Page 24 of Arranged with Twins
The admission is more meaningful than any declaration of love or commitment. We both understand what I’m really saying. Her safety has become more important than my own and protecting her and our child will drive every decision I make from this point forward.
“I had plans.” Her voice is quiet, almost lost. “I was going to apply for fashion programs or maybe start my own business. When I turned thirty and got control of my trust fund, I was going to travel more and experience things my parents never allowed.”
“You still can.” The words come out before I fully consider their truth. “Having a child doesn’t mean abandoning your dreams.”
“Doesn’t it?” She meets my stare directly. “How do I build a career when I’m in a merger with someone whose enemies want to eliminate his bloodline? How do I travel when leaving your protection means risking not just my life, but our baby’s?”
The questions are valid and impossible to answer with easy reassurances.
The truth is that marrying me does limit her options, pregnancy or not.
Adding a child to the equation narrows those possibilities even further.
“I don’t know.” The admission comes reluctantly, “But we’ll find ways to give you choices and build something that works for both of us. ”
“Will we?” She searches my face for something, hope maybe, or at least honesty. “Or will you make decisions based on what you think is safest, regardless of what I want?”
The accusation stings because it’s probably accurate. My instinct is to lock her away somewhere secure until this pregnancy is over and our child is old enough to defend themselves. The rational part of my mind knows that approach will destroy any relationship we might build.
“I’m trying to balance keeping you alive with respecting your autonomy.” I reach for her hand, relieved when she doesn’t pull away. “It’s not an easy balance to strike.”
“I know.” She tightens her fingers around mine. “I’m scared, Leo, and not just of Adrian or the danger, but of losing myself completely in all this.”
The quiver in her voice makes my chest ache. “What would help? What do you need from me?”
“Information and honesty about what we’re facing.” She steps closer. “Perhaps just some sense that I’m your partner in this, not someone you’re protecting.”
“You are my partner.” The words come naturally, and I speak them from somewhere inside that is on board with giving her the full truth. “In this, in raising our child, and whatever we do next.”
“Then prove it.” Her chin lifts with familiar determination. “Start by teaching me to defend myself properly.”
The request surprises me. “Sienna?—”
“You said pregnant women become targets. Fine. Then teach me how to be a target who can fight back.” Her voice grows stronger as she speaks. “I refuse to be helpless, no matter how much security you surround me with.”
The idea of putting a weapon in her hands while she’s carrying our child should horrify me. Instead, I consider the logic of her argument. If she’s going to be in danger regardless, it’s better that she knows how to respond.
“All right.” The decision feels both right and terrifying. “We do this properly though. I want you in a controlled environment without taking unnecessary risks.”
“Agreed.” She smiles for the first time since last night, and the transformation is remarkable. “When do we start?”
“Now.” I glance at the clock, calculating schedules and security arrangements. This is more important than anything else on my calendar. “I’ll have Ilya clear the training facility downstairs.”
An hour later, we stand in my private gymnasium, a space most people never see. The room is equipped with everything needed for serious physical training, including weights, mats, and a shooting range that meets competition standards.
I place a Glock 19 in Sienna’s hands, watching her reaction carefully. She holds the weapon with appropriate respect, not the fear I expected.
“Have you ever fired a gun?” I position myself behind her, covering her hands with mine to demonstrate proper grip.
“Once. My father took me to a shooting range when I was sixteen. He said every Cooper should know how to handle firearms, though I didn’t realize at the time he wasn’t just a businessman.” She adjusts her stance according to my guidance. “I wasn’t terrible at it.”
“Good. That’ll make this easier.” I guide her through the basics, reminding her about sight alignment, trigger control, and breathing techniques. “The goal isn’t to make you a marksman overnight. It’s to give you options if you’re ever cornered.”
“Options.” She repeats the word thoughtfully. “I like having options.”
We work through basic drills for thirty minutes, and her natural coordination makes up for lack of experience.
When she successfully puts three shots in the center ring of a target at fifteen yards, pride makes my chest constrict.
I clear my throat to ease the pressure. “Better?” I ask as we return the gun to its case.
“Better.” She nods, then looks at me with a serious expression. “Leo, I need you to promise me something.”
I hesitate, not one to make a blind promise or give my word on something I can’t make happen. “What?”
“Promise me you won’t make major decisions about our future without talking to me first. I want to have real discussions about the wedding, where we live, and how we raise this child…
anything important in a shared life.” Her voice is steady but determined.
“I know you’re used to controlling everything, but this has to be a partnership, or it won’t work. ”
The request is reasonable, but it goes against every instinct I’ve developed since taking control of my organization.
Consultation takes time, creates opportunities for disagreement, and introduces variables I can’t control.
It’s also what she needs from me if we’re going to build something real together.
“I promise, as long as you promise to trust me when I say something is too dangerous.”
“Deal.” She extends her hand for a formal shake, and I take it, sealing an agreement that feels more binding than any contract I’ve ever signed.
Standing in my training facility with Sienna’s hand in mine, I realize everything I thought I knew about my future was wrong.
I’m not just acquiring a wife and fulfilling an obligation to her father.
I’m building a family and creating something worth protecting that extends far beyond business arrangements or strategic alliances.
The thought should terrify me, but instead, it fills me with fierce determination to protect what’s mine and appreciate the gift before me.