Page 23 of Arranged with Twins

Leo

I stand in the doorway watching Sienna retch into my toilet, and my mind processes details with mechanical precision. The timeline becomes crystal clear as I connect symptoms I should have noticed weeks ago.

Her refusal of wine at dinner tonight, the way she pushed food around her plate without eating, and the exhaustion that’s been evident in her face for days, revealed by shadows under her eyes.

Finally, her breasts are fuller and more sensitive than they were nine weeks ago when we first made love. All the clues lead to one conclusion.

The math is simple, brutal, and undeniable. We had unprotected sex nine weeks ago, and she’s now pregnant with my child.

The realization should terrify me. Instead, it settles in my chest with the weight of inevitability, like a chess move I should have seen coming but somehow missed until the pieces were already in position.

I watch her lean back against the cool tile wall, her face pale and drawn.

She looks young, vulnerable, and completely unprepared for the conversation we’re about to have.

Part of me wants to give her time to recover, to process this revelation in private before we dissect what it means for both our futures, but the larger part of me knows we can’t afford that luxury.

“Sienna.” I keep my voice soft, though my mind races through implications and consequences. “We need to talk.”

She doesn’t respond immediately as she closes her eyes and takes slow, careful breaths.

When she finally moves from the wall to the sink, her hands shake as she rinses her mouth and splashes cold water on her face.

She’s clearly bracing herself for what comes next, and the recognition that she might be afraid of me makes something twist painfully in my chest.

“How long have you known?” I lean against the doorframe, giving her space while making it clear leaving isn’t an option until we’ve discussed this.

“Known what exactly?” She meets my stare in the bathroom mirror, but her voice lacks conviction. We both know what I’m asking.

“Don’t.” The word comes out sharply. “Don’t make me say it. Don’t pretend you don’t understand what I’m talking about.”

Her shoulders sag in defeat. “I found out two days ago.”

Two days. She’s known for two days that she’s carrying my child, and she said nothing. Not during our public dinner, not while someone was trying to kill us, and not while we were making love in my bed twenty minutes ago. “Have you told your parents?”

“No.” She turns to face me directly, chin lifting with familiar defiance. “I haven’t told anyone except Nadia.”

“Good.” The response comes immediately and instinctively. “No one else can know. Not yet.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice carries a dangerous edge that I recognize as a warning. “You don’t get to decide who I tell about my own pregnancy.”

“Our pregnancy.” I step into the bathroom, closing the distance between us. “And yes, I absolutely get to decide who knows until we figure out how to handle this safely.”

The control in my tone is undeniable, but underneath it runs something I can’t quite hide. Fear. Not fear of becoming a father or the responsibility that comes with it, but fear of what this makes her and makes us together, completely vulnerable in a way I’ve never experienced.

For the first time since my parents died, I have something to lose that matters more than power, more than territory, and more than the empire I’ve spent twenty years building.

Sienna was already a weakness Adrian could exploit.

Now she’s carrying my heir, my legacy, and the future of everything I’ve built.

She’s become irreplaceable in ways that terrify me.

“Everything is different now,” I say, more to myself than to her.

“I know that.” Her voice softens slightly as exhaustion replaces anger. “Why do you think I waited two days to tell you? I needed time to figure out what this means before you started making decisions for me.”

The admission stings because it’s accurate.

I am already making decisions, calculating security protocols and threat assessments while she’s still coming to terms with the biological reality of pregnancy.

“We need to be more careful.” I move closer, drawn by the urge to touch her, as if to confirm she’s real, safe, and here with me.

“Security around you will need to be tripled immediately.”

“Tripled?” She backs away until she hits the sink, trapped between porcelain and my advancing presence. “Leo, I already have enough protection to invade a small country. What more could you possibly need?”

“You don’t understand.” I place my hands on either side of her, caging her against the sink while trying to make her comprehend the danger. “Pregnant women in my world become targets, and not just for leverage, but for elimination.”

Her face goes white. “Elimination? What the hell are you talking about?”

