The Exiled Heiress And Her Secret Triplets

The heavy mahogany door of the VIP lounge slammed shut behind Charlie Castro, the brass latch clicking into place.

The air inside the private room was freezing. Holden Bentley, CEO of Bentley Global and Leo's father, sat with his long legs crossed in a black leather armchair, a stack of Bloomberg financial acquisition briefs resting across his knee.

His cropped dark hair framed facial features as sharp and unyielding as carved marble. In his hooded dark eyes lay a frost that never seemed to thaw. The hard sweep of his brows and the deep-set shape of his eyes bore an uncanny resemblance to Toby's, as though the six-year-old boy's features had been shaped from the same mold.

The moment the door closed, Charlie wiped the vicious sneer from her face. She smoothed her tweed jacket, adopting a fragile, doting expression while her eyes welled with practiced tears.

Under the cover of her sleeve, she pinched the small of Leo's back, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

"Leo, go to Daddy now. Don't make Daddy wait."

Leo sucked in a sharp breath as the pinch bruised his skin. His face turned pale, but under Charlie's warning glare, he walked toward the sofa with his head down.

Holden closed the file in his lap. His gaze shifted to the boy's frail frame, the icy barrier in his dark eyes softening by a fraction.

He extended a broad, calloused hand, guiding Leo to stand securely against his knee.

"Where did you go?" Holden asked, his deep baritone carrying quiet authority. "Your recovery protocol isn't over. You were cleared to travel, not to wander through the terminal alone."

Leo kept his eyes on his polished shoes, his small fingers twisting together. "I'm sorry, Daddy... I went to wash my hands and took a wrong turn."

Holden rested one large hand over Leo's dark curls. "Next time, call Gavin or one of the security team. You don't leave their sight."

Leo nodded quickly, his tense shoulders easing beneath his father's touch.

Charlie drifted across the plush rug, attempting to sit on the wide armrest right beside Holden's shoulder. A heavy cloud of floral perfume invaded the space.

Holden's brow twitched with immediate revulsion. Without looking at her, he leaned back into the leather seat, casually widening the distance between them by over a foot.

"Holden, I only wanted to—" Charlie began, lowering her lashes as practiced tears gathered along them.

"Whatever it is, later." Holden's voice was flat and final. His attention remained on Leo.

Charlie's smile tightened. Beneath the fragile expression, fury flashed through her green eyes, but she swallowed it before Holden could look up.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Gavin, his chief executive aide, stepped inside and inclined his head respectfully.

"Mr. Bentley, the armored motorcade to the Manhattan headquarters is lined up on the tarmac."

Holden bent down, his large hands slipping securely beneath Leo's arms to lift the boy into his embrace with effortless ease.

Leo rested his chin against his father's broad, sturdy shoulder, finally able to breathe after the suffocating tension. His small hands gripped the expensive fabric of Holden's charcoal suit jacket.

Holden turned on his heel and strode toward the door, not sparing Charlie a single backward glance.

Charlie stood frozen in the center of the room, her manicured nails digging into the leather of her handbag. Then she forced her expression back into its doting mask and hurried after the security detail.

Out on the private tarmac, Holden carried Leo into the back of the extended Cadillac. The heavy door clicked shut, sealing out the noise of the airport.

Holden looked down at the boy in his lap, his thumb brushing against Leo's cold cheek.

"Did someone bother you out there?"

Leo shook his head. "No. I almost fell, but a lady caught me."

Leo thought of the stunning woman—the warmth of her arms and the fierce gentleness in her eyes. He closed his eyes against his father's chest.

Holden adjusted the collar of the boy's blazer. As he leaned in, a faint, lingering trace of lavender and rainwater caught his breath.

Holden's eyes narrowed. It was the exact scent that had vanished into thin air six years ago.

He pressed the intercom beside the privacy partition.

"Gavin. Pull every security feed from the private terminal."

Gavin's voice came through the speaker at once. "What am I looking for, sir?"

Holden's hand settled protectively against the back of Leo's head, his gaze turning dark and merciless.

"The woman who caught my son. I want her name before we reach Manhattan."