It took nearly a week for Tony to get the nerve to broach the topic with your family. While you and Peter were old enough to have lives of your own, Pepper liked you all to have dinner together as often as possible. You hadn't thought anything of it when she requested a family meal, but perhaps you should have. You couldn't remember the last time it had been so silent in the house. Something was bothering Tony and you all knew it was better to just let him stew until he decided it was time to talk.

Finally, he interrupted the rhythmic clinking of silverware with a sigh as he sat his fork down. He took a long drink of his wine. "Alright. It's time to talk." His gaze swept over the table before landing on Peter. "I had meeting with Rogers. He wants assurances of our loyalties."

Peter snorted and rolled his eyes. "What? He wants us to swear an oath or something?"

Tony pursed his lips. "No. He wants Roman to marry Morgan."

Well, you hadn't expected that. It was rather medieval of him. Huh. You wondered why Tony agreed to it. Steve must have been angrier than usual. A glance at Pepper showed she'd already been aware and she wasn't happy. You leaned back in your chair and watched as your overdramatic brother jumped to his feet. His chair scraped against the tile.

"No fucking way, Tony. You can't just sell her off like property."

Morgan's lips were pressed into a thin line but she said nothing, letting Peter fight her battles like usual. She had a mouth but not around your father. No, when Tony was around, she was the perfect angel.

"Watch your mouth in front of your mother," Tony automatically corrected Peter. "And sit down."

When he hesitated, Tony lifted a brow. "Now."

Once Peter had dropped back into his chair, Tony leaned forward. "This is business. Morgan doing her part for the family."

Peter's jaw clenched, his face contorted in his anger. "There has to be another way. Roman's a raging asshole."

You huffed a laugh. Well, that was true enough. Tony shot you a chastising look before putting his attention back on the family hothead.

"Enough, Peter. This is the price to be paid for your indiscretions. Rogers fears you're reaching above your station. Making us family is his was to secure your allegiance. Stop pissing in other people's pools and we wouldn't be having this discussion."

Your brother visibly slumped in his seat with the admonishment. He'd been warned more times than you could count about his temper but now his beloved little sister was paying the price. That had to be a harsh blow for him. Sucks to suck, you guess.

You sipped your wine and waited for everything to finish playing out. You'd fix this just like you always did.

Morgan's fingers clutched the stem of her water glass. Her wide eyes darted between your parents before flicking over to Peter. He gave her a subtle nod, telling her to speak up. "Roman is older than me. And he has a reputation. Everyone knows what he's like."

"Your point?" Tony prodded. Pepper laid a hand on his arm reminding him to be patient.

Morgan swallowed. "He sleeps with anything that moves. And he's always starting fights. He's mean. I hate him."

"A lot of people hate their spouses, princess. You'll get used to it." Tony lifted Pepper's hand and kissed the back of it to assure her she was an exception.

You outright laughed at the insulted expression on your sister's face. When Tony glanced at you, you smirked. "That was kind of harsh, Dad."

Tony leaned back and mirrored your smirk. "And what do you have to add to the conversation, sweetheart?"

Morgan huffed in irritation at the tone he used when he addressed you. Your relationship with your father was drastically different than hers. For one you had over a decade on her sixteen years. For another you were around before anyone else, even Pepper. He adopted you when the parents you didn't remember died in a crash. For years it was just the two of you. And you were the one he trained to take over the company. Your dynamic was completely different.

"Did our illustrious king of the city ever actually state which daughter he wanted?"

You didn't miss the hope that flashed on the rest of your family's faces save Tony. Once again, you were offering a solution to their problems. You were good at it. Its why your dad wanted you to take over despite Peter sharing his creative interests.

Tony's gaze turned calculating. "He didn't specify," he admitted after a moment. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out where you were going with this. You didn't want to marry Roman any more than Morgan did.

"Interesting." You ran a finger along the fabric of the tablecloth as you thought. "Then perhaps it should be me."

He immediately shook his head in denial. "Absolutely not. You're too valuable for me to turn over to Rogers."

Morgan's chair scraped against the floor, her voice a blend of anger and pain. "And I'm not?"

"That's not what he meant, baby," Pepper said in an attempt to soothe the hurt.

You turned your attention to your little sister. "You're his princess. Trust me, he figured he had four years or so to find you a way out of it. He won't have that luxury with me. Besides, he doesn't want to go through the effort of training anyone else to take over for him."

After a confirming nod from her father, Morgan calmed and sat back down.

"I can take over for him," Peter said.

Tony blinked at him. "No."

You grinned at Pete's annoyance. Tony's dark eyes met yours in a silent standoff, willing you to give in. But if there was one thing you'd gotten from your father, it was your stubbornness. With a resigned sigh, he gave the nod that sealed Roman's fate. Steve Rogers would get more than he'd counted on when he made this deal.

