Page 37 of Arranged with Twins
I nod. “Is the tea bothering you?”
“Everything’s bothering me. Smells, tastes, and textures I used to love make me want to gag now.” She finally turns to face me,and I see the fear she’s trying to hide behind practical concerns. “How am I supposed to hide this from my parents when I can’t even drink coffee without getting sick?”
The question brings us back to immediate logistics. “ Stress can cause similar symptoms. They’ll accept that explanation for now, and it’s not like you live with them.”
“Right.” She sighs harshly. “They probably won’t even notice anyway, at least not for a while. What about in a month though? Or two months? When I start showing?”
“We’ll deal with those scenarios as they arise.” I stand and move toward her, drawn by the vulnerability in her voice. “Right now, our priority is keeping you safe, so it’s better if no one else knows besides you, me, Nadia, and Ilya.”
She quirks a brow. “Ilya?”
I nod. “He’s my head of security and my second in command…Sovietnik. He has to know about any vulnerabilities, but he’s discreet. He’ll understand our priority.”
“Our priority?” Her laugh holds no humor. “Or your priority?”
“Both. They’re the same thing now.”
The admission is more meaningful than any declaration of love or commitment. We both understand what I’m really saying. Her safety has become more important than my own and protecting her and our child will drive every decision I make from this point forward.
“I had plans.” Her voice is quiet, almost lost. “I was going to apply for fashion programs or maybe start my own business. When I turned thirty and got control of my trust fund, I wasgoing to travel more and experience things my parents never allowed.”
“You still can.” The words come out before I fully consider their truth. “Having a child doesn’t mean abandoning your dreams.”
“Doesn’t it?” She meets my stare directly. “How do I build a career when I’m in a merger with someone whose enemies want to eliminate his bloodline? How do I travel when leaving your protection means risking not just my life, but our baby’s?”
The questions are valid and impossible to answer with easy reassurances. The truth is that marrying me does limit her options, pregnancy or not. Adding a child to the equation narrows those possibilities even further. “I don’t know.” The admission comes reluctantly, “But we’ll find ways to give you choices and build something that works for both of us.”
“Will we?” She searches my face for something, hope maybe, or at least honesty. “Or will you make decisions based on what you think is safest, regardless of what I want?”
The accusation stings because it’s probably accurate. My instinct is to lock her away somewhere secure until this pregnancy is over and our child is old enough to defend themselves. The rational part of my mind knows that approach will destroy any relationship we might build.
“I’m trying to balance keeping you alive with respecting your autonomy.” I reach for her hand, relieved when she doesn’t pull away. “It’s not an easy balance to strike.”
“I know.” She tightens her fingers around mine. “I’m scared, Leo, and not just of Adrian or the danger, but of losing myself completely in all this.”
The quiver in her voice makes my chest ache. “What would help? What do you need from me?”
“Information and honesty about what we’re facing.” She steps closer. “Perhaps just some sense that I’m your partner in this, not someone you’re protecting.”
“You are my partner.” The words come naturally, and I speak them from somewhere inside that is on board with giving her the full truth. “In this, in raising our child, and whatever we do next.”
“Then prove it.” Her chin lifts with familiar determination. “Start by teaching me to defend myself properly.”
The request surprises me. “Sienna?—”
“You said pregnant women become targets. Fine. Then teach me how to be a target who can fight back.” Her voice grows stronger as she speaks. “I refuse to be helpless, no matter how much security you surround me with.”
The idea of putting a weapon in her hands while she’s carrying our child should horrify me. Instead, I consider the logic of her argument. If she’s going to be in danger regardless, it’s better that she knows how to respond.
“All right.” The decision feels both right and terrifying. “We do this properly though. I want you in a controlled environment without taking unnecessary risks.”
“Agreed.” She smiles for the first time since last night, and the transformation is remarkable. “When do we start?”
“Now.” I glance at the clock, calculating schedules and security arrangements. This is more important than anything else on my calendar. “I’ll have Ilya clear the training facility downstairs.”
An hour later, we stand in my private gymnasium, a space most people never see. The room is equipped with everything needed for serious physical training, including weights, mats, and a shooting range that meets competition standards.
I place a Glock 19 in Sienna’s hands, watching her reaction carefully. She holds the weapon with appropriate respect, not the fear I expected.
