Returning To Claim His Heir

by Amanda Cinelli

  ‘She has been lying to you this whole time!’

  ‘When I found her she was just about to give birth, and she is being hunted by men she fears,’ Duarte gritted. ‘I quickly figured out that she was part of the organisation. Her personal relationship to Cabo is her own business. She’s done nothing to me.’

  Except lie to me. Such convincing lies.

  ‘She has a child?’ Fiero frowned. ‘There’s nothing about that in there.’

  ‘He was born the day I arrived in Rio.’ Duarte stood, running a hand over his scar as his mind processed the information he’d recovered with his memory. ‘That’s why I’ve had her under my protection.’

  He didn’t mention the fact that he’d also kept her here longer because he’d been enjoying her company, slowly courting her. He felt the older man’s eyes on him, could practically hear him silently screaming at him not to be such a fool.

  ‘I’m going to need time to process this.’

  Angelus nodded and left just as stealthily as he’d arrived, his cane clicking as he departed from the house.

  Even when the sound of his car’s wheels had long disappeared up the driveway Duarte stood frozen at his desk, his mind going over and over all the information and wondering what it was about it that felt so wrong.

  Nora had just finished settling Liam for his morning nap and now stood frozen on the staircase as she watched Angelus Fiero emerge into the entrance hall at the front of the house. She froze, anxiety stealing her voice.

  She’d already been on tenterhooks since slipping back into her own bed in the early hours of that morning. She’d wanted to wake Duarte before she left and just get it over with. Tell him everything. But he’d been sleeping so peacefully, and she’d known her son would wake for his usual feed at dawn, so she’d left.

  No matter how hard she’d tried to hold on to the afterglow of their night together, she’d spent the morning with a steadily increasing sense of dread in her gut. And when Inés had told her that Angelus Fiero had arrived, and he and Duarte had disappeared to speak in private, she’d prayed she wasn’t too late.

  The older man paused for a split second when he saw her, and then looked back towards the open door of Duarte’s study down the hall. When he spoke, his voice was low.

  ‘Finally I get to meet our selfless informant.’ He narrowed his eyes at her, not with cruelty but not entirely kindly either. ‘Surely you must have known that giving us that information would reveal your identity... Eleanora?’

  She heard her birth name and something within her shattered. He knew. That meant Duarte knew. She’d waited too long to tell him and now...

  The older man must have seen something in her face because he shook his head sadly. ‘Just so you know, I came here expecting to leave with you in a police car.’

  Nora felt cold fear sink into her bones, freezing her where she stood on the last step of the marble staircase.

  ‘But you can relax. Apparently you planned your seduction well. Clever girl.’ Angelus Fiero tutted, brushing invisible dust from his lapel. ‘He’s a better man than most.’

  ‘I did not plan for any of this,’ she said. She heard the steel in her voice and wondered how on earth she’d managed it when her legs felt like jelly beneath her.

  The older man raised one brow, surprised. ‘It doesn’t matter. The situation remains the same. Goodbye, Senhorita Cabo.’

  Angelus Fiero’s voice had been a thin rasp in the echoing entrance hall, and the weight of his words remained in the air long after his car had disappeared down the driveway. She wanted to scream after him that it was not her name. It had not been her name for eighteen years of her life. She might have been a naïve teenager when she had been drawn into her father’s world, but she had never taken his name.

  She took a few shaky steps towards the study, where her reckoning awaited her. She hesitated, and braced her hand on the wall for support as she fought to compose herself. She was angry at herself—at her own cowardice and selfishness. And angry at the history she and Duarte had shared and how they seemed destined to hurt one another over and over again.

  She stood in the doorway of the study and took in the silhouette of Duarte’s powerful frame against the light from the window. He faced away from her, both hands braced on the ledge as he stared out into nothingness.

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood in silence, just listening to the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. But eventually she must have made some barely perceptible sound because he spoke, still with his back turned to her.

  ‘I assume you met Angelus Fiero on your way here?’

  His words were a slash of sound in the painful silence, devoid of any emotion or the kindness she’d come to know from him.

  ‘Yes.’

  Nora fought not to launch into her own defence—fought to give him time to speak. She let her eyes roam over him, already mourning the feeling of being in his arms. He wore sand-coloured chinos and a navy polo shirt—sailing clothes, she thought with a pang of remorse. He’d told her he planned to take them all out on O Dançerina...

  Without warning, Duarte turned to face her, then leaned back against the window ledge and folded his arms over the wide muscled expanse of his chest as he surveyed her. Nora felt as if all the air had been sucked from her chest. The look in his eyes was a mirror image of that day in Rio, when he had walked past her in her father’s entrance hall. It was like a cruel joke, having to relive one of the most painful moments of her life.

  ‘Nothing to say?’ he prompted, his voice cold as ice.

  ‘I wanted to tell you. Once I was sure you wouldn’t turn me in to the police...’ She inhaled deeply, biting her bottom lip hard to stop her voice from shaking. ‘I promised myself I would tell you yesterday, but then you were so wonderful. I couldn’t find the right words...the right moment. I was a coward.’