"Fine. We'll do it your way."

Peter's grip tightened on his fork, knuckles going white. He looked ready to protest on your behalf now but a glance in your direction kept him in his seat. Smart boy.

Tony lifted his glass. "To the future Mrs. Carter." He drained his wine with a sour expression.

You crinkled your nose in annoyance. "No. I don't like it. He'll become a Stark."

Pepper chuckled. "You think you can order Roman Carter to take your name and he'll just do it?"

You shrugged one shoulder. "No, but Rogers can. I'll make it part of the contract."

"Contract?" Peter asked.

"Like Daddy said, it's a business transaction. I'll have everything written out and signed before I even think of walking down the aisle."

Your brother tilted his head to study you. "You have this all figured out don't you?"

"Not all of it. Not yet, but I will."

***

You drove yourself to the Rogers estate the next day. You parked on the curved drive in front of the house. The front door opened before you even reached it. A man you recognized as Sam Wilson leaned against the frame making no secret of taking in your form from head to toe. Evidently liking what he saw, he grinned. You couldn't help but return the smile. He was so pretty after all.

"And how can I help you today, pretty lady?"

"Would you please inform Mr. Rogers that Tony Stark's daughter is here to see him?"

A look of surprise flashed across his face before he gestured for you to step inside. He shut the door behind you. "Wait here."

Left alone in the entrance hall, you surveyed your surroundings. The house was nice but cold. You saw none of the little touches that would make it a home instead of a showpiece. You weren't impressed.

Sam reappeared with a smile. "This way," he said with a gesture.

The door he led you to was only a short distance down the hall. He opened it without knocking and motioned for you to enter, remaining in the hall when he closed the door. Your gaze ran across the expanse of soft leather and dark wood. Books lined the walls and Steve Rogers sat at a large desk with his head bent over papers as he read.

You were content to remain silent and use the opportunity to size him up. You'd seen him before, of course, but typically from a distance. His blue suit jacket hung on the rack behind his desk. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing a couple of tattoos on his forearms. His shoulders were broader than you would have guessed but it was his hands that drew your eyes as he made a note in the margin of his work.

He glanced up as he finished and his double-take had you smiling. He tossed the pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair as he looked you over. If Sam was pretty, Steve Rogers was gorgeous. His neatly trimmed beard had you wanting to run your fingers through it before you traced his soft lips. You shook your head slightly. What. The. Fuck. What was wrong with you? It wasn't like you to fall for a handsome face. At least not so quickly. You cleared your throat which seemed to snap Rogers out of whatever daze he was in as well.

"You're not sixteen," he said by way of greeting.

"I am not," you agreed before introducing yourself. "The eldest Stark daughter."

He hummed. "I forgot Tony had two girls." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.

You sat, leaning forward in anticipation of the coming conversation. "I'm to inform you that as you didn't specify, I will be the one marrying your son."

"Stepson," he corrected automatically before running his eyes over you again. The weight of his gaze felt like a physical caress and you suppressed a shiver.

You waited for any hint of surprise or disapproval, but he just continued to look at you with an intensity that suggested he was seeing more than a Stark daughter or a future daughter-in-law. He was as if he saw you—as if you were the only person in the world that mattered. And wasn't that a heady feeling. Despite the reason for your presence, you couldn't help but wonder about the man sitting across from you and this connection that sparked to life in mere seconds.

"Why you instead of Morgan?" Steve finally asked.

"To be blunt, Mr. Rogers, Roman is an asshole. Most of the time I won't give a shit what he does. But if he crosses me I will put him place without hesitation."

His eyes lingered on your face, taking in every contour as if committing it to memory. Then, slowly, a smile dawned upon his features. A smile of recognition, perhaps even respect. "Understood. I wouldn't expect anything less from Stark's daughter."

"Very well then," you said as you stood. "We'll arrange a time for us to get together and go over the specifics."

***

Steve nodded and watched as you moved to leave. You paused at the door to give one last glance over your shoulder and he huffed out a breath as you shut the door behind you. His shoulders slumped as tension flowed from him and he ran a hand down his face. Holy shit. You were not at all what he was expecting when Sam announced your arrival.

The air seemed cooler now, or perhaps it was simply the absence of your presence. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a visceral reaction to a woman. He stood and went to the window with the best view of the drive. You slid behind the wheel of your car without noticing him. A smirk played on his lips, his thoughts on the fire behind your eyes, a testament to your spirit. Steve admired that—more than he should given the circumstances.

"Trouble," he muttered. You were going to bring so much chaos. The thought should be unwelcome, but it was anything but. Roman wouldn't know what to do with you. But Steve...

Steve could think of so many wonderful, fabulous things he would like to do with you.