Page 49 of Arranged with Twins
Sienna
T he first contraction hits me while I’m arranging flowers in the nursery. The vase slips from my hands and shatters on the hardwood floor, water and white roses scattered among the broken glass.
“Leo,” I call out, gripping the edge of the changing table as a wave of pain rolls through my abdomen. At thirty-six weeks and three days, this is earlier than we expected, but Dr. Foxx warned us twins often arrive ahead of schedule.
He appears in the doorway within seconds, still wearing his reading glasses and holding the investment report he was reviewing. “What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s time.” I breathe through the contraction, counting the seconds until it passes. “The babies are coming.”
His expression shifts from concern to calm, but there’s a hint of fear in his eyes. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“That was only the first one, but it was strong.” I accept his steadying hand as he helps me step over the broken glass. “We should go to the hospital.”
“I’ll call Dr. Foxx and have the car brought around.” Leo guides me toward our bedroom, already pulling out his phone. “Can you walk?”
“I can manage.” The truth is, walking feels increasingly difficult as pressure builds low in my back. “Just don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses my forehead before dialing. “Dr. Foxx? Sienna’s in labor. The contraction was strong.” He speaks to her for another moment before hanging up. “Normally, she’d say wait and see, but with you having twins, she wants you at L&D to get checked out.”
I sit on the edge of our bed and wait for another contraction while Leo arranges everything with military efficiency.
Within ten minutes, he’s retrieved the packed hospital bag from the closet, called our driver, and called ahead to order a catered meal for staff at the private hospital in Manhattan.
I arch a brow. “What’s that about?”
He grins. “It can’t hurt to prime them to like us with a little pasta from Ignatio’s.”
The ride into the city passes in a blur of traffic lights and increasingly painful contractions, though they’re far apart enough that I have no concerns Leo will be delivering our twins in the back of the car.
Leo holds my hand and times each wave, his presence steady and reassuring even as I squeeze his fingers hard enough to leave marks.
“You’re doing beautifully,” he says during a reprieve between contractions. “Strong and brave, just like I knew you would be.”
“I’m scared,” I say, the words coming out between shallow breaths. “What if something goes wrong? What if they’re too early?”
“Dr. Foxx says thirty-six weeks is considered full-term for twins.” Leo strokes my hair back from my face. “They’re going to be perfect, healthy babies who are just eager to meet their parents.”
The hospital staff wheels me directly to a private delivery suite, where Dr. Foxx is already waiting, scrubbed and ready. The room is spacious and well-equipped, with surgical lighting and monitors that look both high-tech and reassuring.
“How are we feeling, Sienna?” Dr. Foxx examines me quickly and checks the monitors tracking both babies’ heartbeats before speaking again.
“Given that you’re carrying twins at thirty-six weeks, and you’re in active labor, we’re going to proceed with the C-section, just a few days early.
The babies are in good position, but this gives us the most control over delivery. ”
Leo squeezes my hand as they wheel me into the operating room. “I’ll be right here with you,” he promises, though I can see the concern in his eyes despite his quiet voice.
The anesthesiologist administers the spinal block, and within minutes, I can no longer feel anything below my chest. Leo sits beside my head, holding my hand and stroking my hair while Dr. Foxx and her team work behind the surgical drape.
“You’re doing beautifully,” he whispers, his voice steady and reassuring. “Just a few more minutes, and we’ll meet our children.”
“I can feel pressure but no pain,” I say, amazed by how surreal the experience feels. “Is that normal?”
“Perfectly normal,” Dr. Foxx calls from behind the drape. “I’m about to deliver Baby A.”
Moments later, a sharp cry fills the operating room. “Here’s your daughter,” Dr. Foxx announces, holding up a tiny, perfect baby girl covered in vernix and blood but absolutely beautiful.
“Elizaveta,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face as they clean her quickly and place her on my chest for a brief moment. “Hello, little love.” We’ve had their names selected for months, opting to honor Leo’s absent parents by passing on their names to our son and daughter.
Leo stares at his daughter with naked wonder. “She’s perfect. Look at those eyes. So blue.”
I feel another tugging sensation. Moments later, the doctor speaks again. “Here comes Baby B. Your son is eager to join his sister.”
Lev arrives two minutes later, slightly smaller than Elizaveta but equally perfect.
The medical team works quickly to ensure both babies are healthy.
Their cries fill the room, and it’s music to my ears.
Leo moves to the twins’ incubators to observe the process while Dr. Foxx closes my incision with practiced precision
“Elizaveta and Lev Denisov,” Leo says softly a few minutes later when he returns to me, cradling both babies while I rest against the pillows. “I wish my parents could meet them. They would have loved all of you beyond measure.”
Watching him hold our children makes my heart expand in ways I didn’t know were possible. This man who once seemed cold and untouchable cradles our tiny babies like they’re made of spun glass, whispering to them in Russian and English about how much they’re loved.
“You’re a natural,” I say, exhausted but exhilarated. “Look how calm they are with you.”
“They know their father’s voice.” He settles Elizaveta more securely in the crook of his arm while Lev sleeps peacefully against his chest. “I’ve been talking to them for months.”
“The babies need to go back to the incubator, but we’ll move them to your room shortly,” says Dr. Foxx. “So far, there’s no indication they’ll need to spend any time in NICU.”
That’s a relief, and I insist Leo stays with the children after he hands them off to two different nurses. “I’ll be fine.”
