped she was okay right now.

"Nat's a good sister," Steve told you. "She'll be a good sister to you too."

You hoped so. At least you'd have someone there for you besides Dyson who you could talk to, who would understand. Just maybe you'd be a confidant for her too if she needed one.

You nodded, not knowing what to say to that.

"Give any thought to what I asked you last night?" Steve pushed on.

Which part? Obeying him? Giving him a chance?

"It won't always be like this," Steve told you, moving his hand from his shoulder to the bed behind you. He leaned close, his lips close to yours. While you were pretty sure he was wearing the same clothes from last night, you could smell the mint of his toothpaste. "Once we're married, once I've taken control of the families, things will settle. Things will seem a lot less like a military state."

"What will it be like?" you had to ask. Would you be able to leave the house? Go places? Even the monthly trips you were allowed to take when your father still lived involved you leaving at night until you reached New York City.