You never really expected to be put in this position. It was a union between the Kent family and the Wayne family, for the betterment of Metropolis, Blüdhaven and Gotham. Bruce Wayne’s eldest son, Dick Grayson— the newly appointed boss, and you, Clark’s most prized possession, his daughter. He’d been proclaimed the boss on your wedding day, but you never wanted to get married, you’d wanted to prove yourself, head the Kent family’s mafia, but instead you were pawned off as a wife. You never expect him to be so charming, gentlemanly, dizzying, make you feel intoxicated with one touch or a warm smile. You’d had yet to consummate, though.

Dick was a gentle leader outside the blood and bonds, but if it came to it, he’d make the strongest man kneel. It was almost unnatural, with the way he’d kissed your ring after he slipped it on your finger, but not so much when you recounted how he kissed you. It’d been a month since.

Dizzying. Intoxicating.

“Leave us.” His voice was quiet but firm, ordering your maids and bodyguards to leave— no one dared to harm you when he was here. He couldn’t help but appreciate you— fuck, your beauty made him feel drunk on you. He was powerful, but he’d drop to his knees if you told him to.

You were his queen, after all.

Dick hummed, tilting his head and smiling, adjusting the sleeves of his rolled button up, wondering how to start the conversation — think Grayson, think — standing there looking at perfection personified. Alright, just play this right. “Have you settled in well, bella?”

Did he know what he was doing? No. He didn’t exactly get training in the mafia on how to handle an arranged wife, did he? No. But at least he was being considerate, that at least earned some brownie points. At least, he thought that did. He hoped it did. Yeah, let’s put it that way.