Leo pressed his back against a massive marble pillar outside the VIP security corridor. He peeked his head around the edge.

At the far end of the corridor, Everette Baird was walking toward him.

Everette wore a custom Tom Ford suit, pitch black. He moved with a predatory grace, his aura so cold it felt like a physical wall pushing people out of his way.

Joshua walked half a step behind him, speaking rapidly. "The hostile takeover of the Silicon Valley tech firm is in motion, sir."

Everette's brow furrowed. "Clean them out. Every executive on their board is gone by tomorrow."

Leo watched them approach. He calculated the distance and Everette's walking speed in his head.

He turned and walked over to the counter of a nearby Starbucks. He stood on his tiptoes and grabbed a Venti hot Americano that someone had just ordered.

The barista was looking down at the cash register, completely missing the theft.

Leo walked back to his pillar, holding the scalding cup in both hands. He took a deep breath.

When Everette's leather shoes stepped onto the third marble tile from the pillar, Leo launched himself forward.

He intentionally let his foot slide on the polished marble. He lost his balance and fell straight toward Everette's long legs.

With a dull thud, Leo's head collided with the hard muscle of Everette's thigh.

The Venti Americano flew out of Leo's hands. The dark liquid arched through the air and splashed directly onto Everette's custom suit jacket and crisp white shirt.

The dark brown stain ruined the fifty-thousand-dollar suit instantly. Steam rose from the fabric.

Joshua gasped, stepping forward. "Where did this stray kid come from?"

Four men in black suits materialized instantly. The bodyguards surrounded Leo, dropping the temperature in the corridor to absolute zero.

Everette stopped moving. He looked down at his ruined clothes. A flash of pure, violent rage ignited in his eyes.

He slowly lowered his head, his gaze slicing down like a blade toward the boy sitting on the floor.

Leo sat on the marble, rubbing his forehead. He didn't cry. Instead, he tilted his head up and met Everette's terrifying stare without flinching.

When Everette saw the boy's amber eyes, his heart physically stuttered in his chest.

The breath was knocked out of his lungs. Those eyes. They were exactly like Deliah's.

The rage in Everette's throat vanished, replaced by a sudden, suffocating tightness. He raised a hand, signaling the bodyguards to back off.

Leo dusted off his pants and stood up. He looked up at the giant of a man.

"Sir," Leo said, his voice clear and serious. "Your suit is ruined. But my mom can pay for it."

Joshua stared at the boy in absolute shock, his professional composure cracking for a fraction of a second, though he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Everette shot Joshua a look so cold it made the assistant snap his mouth shut.

Everette slowly crouched down until he was eye-level with the boy. "What is your name? Where are your parents?"

Leo crossed his arms over his chest. A sly smile touched his lips. "I'm Leo. My mom is super pretty. And she's single."

A harsh, breathless sound escaped Everette's chest. He was actually amused. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"I see you have a lot of money," Leo continued, his tone completely business-like. "If you agree to be my stepdad, you don't even have to give me change for the coffee."

Joshua stared at the boy in absolute horror. No one spoke to the tyrant of Wall Street like this.

Everette stared at Leo's face. It was the eyes-amber, intelligent, and carrying a stubborn light that was an exact echo of Deliah's. The sight struck a deep, buried chord inside him.

Everette stood up. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the coffee from his hand.

"Fine," Everette said, his voice a low rumble. "Take me to this single mother of yours."

Back in the Air France VIP lounge, Deliah jerked awake.

She sat up so fast her vision blurred. The cashmere coat slipped from her shoulders onto the floor. The spot next to her on the sofa was empty.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She grabbed her purse and sprinted to the front desk. "My son," she said, her voice shaking. "Did you see a five-year-old boy?"

The attendant shook her head apologetically.

The blood drained from Deliah's face. Separation anxiety, a leftover symptom from a trauma she couldn't even remember, gripped her throat. She couldn't breathe.

She shoved through the glass doors and ran out into the terminal. She pushed past travelers, her eyes darting frantically.

"Leo!" she screamed, the sound tearing at her vocal cords.

Panic made her stomach cramp. Just as she was about to grab a security guard, she heard a familiar, bright laugh coming from the duty-free shops.

Deliah whipped her head around. She shoved through a group of tourists and ran toward the sound.

Leo was standing there, perfectly safe, holding a piece of chocolate someone had given him.

Deliah dropped to her knees and pulled him into her chest, crushing him against her. Tears spilled hot down her cheeks.

"Don't you ever do that again," she scolded, her voice cracking. "Do you know how scared I was?"

Leo patted her back, looking guilty. "Mom, I'm sorry. I was just finding you a husband."

Deliah froze. She pulled back, confused by his words.

