Page 33 of Arranged with Twins

Leo

I sit in the passenger seat of my sedan as Dmitri navigates morning traffic toward Sienna’s doctor’s office, my mind still processing last night’s emotional explosion.

The words “I love you” escaped my mouth with such raw honesty that I’m still reconciling the man who blurted out his deepest feelings with the reserved, self-protective person I’ve trained myself to be for twenty years.

Vulnerability has never been my strength. In my world, showing weakness invites attack, and admitting love gives enemies a target. Yet somehow Sienna stripped away every defense I’ve built, leaving me exposed in ways that should terrify me but instead feel like relief.

When I pick her up at her apartment, she greets me with a soft smile that suggests she’s equally unsettled by our declarations. Neither of us seems quite sure how to navigate this new territory.

“Did you sleep well?” She settles beside me in the backseat.

“I did eventually.” I reach for her hand, needing the physical connection. “You?”

“Once I stopped replaying everything that happened.” She threads our fingers together, and the simple gesture sends warmth through me. “I keep thinking about what you said about loving me.”

“Do you regret me saying it?” The question comes out with more vulnerability than I intended.

“No.” Her response is immediate and certain. “I regret it took us so long to say it.”

We ride the rest of the way in comfortable silence, both of us processing the shift in our relationship. When we arrive at Dr. Foxx’s office, I note the discreet security measures Ilya has implemented. There are additional men positioned at building entrances, but I don’t think Sienna notices them.

The waiting room for this new doctor is filled with other expectant couples in various stages of pregnancy.

I observe them but I try not to make eye contact.

A few women recognize us from society pages and whisper behind magazines while stealing glances in our direction.

It hits me that all the women in there are also pregnant with twins or more.

“Ms. Cooper?” A nurse appears with a chart. “Dr. Foxx is ready for you.”

Dr. Foxx is a petite woman in her fifties with prematurely gray hair and intelligent eyes that miss nothing.

I’ve had her thoroughly vetted before this first appointment with her, of course.

She has a medical degree from Johns Hopkins, specializes in high-risk pregnancies, maintains an impeccable reputation, and most importantly, practices absolute discretion regarding patient confidentiality.

“Good morning, Sienna. And you must be Leo.” Dr. Foxx shakes my hand with professional warmth. “I’m glad you’re here too. Partner support is crucial for healthy pregnancies, especially with multiples.”

Dr. Foxx reviews Sienna’s chart while preparing equipment for the examination. “How have you been feeling, Sienna? Any concerning symptoms since you saw Dr. Kane for confirmation and an initial ultrasound?”

“I’ve had some nausea, mostly in the mornings, along with fatigue, but nothing unmanageable.” Sienna answers the questions while I listen carefully and file away every detail about her health and wellbeing. “I’ve been trying to eat regularly and get enough rest.”

“Good.” She asks a few more questions and writes Sienna a lab order before saying, “Let’s see how the babies are developing.” Dr. Foxx positions the ultrasound equipment beside the table. “Would you like to find out the genders today? They should be developed enough to tell us if they cooperate.”

“What do you think?” I keep my voice neutral, letting her decide without pressure.

“Yes.” She nods decisively. “I want to know.”

Dr. Foxx applies gel to Sienna’s abdomen and positions the ultrasound wand. The monitor flickers to life, showing the shadowy shapes of our children. Though it’s only been two weeks, they’re larger than during our previous visit with Dr. Kane, more clearly defined, and unmistakably human.

“There we are.” Dr. Foxx points to various features on the screen. “Two healthy babies, both measuring right on schedule for gestational age, and with nominal heartbeats in range. Let me see if I can determine genders.”

I lean forward to study the grainy images with fascination. These are my children, growing inside the woman I love, and becoming more real with each passing day. The abstract concept of fatherhood suddenly feels concrete, immediate, and overwhelming in its significance.

“This one is definitely a boy.” Dr. Foxx highlights an area on the screen. “And this one... Yes, a girl. Congratulations, you’re having one of each.”

