Page 29 of Arranged with Twins

Leo

I sit behind my office desk, fingers steepled as I wait for Vincent Cooper to arrive.

The polished conference table displays financial reports and shipping manifests like a parade of damning accusations Everything about this meeting is designed to put Vincent at a disadvantage and remind him that he’s entering my territory.

Sienna returned to her apartment three days ago with a doubled security detail, though I’ve seen her every day since.

The transition back to her own space was necessary for maintaining some semblance of her routine, but I miss having her close enough to touch whenever I want.

Loving her makes it difficult to endure the separation, but I can’t lock her up or force her to stay at my penthouse.

My assistant announces Vincent’s arrival precisely at nine o’clock. When he enters my office, I study his appearance carefully. He looks older than his fifty-eight years, with deep lines around his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that speaks to sleepless nights and mounting pressure.

“Leo.” Vincent extends his hand with forced confidence. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.” It appears to be a veiled criticism that I called him yesterday afternoon and politely demanded a meeting this morning.

I don’t acknowledge that, having chosen to handle it that way to keep him off-balance. “Vincent.” I stand to shake his hand, noting the slight tremor in his grip. “Please, have a seat.” I direct him to the conference table instead, taking a seat first.

He settles into the chair across from me, taking in the carefully arranged documents spread before me. His gaze lingers on the shipping manifests and financial statements longer than necessary, confirming my suspicion that he recognizes what he’s looking at.

“Coffee?” I gesture toward the service cart my assistant prepared.

“Please.” Vincent accepts the cup I pour for him, and his hands are definitely shaking.

I return to my chair and lean back, letting silence stretch between us until he shifts uncomfortably. “I wanted to discuss the shipping arrangements for your European imports.”

“Uh, I see.” Vincent takes a sip of coffee, buying himself time. “I understand there have been some delays in recent weeks.”

“Delays suggest scheduling issues or mechanical problems.” I keep my voice neutral. “What you’re experiencing are systematic disruptions to your supply chain.”

“Systematic disruptions?” He sets down his cup with studied casualness. “That sounds rather dramatic.”

“Does it?” I slide a manifest across the desk toward him. “You’ve had three missing containers in the past month. They were all properly loaded at European ports but all disappeared somewhere between departure and arrival in New York.”

Vincent glances at the document, and recognition flickers across his features before he masks it. “Shipping can be unpredictable. Weather delays, port congestion, or paperwork issues could all be to blame.”

“Paperwork doesn’t make containers vanish from manifest systems.” I lean forward slightly. “Someone with inside access to your shipping schedules is targeting your cargo.”

“You think someone is deliberately sabotaging my imports?” Vincent’s surprise sounds genuine enough, but he’s survived straddling the world of legal and illegal imports for years, so consummate lying isn’t outside his wheelhouse.

“I think you have enemies, Vincent. The question is, do you know who they are.” I watch his reaction carefully. “Have you had any contact with Adrian Petrov recently?”

The name affects him visibly, though he tries to hide it behind confusion. “Adrian Petrov? I’m not familiar with that name.”

The lie comes so smoothly that I almost admire his composure.

Almost. “He was a former associate of mine. Adrian runs independent operations now, often targeting legitimate businesses for leverage. He picks at vulnerabilities, weakens a company, and often absorbs it into his conglomerate. He’s not terribly picking about the business’s legal or illegal deals. ”

“I see.” He picks up his coffee again, using the motion to avoid direct eye contact, but the cup shakes in his hand for a second. “I certainly haven’t had any dealings with anyone by that name.”

“Good.” I let the word hang between us, heavy with warning. “Because Adrian has a tendency to offer financial assistance to struggling businesses, then use that leverage to extract favors that often prove... costly.”

Vincent’s hand tightens around his coffee cup. “I appreciate the warning, but as I mentioned, my current difficulties stem from the downturn in European energy markets. It’s nothing that can’t be managed with proper planning and perhaps some temporary credit extensions.”

“Credit extensions.” I repeat the phrase thoughtfully. “From whom?”

“Standard banking relationships. Nothing unusual.” Vincent waves his hand dismissively. “I’m confident everything will stabilize once the European situation improves.”

