Bound By Blood: His Unwanted Contract Bride

The wheels of the luggage cart squeaked against the polished terrazzo floor of the LAX VIP terminal. Darleen pushed it forward, her knuckles white against the handle. The smell of jet fuel and expensive perfume hung heavy in the air.

Julian walked close to her side, his small hand gripping the hem of her coat. His eyes darted around the crowd, sharp and watchful. Aria skipped between them, her pigtails bouncing.

"Stay close," Darleen said, her voice tight.

Aria ignored her. The massive crystal chandelier in the center of the hall caught the light, throwing rainbows across the floor. Aria's eyes went wide. She gasped, pointing at the sparkling fixture.

"Mommy, look! A star!"

Before Darleen could grab her, Aria yanked her hand free. She darted into the sea of arriving passengers, her little legs pumping fast.

"Aria!" Darleen shrieked.

She let go of the cart. It rolled a few feet and crashed into a pillar. Darleen shoved past a man in a tailored suit, her eyes locked on the pink pigtails disappearing into the crowd. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the sound roaring in her ears.

Aria ran straight toward the center of the hall. She didn't see the silver-tipped cane. She didn't see the polished shoes.

Thud.

Aria bounced off the solid object and landed hard on her bottom. Her face scrunched up, ready to cry. She looked up, her gaze traveling up the expensive fabric of a suit, past a watch that cost more than a house, until she met a pair of sharp, pale blue eyes.

Thurston West glared down at the child. His jaw clenched, ready to scold the careless brat who had bumped into him. But as his eyes focused on the small face staring back at him, the words died in his throat.

The breath caught in his chest. The shape of her eyes. The stubborn set of her chin. The exact shade of her hair. It was a face he hadn't seen in thirty years, not since he had last looked at a photograph of his grandson as a toddler.

Darleen burst through the crowd. She dropped to her knees, her arms wrapping around Aria so tight the little girl squeaked.

"I'm so sorry," Darleen panted, her voice shaking. She looked up at the old man, her body angled to shield her daughter. "She didn't mean to. Are you okay, baby?"

Thurston didn't hear her apology. His gaze shifted past Aria, locking onto the boy who had just run up behind Darleen.

Julian stood there, his chest heaving from the run. He didn't cry, but stared at Thurston with a watchfulness far beyond his years, his small hand clutching his mother's coat as if ready to pull her away from danger.

Crack.

Thurston's cane struck the floor. His entire body began to shake. The blood drained from his face, leaving his skin papery and thin.

"Surround them," Thurston rasped.

Black suits moved in from the shadows. Within seconds, a wall of