Page 53 of Arranged with Twins
A third message arrives with another photo timestamp from earlier this morning:“Adrian’s lieutenant Kozlov entered First National Private Banking shortly after opening this morning. Vincent’s last recorded visit was yesterday before closing. Pattern suggests coordinated activity.”
The timing is too precise to be coincidental. Vincent banks at First National, and having Adrian’s people access the same facility within hours of his visits suggests they’re monitoring his financial activities in real time. Either Vincent is reporting his transactions to them directly, or they have other means of surveillance that we haven’t detected. It’s likely they’re paying someone in the bank to leak information to them about Vincent’s accounts and balances.
“Is everything all right?” Sienna notices my distraction as I study the messages. “You look concerned.”
“Just business updates.” I mutter as I close the phone and slip it back into my jacket pocket. “It’s nothing that can’t wait until later.”
I hate lying to her, especially after last night’s declarations of love and honesty. Sienna deserves to know her father is in serious trouble, and his choices may have put our entire family at risk. She deserves the truth about the forces circling our relationship and the threats that extend beyond Adrian’s personal vendetta against me.
And yet… I can’t do it. This life isn’t hers. She needs to be protected from it, not stressed to the point of complications with her pregnancy. She’s still in her first trimester, the period when miscarriage risks are highest. In two weeks, she’ll enter the safer second trimester, and then I can tell her everything without worrying about stress-induced pregnancy loss.
Two weeks. I can protect her from this knowledge for two more weeks. It feels like a burden and a lifeline all at once. I’m not eager to tell her the truth, so I appreciate having two more weeks to do so, even as I worry about her reaction when she learns I kept the knowledge from her for an extended time.
My phone buzzes with another message from Ilya, and I remove it from my pocket to answer since Sienna seems lost in thought as she stares down at an ultrasound photo of our twins.
Ilya’s message reveals his concerns:“Recommend immediate escalation of surveillance protocols. Vincent’s situation appears critical.”
I type back quickly: “Agreed. Full coverage on all movements and communications. Report any contact with known Adrian associates immediately.”
The dots blink to indicate he’s typing before his next message arrives:“What about informing Sienna?”
Slanting another glance at her, I quickly type:“Not yet. Medical considerations require waiting until second trimester begins. Two weeks until then.”
There’s a pause before his next message.“Understood. Will maintain current operational security.”
“Thank you.”I put away the phone again and turn my attention back to Sienna, who’s still studying the ultrasound photos with obvious delight.
“I still can’t believe it’s real.” She traces her finger across one of the images and outlines the tiny profile of our daughter. “A boy and a girl. Do you have any preferences for names?”
The question forces me to shift mental gears and I let out a little sigh of relief. “I hadn’t given it much thought yet. Do you have ideas?”
“A few. Nothing definite.” She tucks the photos back into her purse carefully. “I keep thinking about family names, traditions, and what kind of legacy we want to pass down to them.”
“What kind of legacy do you want to pass down?” The question is laced with my own concerns about raising children in my world.
“Love, security, and the confidence to make their own choices.” Sienna meets my gaze. “I want them to know their parents chose each other and chose them, not out of obligation or arrangement, but because we wanted to build somethingtogether. I don’t ever want them to know our engagement started out as a business deal. I want a marriage, not a merger.”
Her words ease some of my tension. Sienna and I are building something authentic. Our children will grow up knowing they were wanted, planned for, and loved before they were even born. I’m certain she’ll forgive me for withholding the information about her father for a few weeks since she’s as determined to make this work as I am.
“They’ll have that.” I reach for her hand again, needing the connection. “Whatever else happens, they’ll know they were wanted and loved.”
“Promise?” There’s vulnerability in her voice that reminds me how much she’s trusting me, and how completely she’s committing to a future neither of us could have imagined four months ago.
“I promise.” The words carry more weight than any vow I’ve ever made. “I’ll protect them, you, and what we’re building together, no matter what it costs.”
When we arrive at her apartment building, I walk her to the elevator despite her protests that such attention isn’t necessary. The security team I’ve assigned to her building reports no unusual activity, but I check their positions anyway and ensure coverage is complete and communication protocols are functioning properly.
“Will I see you tonight?” Sienna asks as the elevator doors prepare to close.
“If you want to.” The response reveals more uncertainty than I like to show. Last night changed everything between us, andI’m still adjusting to the emotional vulnerability that comes with love.
“I want to.” Her smile is soft and genuine. “Come for dinner. I’ll cook something that won’t trigger morning sickness.”
“I’ll be there.” I press a quick kiss to her lips before the doors close, then watch the floor indicator until I know she’s safely in her apartment.
During the drive back to my office, I review the intelligence Ilya has gathered about Vincent’s deteriorating situation. This isn’t good. It’s not good at all, and I’m stuck in the middle of it with two kids on the way.
Vincent owes Adrian money he can’t repay. Adrian’s people are monitoring Vincent and tracking his every financial move. His legitimate business is under systematic attack, with containers disappearing and shipments disrupted in ways that bleed money and credibility.
