Page 41 of Arranged with Twins

Leo

T wo weeks later, I watch Sienna move around my estate’s kitchen. She’s been staying here most nights since our shopping expedition, claiming my bed is more comfortable than hers.

The truth is simpler.

We both sleep better when we’re together.

At fourteen weeks pregnant, she’s started showing just enough that her regular clothes fit differently.

She wears one of my dress shirts over leggings, the fabric draped loosely around her growing belly.

The sight of her carrying my children while wearing my clothes fills me with primal possessiveness.

“I have something to show you,” I say, setting down my coffee cup.

She looks up from the eggs she’s scrambling. “What kind of something?”

“A surprise.” I move behind her, pressing a kiss to her neck. “Come with me.”

“Can it wait until after breakfast?” She leans back against me. “I’m starving, and these smell amazing.”

“Breakfast can wait.” I turn off the stove burner and take her hand. “This is more important.”

I lead her through the east wing of the estate, past rooms she’s never seen, until we reach a door I’ve kept locked for the past month. When I turn the key and push it open, soft morning light floods the newly finished nursery.

Two cribs sit side by side in the center of the room, one dressed in soft blues and grays, and the other in whites and pale pink. A comfortable rocking chair occupies the corner near tall windows, and built-in shelving lines one wall, already stocked with books and toys.

Sienna stops in the doorway, her mouth opening in surprise. “Leo...”

“One for each baby.” I watch her face carefully. “Everything they’ll need is already here, but we can change anything you don’t like.”

She steps inside slowly, running her hand along one of the crib rails. The wood is smooth, expensive, and completely safe. I made sure of that.

“When did you do all this?”

“The past few weeks.” I move to adjust a mobile hanging over the blue crib.

“It’s beautiful.” Her voice carries emotion I’m having trouble reading. “Really beautiful.”

“I want you to move in permanently.” The words come out more abruptly than I intended. “Your penthouse isn’t secure enough anymore, and the babies will need?—”

“The babies aren’t here yet.” She turns to face me, and I see the familiar spark of independence in her eyes. “I don’t need to move anywhere for another six months.”

“Things are different now.” I choose my words carefully. “My world is dangerous, and you’re more visible than before. Living here means better protection.”

“Better control, you mean.” She crosses her arms. “Another decision made for me.”

“This isn’t about control. It’s about keeping you alive.” The harshness in my voice makes her flinch, but I don’t soften it. “Do you think I built this nursery as some kind of manipulation? I did it because I want a future with you and our children.”

She studies my face, and for a moment, I think she might understand. Then her expression shutters. “I need to think about it.”

Before I can respond, I hear footsteps in the hallway. Ilya appears in the doorway, his face grim. “We need to talk.”

“Give us a minute,” I say to Sienna. “This is business.”

“I’ll wait here.” She settles into the rocking chair, running her hand over the armrest. “Take your time.”

I hesitate, but Ilya’s expression tells me this news won’t wait. We head to my office, where he’s already spread documents across my desk. There are bank statements, communication intercepts, and surveillance photos that a quick glance tells me create a damning timeline.

“Vincent’s debt to Adrian is worse than we thought.

” Ilya keeps his voice low. “I have confirmation the terms include operational intelligence as collateral.” He slides another folder across the desk.

“According to a few associates of both Vincent and Adrian, who appreciate cash more than loyalty, Vincent’s been feeding Adrian detailed intelligence for months. ”

“Son of a bitch.” I’m not surprised exactly, but I still feel a sting of treachery, not able to reconcile how the man who offered me shelter as a teenager has changed so much in the ensuing years that he can casually betray me. “How long has this been going on?”

“Phone intercepts suggest since April and escalating after your engagement.” Ilya points to a transcript. “This is from one of Adrian’s men. It’s a transcript of Adrian and Vincent discussing your visit to the Ritz the day before the attack.”

I remember that moment, where the knife slashed my flesh. “Vincent’s information nearly got me killed.”

The door to my office slams open with such force the frame rattles.

Sienna stands in the doorway, pale and visibly shaking, her hand clenched around the edge of the jamb.

Her gaze flicks from me to Ilya, then to the folder still in his hand.

“Is that true?” Her voice is low and sharp, but it cuts through the room like a blade.

“Did I just hear you say my father is planning your murder?”

My stomach knots. I should’ve known she was nearby. I should’ve made sure the door was locked, and she hadn’t followed us down the hall. “Sienna,” I start to say, trying to gauge how much she heard, and how much damage has already been done.

“Answer me, Leo.” She takes a step into the room, chin high, and trembling with fury. “I want to hear you say it. Did my father take money from this Adrian guy? Did he agree to,” Her voice breaks slightly before hardening again. “To have you killed so he could take over your empire through me?”

Her lips wobble from the betrayal she’s only just beginning to understand, and the sight of her, so fierce yet devastated, makes my chest ache. “I was going to tell you?—”

“When?” Her voice rises, brittle and breaking.

“When were you going to tell me, Leo?” She storms across the room and snatches the folder from Ilya’s hand, flipping it open with frantic urgency.

Page after page of financial transfers and intercepted communications spill out across my desk.

“How long were you planning to keep this from me?” Her voice shakes with rage now.

“Until you were out of the first trimester, when the risk of miscarriage drops significantly. I wanted to be sure you could handle the truth.”

“The truth?” She waves the bank statements. “My father is taking money from your enemy? My father is selling information that could get you killed?”

“Yes,” I reply flatly.