I nod slowly. “It’s true, darling. Rival families don’t just kill their enemies, Sienna.

They erase bloodlines. They eliminate future threats before they can grow strong enough to seek revenge.

” I watch fear replace confusion in her expression, hating that I’m the one putting it there.

“A child makes you vulnerable in ways you can’t imagine. ”

“Stop.” She pushes against my chest, needing space to breathe. “Just stop for a minute.”

I step back, giving her room while studying her reaction. She wraps her arms around herself protectively, a gesture that’s probably unconscious but speaks to the maternal instincts already developing.

“You’re exhausted.” The observation comes out gentler than my previous words. “You should sleep. We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”

“In your bed?” The question carries no seduction. Just weary resignation.

“Yes. You’re staying here now.” I don’t phrase it as a request because it isn’t one.

“At least until we can upgrade security at your apartment.” That’s a small concession that I hope to avoid if at all possible.

I’ll sleep better if she’s under my roof, but I can’t lock her up and throw away the key.

I would if I could, but I’m smart enough not to admit that to her.

She opens her mouth to argue, then seems to remember everything that’s happened tonight.

The attack at the Ritz, the revelation about Adrian, and now the pregnancy that changes all our calculations stills her instinctive protest. “Fine.” She moves past me toward the bedroom, shoulders straight despite her obvious exhaustion.

“We’re not done discussing this, but it can wait. ”

“I know.”

I watch her climb into my bed a few minutes later, wearing one of my shirts. Her small form barely makes a dent in the king-sized mattress. Within minutes, her breathing evens out into the rhythm of sleep, but I remain awake, sitting in the chair beside the bed like a sentinel.

In the dim light filtering through the curtains, I study her face, trying to reconcile this sleeping woman with the magnitude of what she represents.

Three months ago, she was an obligation and nothing more than a debt to be paid to her father for past kindness.

Tonight, she’s become the center of everything that matters.

I think about my own father, dead before I reached adulthood, and wonder what kind of parent I’ll become. Will I be like him, teaching strategy and survival above all else? Or will I somehow find a way to give this child the security I never had without suffocating them with protection?

The questions multiply in the darkness, each one more complex than the last. How do I raise an heir in a world built on violence while keeping them innocent long enough to choose their own path?

How do I protect Sienna through pregnancy without making her feel like a prisoner?

How do I prepare for threats I can’t yet imagine?

Dawn breaks over Manhattan before I finally allow myself to sleep, and even then, my dreams are filled with faceless enemies and imagined dangers.

I wake to find Sienna already up. She stands at the windows with what smells like some kind of herbal tea in her hands while watching the city come alive below us.

She’s dressed in clothes from yesterday with her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail that makes her look younger than her twenty-six years.

“Good morning.” I sit up, noting how she doesn’t turn around when I speak. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my entire life just changed overnight.” She takes a sip of tea, then makes a face and sets aside the mug. Clearly, herbal tea is no more agreeable to her senses than coffee right now. “I suppose that’s accurate, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Is the tea bothering you?”

“Everything’s bothering me. Smells, tastes, and textures I used to love make me want to gag now.” She finally turns to face me, and I see the fear she’s trying to hide behind practical concerns. “How am I supposed to hide this from my parents when I can’t even drink coffee without getting sick?”

The question brings us back to immediate logistics. “ Stress can cause similar symptoms. They’ll accept that explanation for now, and it’s not like you live with them.”

“Right.” She sighs harshly. “They probably won’t even notice anyway, at least not for a while. What about in a month though? Or two months? When I start showing?”

“We’ll deal with those scenarios as they arise.” I stand and move toward her, drawn by the vulnerability in her voice. “Right now, our priority is keeping you safe, so it’s better if no one else knows besides you, me, Nadia, and Ilya.”

She quirks a brow. “Ilya?”

I nod. “He’s my head of security and my second in command…Sovietnik. He has to know about any vulnerabilities, but he’s discreet. He’ll understand our priority.”

“Our priority?” Her laugh holds no humor. “Or your priority?”

“Both. They’re the same thing now.”