Page 25 of Arranged with Twins
“Bad enough that protection is necessary. The details aren’t important right now, but you should know that this marriage provides you with legal safeguards you wouldn’t have otherwise.”
I want to ask more questions, to understand exactly what Father has done and how much trouble our family is really in, but Leo’s distant demeanor makes it clear this isn’t a conversation between partners. This is a briefing between a businessman and a client. I can’t pretend he doesn’t hold the balance of power here, and I can’t demand anything. “I’ll need time to review these,” I say, closing the folder without reading further.
“Of course. There’s no immediate rush, though it would be helpful to have everything finalized within the next week or two.”
I nod impassively. “I understand.”
We stand in silence for a moment, and he’s clearly preparing to leave. The meeting he scheduled to discuss our relationshiphas lasted less than fifteen minutes, most of which was spent on business matters. “Leo?” I say as he gathers his papers.
“Yes?”
“Last night...” I pause, trying to find words that won’t make me sound desperate or pathetic. “Did it mean anything to you?”
Something flickers across his expression, but it’s too quick for me to interpret. “It meant we both needed to release some tension. It was nothing more than that.”
The words hurt even though I should have expected them. I’ve been dismissed by men before, but never after sharing something that felt so intense and genuine. “Right. Of course.” I walk him to the door, maintaining what I hope is a dignified expression. “Thank you for clarifying the situation.”
“Sienna...” He pauses at the threshold, and I think he might say something that acknowledges what really happened between us, but he doesn’t seem to have the right words.
“It’s fine,” I say quickly, not wanting to hear whatever polite dismissal he’s preparing. “I understand completely. Business is business.”
“Exactly.” He nods once, then leaves without looking back.
I close the door behind him and lean against it, finally allowing myself to feel the full impact of his rejection. Last night, when he touched me, made love to me, and whispered my name like it was something precious, I thought we were building something real. This morning, he’s made it clear that I was reading far too much into what was just physical release for him.
I slide the orange diamond ring off my finger and examine it in the morning light, noting all the intricate details Nadia pointedout. The hidden halo, the careful metalwork, and the way the stones are arranged to catch and reflect light from every angle are genuinely impressive. Either Leo is a much better actor than I gave him credit for, or there’s more to his retreat this morning than simple regret over a momentary lapse in judgment.
The problem is, I don’t know which possibility scares me more. If he’s acting, then I’ve completely misread his character and his intentions. If he’s retreating because he’s scared of what’s developing between us, I have to decide whether I’m brave enough to fight for something he’s determined to deny.
I slip the ring back onto my finger and pick up the contracts he left behind. I need to understand what I’m actually agreeing to for this merger before I sign anything. The documents are dense with legal language, but I force myself to read through each clause carefully. If I’m going to be bound by these agreements, I should at least know what they say. I doubt anything I say could affect any changes in them beyond the token ones he’s made, but I should know the terms of my sacrifice before being led to slaughter.
8
Leo
The bass vibrates through the floors of Onyx, one of my three Manhattan clubs, as I make my way through the crowd toward the VIP section. The music is loud enough to discourage conversation while still allowing for business discussions, and the lighting creates pockets of privacy within the public space. It’s perfect for the show I need tonight.
I’m not here for pleasure. I hardly ever am. This appearance serves multiple purposes by showing strength to allies, reminding rivals that I remain active and visible, and demonstrating recent events haven’t rattled my operations. In my world, perception often matters more than reality, and right now, I need everyone to see Leo Denisov as completely in control.
The crowd parts naturally as I move through the space, conversations pausing as people recognize me and adjust their behavior accordingly. Some nod respectfully, others avert their eyes, and a few brave souls attempt to catch my attentionwith subtle gestures. I acknowledge the appropriate people with minimal nods while ignoring the rest.
My usual table in the VIP section overlooks the main floor, providing excellent sightlines while maintaining separation from the general population. The security team knows to expect me tonight, and my drink arrives without being ordered. Scotch, neat, and the same brand I’ve preferred for years.
“Mr. Denisov.” The server, a young woman with professional composure, sets down the glass with practiced precision. “Is there anything else I can bring you this evening?”
“This is fine for now.” I settle into the leather banquette and scan the room methodically, noting familiar faces and cataloging new ones. “Send word to Ilya that I’m ready for his briefing when he arrives.”
She nods and disappears, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the steady pulse of music that irritates me tonight. The solitude doesn’t last long. Within minutes, I notice movement at the edge of my peripheral vision as someone approaches the table. Tanya Mackey slides into the seat across from me without invitation, her smile bright and predatory.
I know Tanya from previous encounters spanning back several years. She’s beautiful in an obvious way, with platinum blonde hair and curves displayed to maximum advantage in an expensive dress. She’s also intelligent, connected, and useful when I need companionship for certain social functions.
What she isn’t is someone I want to see tonight.
“Leo.” Her voice carries a sultry undertone that once might have interested me. “I heard you were here. It’s been too long.”
“Tanya.” I don’t invite her to stay, don’t offer to buy her a drink, and don’t encourage this conversation in any way. “I’m waiting for a business meeting.”
“Since when has that stopped us before?” She leans forward, ensuring I have a clear view of her décolletage. “We could catch up properly later, after your meeting, in my apartment, like old times.”
