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The thought suddenly occurred to him that perhaps they had been together. Perhaps she had been taken captive too? But surely Valerio would have mentioned a woman.

Angelus interrupted his musings, launching into a detailed briefing on the latest developments in their joint sting operation.

The corrupt politician who had paid for the kidnap had already been brought to justice, shot by Angelus himself in self-defence. But they had evidence to prove the man hadn’t been working alone. That there was a criminal kingpin behind the operation and he was hell-bent on taking control of the large area of land that the Avelar family owned and used for their charitable operations in Rio and Sao Paolo. Tens of thousands of tenants stood to be displaced and abandoned.

Thankfully, Angelus had arranged for the land to become untouchable, locked it into use by the Avelar Foundation, securing the homes and livelihoods of the families they assisted.

Duarte hadn’t yet told Angelus that he remembered having lunch with that same politician just over a year before his kidnapping. Considering that Angelus was currently still recovering from near death because of his efforts to help Duarte, he didn’t think his revelation would be well received.

It plagued him—why would he choose to meet with a man who so vehemently opposed the Avelar family’s work in Rio? Their refusal to sell or redevelop prime land in what was considered an upper class area of the city had been the cause of a decades-long argument, dating back to his father’s inception of the foundation. His parents had taken on the cause of the most vulnerable in society by building quality, sustainable housing projects. They had directly opposed and ignored the handful of corrupt developers that wanted to earmark the area for a luxury tourism development.

Duarte vaguely remembered the months before his kidnapping. He had been tired from spreading himself too thinly between Velamar and his own fledgling nautical design firm, Nettuno. When the Avelar Foundation had needed his immediate presence in Rio due to a large and embarrassing fire safety scandal, he’d been furious and resentful.

He’d had a few drinks with the politician and somehow they’d got into talks about what might happen if he sold the land with their family name kept solely as a front. He’d had plenty of his own charitable projects going on. He simply hadn’t had the time required to pursue such a demanding cause.

Shame burned in his gut at the memory of that conversation.

But he would never have acted on it...he was almost sure. He vaguely remembered flying out of Rio determined to find another way to carry on his parents’ legacy and uphold his duty to the people relying on the foundation.

His memories were non-existent from that point, but his passport showed that he’d returned to Rio three times after that trip. Whatever he’d come back for, he’d kept secret and eventually he was going to be forced to admit his suspicions to Angelus... That the person who had started this hell was possibly himself.

The infinity pool on the boundary of the villa had been serviced and readied for his arrival, as per his instructions. He had never been more grateful as he tore off his clothes and dived under the water in his boxer shorts. The fresh salt water engulfed him, cutting off the frantic hum of his mind and replacing it with a calming nothingness that soothed the anxious roar within him. Even if the relief was only temporary.

Anger and frustration had him doing more lap

s than usual, pushing his body to its physical limits as though reminding himself of his strength.

Teaching his damaged body how to walk and move again had been a nightmare, but he had done it. He had shocked his team of physiotherapists and smashed all their expectations. So much so that soon the staff and other patients would gather to watch him slice through the water at incredible speeds.

He’d thought that was the reason he’d become a minor celebrity in the small community, never realising that many of the staff had already been aware of his identity and had been paid heavily by Angelus for their silence.

Even without his memories he had felt the same connection to water, the same need that he’d had his whole life to swim or be out on the open sea.

It had been on that same beach that a strange man and woman had arrived and introduced themselves as his sister and his best friend. He’d remained silent as they tried to gauge how little he remembered. He soon found out that not only had he been a competitive swimmer and sailor throughout his teenage years and into his twenties, but he had apparently turned that passion into a career and was the co-founder of one of the biggest luxury yacht charter firms in the world.

Going from being an abandoned John Doe with no knowledge of his past to having his dream life presented to him should have been enough, he thought darkly. And yet he had been plagued by the thought that there was something vital he was missing—something he needed to do before his spirit would rest and accept his survival for what it was.

A second chance.

He lifted himself from the water with only minimal pain and stepped under the blistering hot spray of the outdoor waterfall shower. The heat loosened his muscles the rest of the way, ensuring that he would sleep without medication.

The heavy painkillers he’d been given on the island had become a dangerous crutch in the weeks after he’d awoken. His pain had been a relentless presence, along with the anxiety that stopped him sleeping or eating. Soon he’d begun to crave the oblivion those pills offered, and he had progressed to hoarding his dosages to achieve the maximum effect. Luckily, the nurses had recognised the signs and had made it impossible for him to continue down that path.

When a man was in constant pain, anything could become a vice, so he had adopted a strict, clean lifestyle and focused on healing his body naturally. But even now that he had his physical regimen under control, he still felt that restless hunger within him at times. It was as if he had come back to life with a great big chunk of himself missing, and no matter what he did...nothing filled the space.

His thoughts wandered back to the first moment he’d laid eyes on the woman from his dreams. Nora. How she had looked at him in that rain-soaked street, the shock and relief on her delicate features right before she’d embraced him. He’d felt something shift within him, as if something in his broken mind had awoken and growled mine.

Perhaps they had been lovers before his accident? She was certainly eye-catching, with her vibrant red waves of hair and large silver eyes. The thought of the two of them together filled him with a rush of sensual heat—until he remembered that she had been heavily pregnant with another man’s child when he’d found her.

If they had been lovers, she had clearly moved on quickly.

Shrugging off the dark turn his thoughts had taken, he reminded himself of the more pressing matter that she was clearly in need of help and fearful of some unknown force. Afraid enough to pack up her life and move cities in an advanced stage of pregnancy.

He winced, remembering how he had told her he would get his answers. Suddenly the idea of getting answers seemed overshadowed by the idea that she might fear him. She was made of steel, that much was clear, and yet he’d seen flashes of vulnerability on her face that had made him tense with the primal need to protect.

His fists clenched tight and he shut off the water with an impatient growl. From the villa’s hilltop vantage point he could see the last rays of the late evening sun glittering on the waves of the Atlantic below. He took a deep breath and wrapped a towel low on his hips, inhaling and exhaling the salty spray until he felt a sense of calm logic return.

If he had any chance of getting information from Nora he would first need to gain her trust. She was a new mother, in dire need of help, but he got the feeling that she would not accept help from him easily. Luckily for him, patience had always been something he had in abundance.

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