Before she could speak, a voice drifted down from above her. It was deep, raspy, and heavy with an oppressive weight.

"Is this how you teach manners, ma'am?"

Deliah's spine stiffened. She realized Leo had caused trouble. She stood up quickly, pushing Leo behind her legs to protect him.

She kept her eyes on the floor, staring at the ruined, coffee-stained fabric of the man's suit. "I am so sorry. I will pay for all the damages."

She lifted her head as she spoke, her gaze traveling up the sharp lines of the suit, up the strong column of his neck, until she met his face.

Their eyes locked.

The air in the terminal vanished.

Everette's pupils dilated so fast his eyes looked entirely black. His massive frame went completely rigid, as if he had been struck by lightning.

The custom phone in his hand slipped from his grip. It hit the marble floor with a sharp crack, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of glass.

His breathing turned ragged. He stared at the face in front of him. The exact face he had mourned for five agonizing years. The edges of his vision turned red.

Deliah took a step back. The man's eyes were terrifying. They looked like they wanted to devour her alive.

Everette lunged. His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. His grip was bone-crushing, desperate, burning hot against her skin.

"Deliah," he choked out. The name tore from his throat like a physical wound.

Deliah winced, her brow furrowing in pain. She yanked her arm, trying to break his hold. "Sir, you have the wrong person. Let me go."

Everette felt the rapid pulse beating against his palm. She was warm. She was alive. The possessive madness inside him exploded.

Behind him, Joshua gasped, his face turning pale as he saw the woman's face.

Deliah twisted her wrist hard, finally breaking free from his grip. She reached into her purse with shaking hands, pulled out a business card, and shoved it against his rigid chest.

"Here is my card," she said, her voice cold and distant. "I will cover the full cost of cleaning or replacing your suit. Please send the bill to my assistant. Goodbye, sir."

Everette didn't look at the card. He stepped forward, his massive body forming an impenetrable wall between Deliah and the exit.

He glanced down at the back of his hand, which was slightly red from the hot coffee. "A card isn't enough."

Deliah frowned, pulling Leo tighter against her leg. "What exactly do you want?"

Everette lied without blinking. "My arm has second-degree burns. You are going to escort me to a clinic to have it treated."

Joshua's eyes widened. The red mark didn't even need a band-aid. But he kept his mouth shut.

Deliah checked her watch. Her pulse spiked. She had less than two hours before the dress rehearsal at the Manhattan fashion show.

"I can give you double the medical expenses right now," she offered, her tone desperate.

Everette's eyes were dead and cold. "I don't need your money."

Leo tugged on Deliah's coat. "Mom, let's just go with the mister. It was my fault."

Deliah looked at her son, then at the immovable man blocking her path. She let out a frustrated breath. She had no choice.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in the back of a black Rolls-Royce Phantom. The air pressure inside the car was suffocating.

Everette sat across from Deliah. His eyes roamed over every inch of her face, searching for scars, for any sign of plastic surgery. He was dissecting her with his stare.

Deliah felt her skin prickle under his gaze. She turned her head, staring out the tinted window to avoid him.

The car pulled up to a private VIP medical center near the airport. A doctor rushed in to examine Everette's hand.

The doctor looked at the faint red mark and opened his mouth to say it was fine. Then he met Everette's murderous glare. The doctor swallowed hard. "It... needs an ice pack and observation."

Everette sat in the treatment chair. He closed his eyes as the ice pack was applied, forcing his breathing to slow down.

Deliah's phone vibrated violently in her pocket. It was Mara, the show coordinator, demanding she get to the venue immediately.

Deliah looked at the man with his eyes closed. She made a decision.

She stood up silently. She pulled all the cash from her wallet and placed it on the glass coffee table, along with her business card.

She grabbed Leo's hand. They tiptoed to the door, opened it a fraction of an inch, and slipped out into the hallway. They ran for the emergency exit.

Five minutes later, Everette's eyes snapped open.

The faint scent of citrus perfume in the air was fading.

He turned his head. The sofa was empty.

Everette ripped the ice pack off his hand and threw it. He stood up so fast the heavy chair scraped harshly against the floor.

Joshua opened the door to report, saw the empty room, and froze.

Everette walked to the table and picked up the business card. His eyes locked onto the title: Architect & Guest Designer.

"Sir," Joshua said nervously. "You have a three-billion-dollar merger board meeting on Wall Street in an hour."

Everette crushed the business card in his fist. "Cancel everything. Get the car."

"The penalty fees-"

Everette shot him a look so lethal Joshua stopped breathing.

Everette stalked out of the clinic, his body radiating the dark energy of a predator tracking its prey.

He got into the back of the Rolls-Royce. "Lincoln Center," he ordered the driver. "I will tear this city apart to find her."