The conversation feels like chess with half the pieces missing. Vincent knows more than he’s saying but determining how much requires careful maneuvering. “What about in the meantime? How do you plan to address the immediate cash flow issues?”

“I was hoping...” Vincent pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully. “That is, Katherine and I were hoping that your engagement to Sienna might open doors to additional investment opportunities. Your reputation in the business community carries considerable weight.”

I study his face, noting the careful way he frames his request. We both know financial support was part of our original agreement.

I committed to stabilizing his business in exchange for the marriage alliance and Katherine’s social backing.

What irritates me isn’t the reminder of our deal, but the sense that Vincent wants more than we negotiated, or that he’s hiding how desperate his situation has become.

“My reputation is built on sound business practices and reliable partnerships, Vincent. I won’t risk it by introducing you to prospective investors without full transparency.

” I lean forward slightly. “Our arrangement included financial coordination, but it also assumed you’d be honest about the scope of assistance needed. ”

“Of course.” He nods quickly and visibly swallows.

“I’m simply suggesting our family alliance might attract investors who see value in backing established names.

I understand there are reputational considerations.

” Vincent’s tone grows more defensive. “Surely those can be managed through trust. I was there when you needed me, and I’m hoping to have a reciprocal relationship now. ”

I let out a harsh exhalation, struggling to control my temper.

“I appreciate your help, which is why I was open to the idea when you presented this deal to me. However, proper precautions include understanding the full scope of threats we’re facing before I sink more capital or make introductions to people who might be interested in investing in your company.

” I settle back in my chair. “Those caveats bring us back to the question of who might have reason to target your operations specifically.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but a knock on my office door interrupts him. Ilya enters without waiting for permission, his expression serious enough to signal genuine urgency. “Forgive the interruption.” Ilya nods toward Vincent with professional courtesy. “I have those reports you requested.”

“Of course.” I stand, irritated by the interruption, which gives Vincent a chance to slip free, at least for now.

“Vincent, we’ll need to continue this conversation?—”

“Of course. I must run now, but I’ll have my assistant call yours to coordinate another meeting.” Vincent rises quickly, relief evident in his posture. “Please give my love to Sienna.”

“I will.” I try to let go of my frustration as he gathers his coat and briefcase with hands that shake slightly. “Vincent?”

He pauses at the door. “Yes?”

“The offer of assistance remains open, but only if you’re prepared to be completely honest about what we’re facing.”

“I understand.” His smile is perfunctory. “Good day, Leo.”

After Vincent leaves, Ilya settles into the chair he vacated and studies my expression. “Sorry to interrupt.”

I nod tersely. “I’m sorry too. It gave him a way to wriggle out of the meeting.

” I stand too quickly and wince. The area where the waiter at the Ritz stabbed me has almost entirely healed, but there’s an occasional twinge if I move too quickly.

I’m usually only mildly aware of it, and when I was making love with Sienna, I didn’t even notice it at all.

I blink and clear my mind of those thoughts when Ilya speaks again.

“How are you feeling? The wound still bothering you?”

I touch my side reflexively, noting the dull ache that persists from the attack at the Ritz. “I’m mostly fine. The cut is mostly healed. There’s just a little twinge now and then.”

“Good.” Ilya opens the folder he brought with him. “How did Vincent take your questions about Adrian?”

“About as well as expected. He denied knowing him while showing clear recognition of the name.” I move to the window, needing to burn off the frustration of Vincent’s evasions. “He’s lying, but I can’t determine how deeply his involvement runs.”

“Deep enough.” Ilya’s voice carries grim certainty. “The reports I mentioned are real and deserve urgent attention. That’s why I interrupted. I wanted you to have a full picture before you continued your meeting with Vincent.”

I turn back to face him. “What did you find?”

“Vincent accepted a private loan eight months ago from an offshore account that traces back to Adrian’s network.

This is in addition to the smaller loans he’s since taken from various sources, including more from Adrian.

” Ilya spreads documents across my desk.

“The initial amount was fifteen million, with repayment structured in quarterly installments.”