Her expression is starting to change as her mood shifts. Her eyes narrow as she look at the documents and then looks at me again. “These could be fabricated.” She throws the papers back on my desk. “This is awfully convenient evidence that appears just when you need to isolate me from my family.”

“I’m not trying to isolate?—”

Before I can finish, Ilya interrupts me to say to her, “Recall the attack at the Ritz, Miss Cooper. Vincent provided the security details that made it possible.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Sienna whirls on him. “This is between me and Leo.”

“Your father made a deal with Adrian behind your back to save his own skin,” I say, moving around the desk toward her. “The marriage treaty was never about protecting your family. It was a strategic distraction while he funneled intelligence to a man who wants me dead.”

“Show me proof.” She backs toward the door. “Real proof, not documents your people could have created.”

“I can’t reveal our sources?—”

“How convenient.” Her laugh is bitter and broken. “You expect me to believe my father is a traitor based on papers I can’t verify?”

“Your father owes Adrian fifteen million dollars and has been paying with intelligence about my operations.” I keep my voice steady despite the anger building in my chest. “Adrian wants me dead, and Vincent is helping him achieve that goal. You could be caught in the crossfire when he faces the consequences of his actions.”

“Father would never hurt me.” She reaches for the door handle. “He’s my father.”

“He’s already hurt you by putting you in Adrian’s crosshairs.” I follow her. “Every detail he’s provided brings Adrian closer to me, and by now, Adrian surely knows how much you mean to me. I’m trying to protect you.”

She snorts harshly. “By lying to me for weeks?” Her voice cracks.

“You say you didn’t tell me because you wanted me to be out of the first trimester, but I’ve had no indication of complications.

There was no reason not to tell me, except you wanted to wait until I was trapped.

” She steps back. “Until leaving would be harder, until I’d be more dependent on you.

” She shakes her head. “This is about control, Leo. It always comes back to control with you.”

“This is about survival,” I shoot back. “Yours and our children’s.”

“You made all the decisions for both of us and just assumed I’d go along with it, and now you’ve turned my pregnancy into leverage.”

“That’s not true.”

She stares at me, and her expression shutters. “If you want out of this arrangement, Leo, just say so,” she says quietly, her voice colder now. “You don’t need to turn my parents into monsters to make yourself feel better about walking away.”

“I don’t want out.” The words explode from me. “I want you safe.”

“By keeping me locked in your fortress while you wage war against my family?” She turns on her heel and doesn’t look back. “I won’t be used as leverage in your games.”

“Sienna, wait?—”

“No.” Her voice echoes down the hallway as she storms away. “I need space to think, and I need to talk to my father myself.”

I watch her walk away, every instinct screaming at me to follow as Ilya clears his throat behind me.

“Should I let her security detail know she’s not staying?”

“Yes, for now.” I return to my desk, forcing myself to focus on the documents.

“She’s going to confront Vincent.” He sounds worried.

“I know.” I close the folder containing the evidence. “Maybe that’s what she needs to see the truth.”

“Or maybe Vincent will convince her you’re the real threat.” My old friend is clearly worried about me and the woman I love. “Desperate men make dangerous choices.”

“Vincent’s already made his choice.” I move to the window overlooking the grounds, where armed guards patrol in careful patterns. “He chose Adrian over his daughter’s safety.”

“What if Sienna chooses her father over you?”

The question makes me flinch. I’ve spent weeks planning for Adrian’s attack, Vincent’s betrayal, and every possible threat to Sienna’s safety, but I hadn’t planned for the possibility that she might walk away voluntarily.

“She’s carrying my children.” The words sound hollow even to me.

Will that be a good enough reason for her to come back?

Ilya almost reads my thoughts. “That might not be enough if she thinks you’re lying about her father.”

“I know.” I turn away from the window, unable to voice my deepest fear that Sienna will choose the familiar lies of her family over the harsh truths I’m offering, and I’ll lose the only person who matters more than survival itself.

“Keep the surveillance on Vincent.” I return to my desk. “When Adrian makes his move, I want to be ready.”

“What about Sienna?”

“She already has a small army protecting her.” I pick up another folder, though the words blur together. “She’ll be safe long enough for me to prove Vincent’s betrayal.”

Ilya nods and heads for the door. “What if proving it takes too long?”

“Then I’ll neutralize Adrian before he can use her against me.

” The admission comes out colder than I intended.

After Ilya leaves, I remain at my desk, staring at evidence that should convince any rational person.

Yet Sienna saw only manipulation, which is the same pattern she’s fought her entire life.

Her parents have instilled distrust in her even if she doesn’t recognize it.

She thinks I’m like them, and that hurts almost as much as watching her walk out.

My phone buzzes: Subject leaving estate grounds. Maintaining surveillance.

I picture her driving back to Manhattan, convinced I’ve betrayed her trust. She’s probably planning what to say to Vincent, believing in family loyalty even when it’s misplaced. I call my head of security. “Add more men to the detail following Ms. Cooper. Eyes on her every moment.”

“Any specific threats?”

I think about Adrian’s patience, Vincent’s desperation, and Sienna’s vulnerability. “Everyone. Watch everyone and report even the slightest incidents that make you uneasy.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hang up and think about the nursery and how I imagined the day going.

I thought we might finish adding the final touches, maybe go out for lunch, and spend the afternoon making love.

I didn’t expect my whole world to implode in a matter of minutes, and not being confident I can get her to listen further unsettles me.

I was sure she’d forgive me, but it never occurred to me that she’d think I was lying to control her.