Page 4 of Arranged with Twins
When he speaks, his voice carries easily across the room without any apparent effort. “Sienna and I have known each other since childhood. Some connections are worth waiting for the right time to become more.” He glances down at me, and there’s something in his expression that might almost be genuine affection if I didn’t know better. “When the right person comes along, timing becomes irrelevant.”
It’s a perfect answer, romantic enough to satisfy the reporters but vague enough to avoid specific follow-up questions. I nod along, playing my part in this elaborate theater. I manage to keep my voice steady when the next question comes my way. “We’re still discussing details, but we’re both excited about the future.”
More flashes, more questions, and more careful non-answers that reveal nothing while seeming to share everything follow. Finally, after ten minutes of the cross-examination, Father raises his hands to quiet the crowd. “I think that’s enough for tonight. Let’s allow the young people to enjoy their engagement party.”
The crowd begins to disperse, and conversations resume as people discuss this new information and calculate how it might affect their own positions in the complex web of Manhattan society. Leo keeps his hand on my back as we step down from the stage, guiding me toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
His approval sounds genuine. “You did well.”
I manage a stilted smile that has no warmth. “Did I have a choice?”
“There’s always a choice, Sienna. The question is whether you’re willing to accept the consequences of making it.”
Before I can ask what he means by that, Mother appears at my elbow with a charming smile that’s no more authentic than the one I just gave him. I have to admit her timing is impeccable.
She gestures toward the terrace. “Darling, the Times photographer wants a few more shots of you and Leonid. He’s requesting something more intimate, so perhaps on the terrace?”
The terrace. Of course. Nothing says romance like expensive real estate with a view of Central Park.
I glance at Leo, who nods almost imperceptibly.
I smooth my expression into something pleasant. “Of course. Lead the way.”
The photographer directs us through a series of poses on the terrace. We’re hand in hand looking out over the park in one. In the next, after I shiver, the photographer catches the moment when Leo drapes his jacket over my shoulders. A second after that, he moves to stand behind me with his hands on the railing. Each shot captures what looks like romantic intimacy while being a carefully choreographed performance. The only genuine moment is when he unexpectedly gave me his jacket.
I didn’t want to feel something, but I did.
When the photographer finally finishes and disappears back into the ballroom, Leo and I are left alone on the terrace. The noise from the party becomes muffled through the glass, creating an oddly intimate bubble of space. The October air carries a chill that isn’t as sharp now that I’m wearing his soft wool jacket.
I should suggest we go back inside to maintain the polite distance appropriate to our situation. Instead, I study his profile. “Why did you agree to this?”
He sounds bored. “I told you earlier. It’s all about legitimacy and stability.”
I frown at him. “No, I mean why did you really agree to it? You could marry anyone. You could probably buy whatever legitimacy you think you need without tying yourself to someone who clearly doesn’t want to be here.”
He turns to face me fully, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed. The pose should look casual, yet there’s nothing relaxed about the way he watches me.
His voice drops lower, becoming more intimate. “Your father saved my life when I was seventeen, but not in some dramatic, heroic way. He gave me shelter when I had nowhere else to go. He asked for nothing in return, expecting no loyalty or future consideration. He simply helped because it was the right thing to do.”
I nod slowly, having a vague memory of the circumstances, though no one was eager to explain everything to seven-year-old me. “Now you’re returning the favor?”
He doesn’t look away from my face. “In part. There’s more to it than simple obligation.”
“Such as?”
Instead of answering, he lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “You’re not what I expected.”
I stare at him without blinking. “What did you expect?”
“Someone more compliant.” A corner of his lip curls upward in clear amusement. “I thought you’d be more eager to please. Your parents spoke of you as though you’d be grateful for this arrangement. Head over heels for me.”
I laugh, yet there’s no humor in it. “Yes, I’m sure they said plenty of things. They’ve been trying to marry me off to someone suitable since I graduated from university. They just never found the right combination of wealth and social standing until now.”
He seems unsettled for a second, either by my honesty or how my parents misled him. “I see. What would you choose for yourself, Sienna?”
The question catches me unprepared. It’s been so long since anyone asked what I wanted rather than telling me what I needed or what I would do. “I’d want to work. Not charity work or serving on boards like Mother but actually building something. I studied business at London School of Economics, not because my parents thought it would make me a better wife, but because I wanted to understand how things really work.”
He seems intrigued. “What if I told you this arrangement doesn’t have to be what you think it is?”
