Page 9 of Arranged with Twins

The ring fits perfectly, and the orange diamonds catch the light beautifully against my skin.

I’m still staring at it in amazement when Leo leans closer and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me properly.

I lifting my head to meet him halfway, forgetting all about pretenses for the moment as I surrender to the urge to kiss him.

The camera flash from across the restaurant breaks the spell, reminding me where we are and what this really is. Instead of pulling away completely, I lean forward and kiss his cheek, letting my lips linger against his skin longer than strictly necessary.

Even that brief contact sends a jolt of awareness through me for which I wasn’t prepared. Leo’s cologne, the warmth of his skin, and the way his breath hitches slightly when my mouth brushes against him combines into something that feels dangerously true for this second.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his ear. “I love the ring, and I appreciate you taking time to pick something that suits me.”

When I pull back, the look in his eyes suggests that the performance is affecting him as much as it’s affecting me. We finish dinner in a bubble of intimacy that feels both artificial and genuine, as two people playing roles that might be becoming something more substantial.

The ride back to my building is quiet, with both of us apparently processing what happened over dinner.

I keep looking at the ring, amazed by how beautiful it is and how much thought Leo clearly put into choosing it.

“I hope tonight was helpful for the photographers,” I say as we pull up to my building.

“I think we gave them exactly what they were looking for.” Leo walks me to the lobby entrance. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Sienna. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”

“So did I. The conversation was much more interesting than I expected.”

He smiles at that. “Perhaps we could do it again soon, without quite so many cameras.”

The suggestion that he’d want to spend time with me when it’s not required for publicity makes my heart hammer all the way up into my throat.

“I’d like that,” I hear myself say, and I mean it. Part of me hasn’t forgotten this is more a merger than a marriage, but he’s the first man who’s elicited any sort of response in me for ages, and if we can at least be friends, that would make the arrangement much easier.

It’s only when I getting ready for bed and wondering what it would have been like if we’d actually kissed that I consider we probably can’t be friends. I’ve never fantasized about kissing my friends before, anyway.

Three days later, I’m sitting in the back of a town car with Mother, listening to her complain about my engagement ring for what feels like the hundredth time this week.

“It’s simply too flashy, darling. Orange diamonds are so vulgar and unconventional. What will people think?” She adjusts her pearls with the precise movements of someone deeply frustrated. “A classic solitaire would have been so much more appropriate for a Cooper bride.”

“I like it,” I say firmly, twisting the ring around my finger. “It’s beautiful and unique, and Leo chose it specifically for me.”

“That’s exactly the problem. Engagement rings should be timeless, not trendy. This looks like something a nouveau riche socialite would wear to get attention.” She shakes her head, clearly appalled.

The insult stings more than I expected, partly because I know she’s deliberately trying to make me doubt Leo’s choice and my own taste. I grit my teeth to keep from responding.

Father clears his throat from the front seat. “Perhaps we could focus on tonight’s event. Sienna, remember to stay close to Leo. The photographers will want to capture your interactions. The ring is fine. It’s too late to change it now, anyway.”

“Thanks,” I grumble, already feeling tense about tonight’s charity board meeting.

“Stay close to him. Don’t cause a stir,” Mother says, as though he’s repeating it to Father instead of me.

"Yeah, I get it,” I reply.

“Do you? I sometimes wonder if you fully grasp how much depends on this marriage. You’re carrying our entire future, our reputation, and our ability to maintain our position in society with your actions and this arrangement.

” Mother’s voice carries an edge of desperation that’s becoming more pronounced each week.

“Your cooperation is the only thing keeping this family from collapsing.”

The word makes my jaw clench. I recognize her manipulation tactics, but that doesn’t keep them from working, dammit. “I won’t do anything to embarrass the family.”

“See that you don’t. Tonight is crucial for maintaining relationships with potential investors. Everyone will be watching how you and Leo interact, and we can’t afford any missteps.”

I swallow my anger, knowing she’s right even if I hate being reminded of it constantly. I can’t walk away from this arrangement, no matter how much I want to assert my independence. I’m chafing at their rules and requests more than I am the actual deal with Leo though.

The car pulls up to the building where the charity board meeting is being held, and Leo is waiting just inside the lobby when we arrive. He greets my parents appropriately before turning to me with what seems like a genuine smile. “You look lovely tonight,” he says, offering me his arm.

“Thank you.” I decided to placate my mother by wearing the black dress she sent over for my date with Leo earlier in the week. It’s fine, but it’s boring, making me feel boring in it—at least until I catch a glimpse of the orange diamonds sparkling on my fingers, which makes me a little happier.

We’re ushered into the conference room where the meeting will take place, and I take my seat beside Leo, acutely aware that we’re being observed from multiple angles.