  ‘Yes. You were.’ He met her eyes for the first time, assessing her. ‘Did you know about your father’s connection to my parents’ death?’

  She felt her blood run cold. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He ordered their murder. Staged it to look like an accident.’

  He slid a file across the desk between them and she saw the brief flash of pain on his face as he spoke the words. She felt them hit her somewhere squarely in her solar plexus. She picked up the file with shaking hands, noticing the highlighted dates and names, reading that further investigations by the police detective in charge of the case had shown the report to be true.

  Each line brought to her a sense of horror she’d never felt, and her stomach seemed to join in, lurching painfully. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ she breathed, dropping the file to the floor and seeing the pages scatter in a blur of motion.

  She heard Duarte move around the desk to her side, touching her elbow briefly to guide her into one of the armchairs beside the tall bookcases that lined the room. Nora took a deep breath, then another, until finally the nausea and dizziness passed.

  When she looked up again he stood at the bookcase, watching her intently. ‘I swear I didn’t know.’ She shook her head, fresh hatred burning within her for the man who had caused so many people pain. ‘I hope he rots in hell.’

  Duarte looked away from her. ‘I plan to ensure he never sees another day of freedom for the rest of his miserable life.’

  ‘Prison is too good for him.’

  ‘And what about you?’ He looked down at her. ‘You handed me that thumb drive, knowing it held evidence that could put you away too.’

  ‘I hoped you would understand. I chose to...to trust you.’

  ‘Listen to yourself.’ He raised his voice. ‘You chose to trust me? I have never lied to you once. I have given you nothing but time and patience.’

  Nora felt his eyes on her, felt the question in his words, but her shame and regret was too much. She closed her eyes and pressed a ha
nd across the frantic beating of her own heart, trying to gather her remaining strength and get through this.

  When she opened her eyes, he had moved closer. She bit her lower lip, seeing the distaste in his gaze. Then took a deep breath, knowing the moment had come for her to give him the truth he deserved. She only prayed she would be able to take his reaction.

  ‘Your parents were being honoured posthumously in the Dia da Patria festivities. You came to Rio to accept their honour. I was sent to find you—to get information from you that my father could use against you for blackmail, to make you sign over that land.’

  She placed her hands on her knees, avoiding his face, but she heard his swift intake of breath.

  ‘We danced, flirted, then we walked along the beach and talked. You told me many things I could have used against you. About your sister, about your plans for the future. You were as shocked as I was that you’d given so much away. After our first kiss, I decided to defy my father and pretend my recording equipment had failed. I liked you. I said I was going to the bathroom and disappeared. But the next day you found me at school. I’d mentioned where I went to college and you wanted to return my coat...’

  She shivered, remembering the sheepish look on his face when she’d emerged from her lecture to see him leaning against the bonnet of his sportscar, her classmates gawking at such a beautiful specimen of a man.

  ‘But that’s not the end of it,’ he prompted. ‘I remember...more.’

  ‘There was more. You stayed in town for a week and we became...intimate. You returned a few days later and we continued our affair. It carried on like that for a month—until my father found out what was going on.’

  ‘He threatened to hurt you...’ Duarte spoke slowly.

  ‘He threatened me in order to force your hand but you walked away. He was bluffing.’

  ‘But my passport records show I took one more trip to Brazil, two months after that.’

  ‘You tracked me down again, all anger and imperiousness. Still, we never could keep our hands off each other for long. I walked away from you that time. Only...we didn’t use protection.’

  Nora watched the realisation enter his eyes, moving into shock and narrowing to a deathly glimmer. He swallowed a few times, his voice seeming to fail him before he spoke.

  ‘Are you telling me... Liam...?’ His voice was a rasped whisper.

  ‘I didn’t want to lie to you,’ she breathed, feeling her throat catch.

  She had no idea how to make him see why she’d waited. To tell him if she could have gone back in time she’d have told him the moment he’d appeared on that street in the rain. But now it was such a mess...

  The space between them seemed to shorten and the room felt too small. It felt as if minutes of silence passed as they simply looked at one another, Nora still frantically trying to voice the truth she waited to give him.

  ‘You are sure I am his father?’ Duarte’s question was like a gunshot in the silence.

  She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. She would not cry in front of him. She had done enough crying over Duarte Avelar and all the strange, dangerous turns her life had taken since she’d met him.

  She had often wondered how an intelligent woman like her mother had ever allowed herself to be controlled by a wealthy man. Why she had feared him. But now, looking up at the cold golden glint of Duarte’s eyes on hers, knowing the sheer power he had at his fingertips, she was afraid.

  She felt utterly powerless as she spoke, as if she was putting herself entirely at his mercy. She silently prayed that she wouldn’t regret it.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Liam is your son.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  DUARTE DIDN’T KNOW how long he remained silent, her words repeating themselves over and over in his mind as he fought to process them.

  His son. He had a son.

  An infant he had protected from the moment he was born...

  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them Nora was staring at him, her large eyes so innocent and filled with sadness. He felt anger burn in his gut.

