His Inheritance

Temptress

When you woke up the morning of the rehearsal dinner, the energy in Steve's house felt different. You were a pretty early riser but from the sounds beyond the walls of your bedroom, it sounded like things had been in progress for a while.

You'd just pulled on your robe when someone knocked at your door. You found Dyson on the other side, grinning and holding a tray with your breakfast. His smile was contagious.

"It's a big day," he told you. "Had Luca make you a special breakfast."

He certainly had. Eggs benedict, fresh fruit, toast with cherry preserves, fresh orange juice. There was even a crystal vase with three pink roses.

"Those are from Steve," he told you, nodding towards the vase.

Yeah, and you were still mad at him.

"No coffee?" You took the tray from him.

"I'll bring that up later," Dyson told you. "All them clothes they made for you are being delivered in about an hour."

"Thank you," you told him.

Carrying your breakfast over the vanity, you took a seat and tried to eat.

Rehearsal dinner. Rehearsal for the wedding. The wedding that you were participating in whether you liked it or not.

Blowing out an exhale, you pulled your phone out of your robe pocket and sent a text to Dyson.

Can I get a beer too?

No answer.

You took your time with breakfast, scrolling on your phone trying to keep your nerves at bay.

It was a little over an hour when there was another knock at your door. You expected it was Dyson with the clothes, hopefully, the beer. You didn't expect an entire line of people and stuff, marching into your room the minute you opened the door.

Dyson had knocked, the three stylists were behind him with a shiny silver rolling rack loaded with clothes. They made their way in, and you were grateful you'd gotten your shower in.

"The beer?" you asked Dyson.

He leaned in and spoke in a lowered voice. "It's not poker night. You don't need that. You need to get ready. Tonight's going to be really special."

You knew you pulled a face. The kind older man just laughed.

"It's not every day the boss gets married. All the family heads are coming. There's a chef making dinner, musicians. It's going to be really special and it's all for you."

It was a pretty story but...

When he didn't get a reaction to that, he shook his head. "Behave," he told you, making his way out. Luca brought up a coffee station for you and the stylists.

The stylists proceeded to have you try on every single, fucking outfit. And there were all the accessories to go with them. So many pairs of shoes. Stockings, garters, matching bra and panty sets. Lingerie. You tried on every piece for the approval of the three women who sat there congratulating themselves as if you were a two-dimensional paper doll.

You were so relieved once they left, hoping you had the rest of the afternoon to yourself.

Oh, no. You weren't that lucky.

More stylists showed up to do your hair, your makeup, your nails. Were you going to a rehearsal dinner or a runway?

Okay, you did look pretty amazing once they were finished. Sitting there in your robe and not ready yet to put on the modest blue dress the stylists picked out for you to wear to dinner.