Halfway through the meeting, the lights flicker and then go out completely.

Emergency lighting kicks in, and someone announces a storm has knocked out power to several blocks.

“For security reasons, the building will remain in lockdown until power is restored,” announces the building manager. “Please remain in your current locations.”

Leo stands and surveys the room by the light of his phone, augmenting the emergency lights. “There’s a smaller conference room down the hall. We could wait there instead of staying crowded in here.”

I nod, grateful for any excuse to escape the main room where I feel constantly watched.

He guides me through the dim hallway to a much smaller space with just a conference table and chairs.

The moment the door closes behind us, some of the tension in my shoulders eases.

For the first time all evening, I’m not being observed and evaluated.

“Better?” he asks.

“Much. Thank you for suggesting this.” I lean back and close my eyes briefly. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m suffocating under all the scrutiny.”

“The pressure must be difficult, and your parents are… demanding.”

His observation makes me defensive despite his neutral tone. “My parents are just trying to protect the family. This engagement is important for all of us.”

“It is important, but that doesn’t mean you should have to disappear completely in the process.”

I open my eyes to look at him more carefully. “What do you mean?”

“If we’re going to make this work, we both need to be able to be ourselves sometimes. Not just the people your family and society wants us to be.” Leo leans forward slightly. “When we’re in public, we play our parts, but when it’s just us, maybe we could try being honest with each other.”

The suggestion is both appealing and terrifying. “Honest about what?”

“About what we actually want from this arrangement and if we can find ways to make it work for both of us instead of just for appearance.” I hear something that might be his genuine interest in finding common ground rather than just managing a business transaction.

It makes me panic for some reason, and I have to modulate my tone. “I don’t want to be treated like property,” I say quietly. “If you expect me to play along in public, it needs to be on terms we both agree to.”

Leo studies my face in the red emergency lighting. “What would those terms look like?”

“I need to know when something is performance and when it’s real. When there’s actual danger versus when we’re just putting on a show.” I pause, then continue more boldly. “Maybe we could have a signal. Something subtle that lets us communicate without anyone else knowing.”

He looks intrigued. “What kind of signal?”

“A hand squeeze. Once if it’s all for show, and twice for real situations where I need to trust your judgment completely.

” I’m aware there will likely be times like that.

Nadia’s information about his family’s background and possible ties to illegal activities have been on my mind.

There’s real, physical risk involved with marrying him, and I don’t want to panic about that.

He reaches across the small table and takes my hand. He squeezes once, then looks at me questioningly.

“Act,” I confirm, then squeeze his hand twice. “Real.”

“Real,” he repeats, squeezing twice in return.

The simple communication feels like a small victory, the first time in this entire arrangement that I’ve had any real say in how we interact. Leo is still holding my hand, and the charged silence feels like it could turn into something more intimate.

I think he might lean closer, and part of me wants him to. The thought surprises me with its intensity.

Then the door opens and Mother appears, backlit by the emergency lighting in the hallway. “There you are. We were wondering where you’d gone.” Her tone is carefully neutral, but I catch the sharp look she gives me. “The power should be restored shortly.”

The moment is broken, and whatever connection might have developed between Leo and me disappears into careful public politeness.

“Of course,” Leo says smoothly. “We were just finding somewhere quieter to wait.”

“Very sensible.” Mother’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Sienna, perhaps you could help me gather our things?”

I follow her back down the hallway, leaving Leo alone in the smaller room.

“I hope you remember what we discussed in the car,” Mother says quietly as we walk.

“This is too important to treat carelessly. Your role is optics, not intimacy. Whatever you think you’re feeling, it’s just the pressure of the situation making you confused.

When you wise up, you don’t want to make it harder to get along with him. ”

I glare at her. “I’m not confused.”

“Good, because this marriage is business, and if you start believing otherwise, you’ll jeopardize everything your father and I have worked to build. Romance is a luxury we can’t afford right now.”

I’m stunned at her words, and the callous disregard for my needs or feelings, but I’m not really surprised. I’m a tool to be used when needed, not a cherished daughter who can expect love and support. I’ve known that for years, but they still find awful, terrible ways to remind me sometimes.

The lights flicker back on, ending our conversation before I can respond, but as we return to the main conference room and I take my place beside Leo again, he takes my hand and squeezes once under the table.

I squeeze back, letting him know our private communication system is working even if I have to pretend everything is a show.

My mother’s words stay with me, fueling my anger, but even as I entertain the idea of running away, I’m unsettled to realize I don’t want to.

It’s not that I want to protect my parents from consequences of their actions. Rather, I want to see where things are going with Leo. Knowing I’m choosing this marriage for myself makes it all easier to bear.