  ‘Were you ever going to tell me?’

  He heard the coldness of his voice and saw the way she flinched as he took a step towards her, but he was past caring. His logical side had been overtaken by pure outrage in the wake of her deceit.

  ‘You don’t understand...’ She frowned, standing and taking a few steps away from him.

  Duarte closed the space between them easily. ‘Explain it to me, then.’ He loomed over her, seeing her shoulders curve and her face turn a little paler. He heard his voice explode from him in a guttural growl. ‘Explain why—even after seeing I was still alive, even after I offered you my protection and proved I was not a danger to you—you still decided to keep the knowledge that Liam was my own child from me?’

  ‘I wanted to tell you from the first moment, but I didn’t trust you. I needed to be sure you weren’t a danger. You know who my father is—you know what he would do if he knew that not only are you alive but I had also given birth to your son. I was protecting us both. Protecting Liam.’

  Her voice cracked on the last word—the first genuine loss of control he’d seen in her. She bit down hard on her lower lip, holding back the obvious emotion welling in her eyes.

  ‘My son is my first priority. He didn’t ask to be born into a world of danger and constant threat. It’s my duty to keep him safe.’

  ‘You think I would allow any harm to come to my own child?’ The words felt both strange and right as he spoke them aloud. His child. His son. ‘I deserved to know. All this time we’ve spent together...’

  She looked up at him, her face a mask of barely controlled pain. ‘I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I think that’s why I was delaying the inevitable.’

  ‘That was not your choice to make.’

  ‘It was better than having no choice at all.’

  She spoke quietly, but he heard a thin thread of steel as it wound into her voice.

  ‘Duarte, I’ve handled this poorly, but you need to understand that I was the child of a wealthy man who believed he knew what was best. My mother almost died trying to protect me from my father’s enemies. Trying to keep him from taking me away once she decided to leave him. I know all too well what it means to be beholden to a man with power.’

  ‘Don’t you dare compare me to him.’ He breathed hard.

  ‘I’m not.’ She shook her head, briefly touching his sleeve. ‘You are nothing like my father, and I know that now. But when you came back...’ She shook her head and walked away a few steps. ‘At the end of our month together, after my father found out about us, and he went to find you. You know he put my safety on the table. Threatened to punish me for defying him with you.’

  ‘He offered you to me like a prize,’ Duarte said, the memory as clear as day.

  ‘And you made it quite clear you didn’t feel anything for me. You said I was nothing to you.’

  Duarte froze, watching her closely. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  She looked away. ‘Not physically. He always preferred emotional torture. I had to watch them take you, Duarte. My father forced me to go to that Avelar Foundation dinner the night of your kidnapping. He made sure I saw them take you. I screamed and I fought, but I was restrained and taken back to my father’s house. He locked me up so I couldn’t get help.’ She wrapped her arms around herself, looking away from him. ‘It was there, during that week, that I felt so sick...so tired and so faint. I calculated my dates and realised that I was carrying your child.’

  ‘Did he know?’

  ‘He called a doctor, who confirmed it. He was furious, but then...’ Nora shivered, her eyes haunted. ‘Then he smiled. He said now he had another thing over you... That night, I knew my father was at an event with his politician friends. I knew my time was limited, so I demanded to
be taken to hospital for fluids, because I couldn’t keep anything down. At the hospital I managed to slip away from my guards, borrowed a phone and found out where they were keeping you and Valerio. I sent a message to Angelus Fiero, praying he would get there in time. But when I got there you had already been shot.’

  ‘You told me...’ Duarte heard himself speak as the dreams he’d had all those months during his recovery finally made sense. ‘You told me to live for you both.’

  She nodded.

  Duarte felt emotion tighten his throat but he pushed it away, turning from her and trying to get a grip on his thoughts, on the memories that swirled around like loose waves, intensifying his aching temples. She sounded as if she was telling the truth, but something within him resisted her words—resisted the belief that she was a victim just like he was.

  How could he believe what she said? She had planned to keep this from him; she had lied.

  He steeled his voice. ‘Does your father know about Liam?’

  ‘When I believed you were dead, I told him I’d lost the baby. I think his guilt over that was the only reason he let me go, let me leave the organisation. I was afraid he would try to use an heir as leverage against your estate, somehow. I kept my pregnancy hidden while I tried my best to finish my final semester, and then I made my plan to leave Rio. You know the rest.’

  ‘I’ll need a paternity test.’

  He heard himself speak and saw her flinch at the words before she nodded silently, but he didn’t care. Not when the memory of how they’d conceived their child was playing in his mind and tying him up in knots.

  She had lied to him. She’d had all these memories that he was only now getting back, and still she had been able to pretend they were strangers.

  She had believed him to be cruel and controlling—perhaps it was time he showed her just how heartless he could be.

  ‘If he’s my son...’ Duarte felt his jaw tighten at the words, at the emotions they evoked within him. ‘I won’t be kept from him, Nora.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Your actions say differently. How do I know this isn’t some kind of new play from Cabo’s organisation? His blood runs in your veins.’