The words affect me with unexpected force. A son and a daughter means there are two distinct personalities, two futures to protect, and two lives that will carry forward everything I’ve built while hopefully avoiding being part of my current world in any way.

I look at Sienna and see tears gathering in her eyes, though whether from joy or overwhelming emotion, I can’t tell. She takes my hand instinctively and squeezes tightly as we both process what we’ve just learned.

“A boy and a girl.” She whispers the words like a prayer, with wonder evident in her voice. “One of each.”

“Perfect.” The word comes out rougher than I intended, loaded with new feelings. For a moment, I let my carefully maintained composure slip and allow some of my own amazement to show. “They’re perfect.”

Dr. Foxx prints several ultrasound images as she says, “It’s important to rest and reduce your stress as much as possible, especially with twins. Your body is doing twice the amount of work.”

As Sienna nods at the advice, I absorb the information automatically, though most of my attention remains fixed on the photos that show my children’s profiles, their tiny hands and feet, and proof of the future Sienna and I are building together.

“Do you have any questions before you go?” Dr. Foxx hands us the printed images along with a packet of information about the second trimester.

“When is it safe to travel?” I ask, thinking ahead to potential security concerns. “If we needed to leave the city temporarily?” Sienna shoots me a puzzled glance but doesn’t say anything.

“Travel is generally fine during the second trimester, which you’re approaching. I’d recommend staying within a reasonable distance of quality medical facilities, but short trips shouldn’t be problematic.” Dr. Foxx looks between us with mild curiosity. “Are you planning a babymoon?”

“Just considering options.” I don’t elaborate on the real reason for my question. If Vincent’s situation with Adrian deteriorates further, I may need to move Sienna somewhere more secure until the threat resolves.

We leave the medical building with ultrasound photos tucked safely in Sienna’s purse and a follow-up appointment scheduled for two weeks.

The drive back to her apartment should be peaceful, offering a chance to discuss what we’ve learned and begin planning for our expanding family.

Instead, my phone buzzes with a priority message from Ilya that makes my stomach drop with dread.

The text contains a single photo that shows Vincent emerging from a downtown office building. He looks pale and shaken, clearly sweating despite the cool morning temperature. The expression on his face suggests a man under enormous pressure.

Things keep getting worse.

My phone buzzes again with additional context from Ilya. The message reads: “Meeting with Esai Janitz, financial enforcer for shell companies linked to Adrian’s network. Duration: Forty-seven minutes. Subject appeared distressed upon departure.”

I recognize Janitz’s name from intelligence reports. He’s Adrian’s go-to person for collecting debts and ensuring compliance from reluctant business partners. His involvement suggests Vincent’s situation has escalated beyond simple financial difficulties into active enforcement territory.

In other words, Vincent’s might not ever meet his grandchildren.

A third message arrives with another photo timestamp from earlier this morning: “Adrian’s lieutenant Kozlov entered First National Private Banking shortly after opening this morning. Vincent’s last recorded visit was yesterday before closing. Pattern suggests coordinated activity.”

The timing is too precise to be coincidental.

Vincent banks at First National, and having Adrian’s people access the same facility within hours of his visits suggests they’re monitoring his financial activities in real time.

Either Vincent is reporting his transactions to them directly, or they have other means of surveillance that we haven’t detected.

It’s likely they’re paying someone in the bank to leak information to them about Vincent’s accounts and balances.

“Is everything all right?” Sienna notices my distraction as I study the messages. “You look concerned.”

“Just business updates.” I mutter as I close the phone and slip it back into my jacket pocket. “It’s nothing that can’t wait until later.”

I hate lying to her, especially after last night’s declarations of love and honesty.

Sienna deserves to know her father is in serious trouble, and his choices may have put our entire family at risk.

She deserves the truth about the forces circling our relationship and the threats that extend beyond Adrian’s personal vendetta against me.

And yet… I can’t do it. This life isn’t hers.

She needs to be protected from it, not stressed to the point of complications with her pregnancy.

She’s still in her first trimester, the period when miscarriage risks are highest. In two weeks, she’ll enter the safer second trimester, and then I can tell her everything without worrying about stress-induced pregnancy loss.