“She will,” says Dr. Foxx. “A couple of hours in recovery, and she’ll join the three of you in the room.”
The rest of the day passes in a haze of visitors and phone calls. Nadia arrives with flowers and tears, immediately claiming the role of honorary aunt. Ilya appears with a security detail that discreetly positions itself throughout the hospital, ensuring our privacy and safety.
“They’re gorgeous,” says Nadia, gently stroking Elizaveta’s tiny hand. “She’s going to be a fashionista like her mother.”
I laugh. “I suppose there are worse things, but I wouldn’t consider myself a fashionista.”
Nadia is still grinning when Ilya takes Lev with clear discomfort as Leo passes him over.
“He’s going to be strong like his father and grandfather.
” Ilya studies Lev with a serious expression.
In response, Lev starts crying, and Elizaveta joins in.
He rubs his ear and quickly passes our son back to Leo. “Good strong lungs on both of them.”
As evening settles over Manhattan, Leo and I finally have quiet moments alone with our children. The nurses have shown me how to breastfeed, and both babies are settling into a rhythm of eating and sleeping.
“I have something to tell you,” Leo says as we watch Lev sleep in his bassinet. “About the business.”
“What about it?” I adjust Elizaveta’s blanket, marveling at how small and perfect she is.
“You know I’ve stepped away completely from the…
one side and have been for months?” I nod.
“As of yesterday, the last of the questionable Denisov holdings have been sold and merged into other families. Raquel has removed any trace of a link to us and them.” He moves to sit on the edge of my hospital bed.
“The bratva empire my father died for is now more.”
I give him a concerned look. Stepping back and having it completely out of his hands are vastly different. “How do you feel about that?”
“Relieved.” His answer comes without hesitation. “For the first time since I was seventeen, I can focus entirely on what matters most. You, Elizaveta, Lev, and the life we’re building together.”
I reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching our babies sleep and adjusting to the reality that we’re now parents.
The magnitude of responsibility feels overwhelming and wonderful simultaneously.
I wish I could escape the contrasting heaviness of my thoughts as the minutes tick past.
“Sienna?” Leo asks eventually, clearly noticing my distraction. “What are you thinking about?”
I consider lying and telling him I’m just tired or emotional from giving birth. Instead, I decide to share the thought that’s been circulating in my mind since the babies arrived. “I want to reach out to my parents.”
He tenses slightly beside me. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Not for their sake,” I clarify quickly. “For mine, and for Elizaveta and Lev.” I look down at our sleeping daughter. “These babies deserve the chance to know their living grandparents, if Vincent and Katherine can prove they’re worthy of that privilege.”
He clearly doesn’t like the idea. “They betrayed you in the worst possible way.”
“I know.” I turn to meet his concerned gaze. “Still, maybe losing everything they valued—their money, their social standing, their reputation—will strip away the artificial parts of who they were. Maybe we’ll finally get to see if there’s anything real underneath.”
He looks skeptical. “What if there isn’t? What if they’re exactly who they showed themselves to be?”
I hesitate and then shrug. “I guess then I’ll know for sure, and I can close that door permanently with no regrets.
” I shift carefully to face him more directly.
“If there’s any possibility they could be genuine grandparents to these children, shouldn’t we at least give them the chance to prove it?
Your parents are dead and have no chance to be part of their lives.
I guess I just want to see if our babies have the possibility of having that relationship. I know it sounds stupid?—”
“No, it doesn’t.” Leo studies my face in the soft hospital lighting. “This matters to you.”
“It does. Not because I need their approval or love anymore, but because I need to know I gave them every opportunity to be better.” I gesture toward our sleeping children.
“Elizaveta and Lev will grow up surrounded by love and security. If Vincent and Katherine can add to that, wonderful. If they can’t, then at least I’ll know I tried.
” I abruptly realize I no longer call them Mother and Father and haven’t for months.
“You’re stronger than I am for giving them a chance they haven’t earned.” Leo cups my face gently. “I want to protect you from any possibility of them hurting you again.”
“They can’t hurt me the way they used to.” I lean into his touch. “I know who I am now, what I want, and who loves me unconditionally. They don’t have power over me anymore.”
“Then if that’s what you want, we’ll try.” His agreement comes slowly but sincerely. “We’ll give them one opportunity to prove they can be grandparents worthy of these children. If they fail, that’s the end of it.”
“One opportunity.” I nod. “With very clear boundaries and consequences.”
“I love you.” Leo leans forward to kiss me softly. “Your capacity for forgiveness amazes me, even when it terrifies me.”
“I love you too.” I smile against his lips. “I love our family, built on choice, trust, and unconditional support.”
Later that night, after Leo has reluctantly gone home to shower and check on estate security, I lie in the hospital bed with both babies sleeping peacefully in their bassinets beside me.
The private room is quiet except for the soft sounds of their breathing and the distant hum of hospital activity.
I think about the past year, with the arranged engagement that became real love, the betrayal that revealed true loyalty, and the fear that transformed into strength.
Looking at Elizaveta and Lev, I see not just Leo’s features and mine, but the promise of a future built on a foundation we chose rather than one imposed on us.
I reach over to stroke Elizaveta’s soft cheek, marveling at how something so small can represent such enormous love and possibility. “Welcome to the world, little ones,” I whisper to my sleeping children. “You’re going to love the life your father and I have waiting for you.”