Page 38 of Arranged with Twins
“Have you ever fired a gun?” I position myself behind her, covering her hands with mine to demonstrate proper grip.
“Once. My father took me to a shooting range when I was sixteen. He said every Cooper should know how to handle firearms, though I didn’t realize at the time he wasn’t just a businessman.” She adjusts her stance according to my guidance. “I wasn’t terrible at it.”
“Good. That’ll make this easier.” I guide her through the basics, reminding her about sight alignment, trigger control, and breathing techniques. “The goal isn’t to make you a marksman overnight. It’s to give you options if you’re ever cornered.”
“Options.” She repeats the word thoughtfully. “I like having options.”
We work through basic drills for thirty minutes, and her natural coordination makes up for lack of experience. When she successfully puts three shots in the center ring of a target at fifteen yards, pride makes my chest constrict. I clear my throat to ease the pressure. “Better?” I ask as we return the gun to its case.
“Better.” She nods, then looks at me with a serious expression. “Leo, I need you to promise me something.”
I hesitate, not one to make a blind promise or give my word on something I can’t make happen. “What?”
“Promise me you won’t make major decisions about our future without talking to me first. I want to have real discussions about the wedding, where we live, and how we raise this child…anything important in a shared life.” Her voice is steady but determined. “I know you’re used to controlling everything, but this has to be a partnership, or it won’t work.”
The request is reasonable, but it goes against every instinct I’ve developed since taking control of my organization. Consultation takes time, creates opportunities for disagreement, and introduces variables I can’t control. It’s also what she needs from me if we’re going to build something real together. “I promise, as long as you promise to trust me when I say something is too dangerous.”
“Deal.” She extends her hand for a formal shake, and I take it, sealing an agreement that feels more binding than any contract I’ve ever signed.
Standing in my training facility with Sienna’s hand in mine, I realize everything I thought I knew about my future was wrong. I’m not just acquiring a wife and fulfilling an obligation to her father. I’m building a family and creating something worth protecting that extends far beyond business arrangements or strategic alliances. The thought should terrify me, but instead, it fills me with fierce determination to protect what’s mine and appreciate the gift before me.
13
Sienna
The Manhattan ballroom glitters like a jeweler’s display case between the ornate chandeliers and the ostentatious displays of jewelry on the guests. I stand beside Leo near the entrance, watching Manhattan’s elite filter through the doors with practiced smiles and calculating stares. My mother orchestrated tonight’s party with military precision, another showcase designed to cement our engagement in the public consciousness.
I wear the orange diamond ring Leo chose for me that actually reflects my taste rather than Katherine’s vision of appropriate jewelry. The stones catch the light as I adjust my clutch, sending small rainbows dancing across my black evening gown.
“Sienna.” Mother’s voice carries that particular tone of maternal disappointment she’s perfected as she approaches us. She positions herself between Leo and me with the skill of someone accustomed to controlling conversations. “We need to discuss your choice of accessories.”
“Do we?” I keep my voice pleasant despite the warning bells clanging in my head. “Is there something wrong with my jewelry?”
“That orange monstrosity you insist on wearing draws entirely the wrong kind of attention.” Mother’s smile never wavers, but her words carry acid. “People are starting to talk about the discrepancy between the ring in the engagement photos and what you wear in public.”
Leo opens his mouth to respond, probably to defend my choice the way he did during our lunch weeks ago.
I speak before he can intervene. “The ring Leo chose for me is the one I love, and I’ll continue wearing it.” I meet her gaze directly. “You can either accept that gracefully and handle the other ring as a mix-up accidentally given to the press, or I can tell my side of the story, which is the truth about how you tried to replace my fiancé’s thoughtful gift with something more suitable to your image.”
The threat is real. Mother’s composure flickers for just a moment before the charming social mask slides back into place. “Of course, darling. I simply wanted to ensure everything appeared coordinated.” She touches my arm with false affection. “We’ll handle the press confusion appropriately.”
She glides away to greet other guests, leaving Leo and me standing in the aftermath of what amounts to a small declaration of war. “Well done.” He sounds genuinely approving. “I was about to defend you, but you handled that perfectly.”
“I can stand up to my parents when it really matters.” I adjust the ring deliberately, making sure it catches the light. “I’m goingto have to do more of that because they’ll try to take control of… other things too.”
Leo understands immediately what I’m referencing. The baby growing inside me represents another opportunity for my parents to exert influence and make decisions they believe serve the family’s interests above my own.
“That won’t happen.” His voice carries absolute certainty. “Not while I’m here to prevent it.”
The promise is reassuring. For once, having Leo’s protective instincts aligned with my own desires feels like strength rather than constraint. “Thank you.” I reach for his hand, grateful for the support.
We share a moment of understanding that’s deeper than our usual careful politeness, which has slowly been fading in the past few days, since our night together, and when he realized I’m pregnant. The ballroom continues to swirl around us, but for these few seconds, we exist in our own bubble of mutual purpose.
“Sienna?” Nadia’s voice breaks through the temporary peace as she hurries toward us, fashionably late and slightly breathless. “Sorry I’m behind schedule. I had last-minute alterations for a client who apparently gained ten pounds since her fitting.”
She looks stunning in a cream dress that complements her blonde hair perfectly. Her gaze darts between Leo and me, clearly noting the way we stand closer together than usual.
“You look incredible.” I embrace her warmly, grateful for friendly reinforcement in hostile territory. “That color is perfect on you.”
