Page 84 of Arranged with Twins
Moments later, a sharp cry fills the operating room. “Here’s your daughter,” Dr. Foxx announces, holding up a tiny, perfect baby girl covered in vernix and blood but absolutely beautiful.
“Elizaveta,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face as they clean her quickly and place her on my chest for a brief moment. “Hello, little love.” We’ve had their names selected for months, opting to honor Leo’s absent parents by passing on their names to our son and daughter.
Leo stares at his daughter with naked wonder. “She’s perfect. Look at those eyes. So blue.”
I feel another tugging sensation. Moments later, the doctor speaks again. “Here comes Baby B. Your son is eager to join his sister.”
Lev arrives two minutes later, slightly smaller than Elizaveta but equally perfect. The medical team works quickly to ensure both babies are healthy. Their cries fill the room, and it’s music to my ears. Leo moves to the twins’ incubators to observe the process while Dr. Foxx closes my incision with practiced precision
“Elizaveta and Lev Denisov,” Leo says softly a few minutes later when he returns to me, cradling both babies while I rest against the pillows. “I wish my parents could meet them. They would have loved all of you beyond measure.”
Watching him hold our children makes my heart expand in ways I didn’t know were possible. This man who once seemedcold and untouchable cradles our tiny babies like they’re made of spun glass, whispering to them in Russian and English about how much they’re loved.
“You’re a natural,” I say, exhausted but exhilarated. “Look how calm they are with you.”
“They know their father’s voice.” He settles Elizaveta more securely in the crook of his arm while Lev sleeps peacefully against his chest. “I’ve been talking to them for months.”
“The babies need to go back to the incubator, but we’ll move them to your room shortly,” says Dr. Foxx. “So far, there’s no indication they’ll need to spend any time in NICU.”
That’s a relief, and I insist Leo stays with the children after he hands them off to two different nurses. “I’ll be fine.”
“She will,” says Dr. Foxx. “A couple of hours in recovery, and she’ll join the three of you in the room.”
The restof the day passes in a haze of visitors and phone calls. Nadia arrives with flowers and tears, immediately claiming the role of honorary aunt. Ilya appears with a security detail that discreetly positions itself throughout the hospital, ensuring our privacy and safety.
“They’re gorgeous,” says Nadia, gently stroking Elizaveta’s tiny hand. “She’s going to be a fashionista like her mother.”
I laugh. “I suppose there are worse things, but I wouldn’t consider myself a fashionista.”
Nadia is still grinning when Ilya takes Lev with clear discomfort as Leo passes him over. “He’s going to be strong like his father and grandfather.” Ilya studies Lev with a serious expression. In response, Lev starts crying, and Elizaveta joins in. He rubs his ear and quickly passes our son back to Leo. “Good strong lungs on both of them.”
As evening settles over Manhattan, Leo and I finally have quiet moments alone with our children. The nurses have shown me how to breastfeed, and both babies are settling into a rhythm of eating and sleeping.
“I have something to tell you,” Leo says as we watch Lev sleep in his bassinet. “About the business.”
“What about it?” I adjust Elizaveta’s blanket, marveling at how small and perfect she is.
“You know I’ve stepped away completely from the…one side and have been for months?” I nod. “As of yesterday, the last of the questionable Denisov holdings have been sold and merged into other families. Raquel has removed any trace of a link to us and them.” He moves to sit on the edge of my hospital bed. “Thebratvaempire my father died for is now more.”
I give him a concerned look. Stepping back and having it completely out of his hands are vastly different. “How do you feel about that?”
“Relieved.” His answer comes without hesitation. “For the first time since I was seventeen, I can focus entirely on what matters most. You, Elizaveta, Lev, and the life we’re building together.”
I reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers. We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching our babies sleep and adjusting to the reality that we’re now parents. Themagnitude of responsibility feels overwhelming and wonderful simultaneously. I wish I could escape the contrasting heaviness of my thoughts as the minutes tick past.
“Sienna?” Leo asks eventually, clearly noticing my distraction. “What are you thinking about?”
I consider lying and telling him I’m just tired or emotional from giving birth. Instead, I decide to share the thought that’s been circulating in my mind since the babies arrived. “I want to reach out to my parents.”
He tenses slightly beside me. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Not for their sake,” I clarify quickly. “For mine, and for Elizaveta and Lev.” I look down at our sleeping daughter. “These babies deserve the chance to know their living grandparents, if Vincent and Katherine can prove they’re worthy of that privilege.”
He clearly doesn’t like the idea. “They betrayed you in the worst possible way.”
“I know.” I turn to meet his concerned gaze. “Still, maybe losing everything they valued—their money, their social standing, their reputation—will strip away the artificial parts of who they were. Maybe we’ll finally get to see if there’s anything real underneath.”
He looks skeptical. “What if there isn’t? What if they’re exactly who they showed themselves to be?”
