Page 23 of Brazilian Revenge

“Good.”

He made one more turn around the corner and slowed the car before reaching the house number Jacinta’s mother had given them. 251. The little place was in a rather modest part of town, and he wondered if she had already blown all the cash she had received.

“We’re here,” he said, and slid out of the car. Before he could open the passenger door, she had already gotten out of the vehicle.

They walked in tandem to the house, Satyanna keeping up with his long strides. He stole a glance her way. The contours of her face tightened. They’d found one piece of the puzzle. What about the others?

Sighing, he knocked on her door. Once. Twice.

Restless, he flexed and relaxed his fingers. If no one answered, he’d find a way in. Waiting wasn’t an option. The longer time passed, they took the risk of her mother getting in touch with her. If Jacinta were smart she’d realize it was all a hoax. And what if she ran away?

His blood froze. Satyanna inched away, and she was studying the closed wooden window to the side. Her hands hovered over the textured wood, and he wondered if she was searching for a way to break in. Because she’s done this before.

She wouldn’t do it in broad daylight, with children playing soccer at the end of the street, not too far from them, would she?

“Come with me,” he said, and cocked his head in the direction of the side of the house. She nodded, and he dropped his hand to the small of her back to guide her. There was a back door, also locked. He looked at the door handle. It was an old-fashioned metal ball. She put her head against the door, as if wanting to confirm there was no one in the house. A smile formed on his lips before he realized it; a rush of adrenaline shot through him. He, the uber-stickler, was about to break into someone’s house. Not just anyone, but the heartless bitch who helped steal his baby.

Satyanna glanced at both sides then nodded at him. “Go for it. There’s no one watching us right now.”

He slammed the door open, and it offered no resistance. Walking in, he lifted his finger to his mouth, motioning for her to be silent just in case. Stacks of real-estate magazines and home-decor books were piled on the coffee table. A set of gray sofas, along with a floor lamp and an old vitriol occupied the living area. He touched the sofa. It was first-grade leather. Somehow the sophistication from the inside didn’t match the modest surroundings.

Within minutes, they raided the place. There was not a single soul in the two-bedroom house. He checked the kitchen. Clean, with stainless-steel appliances.

“There’s hardly any food in here,” she said, studying the fridge.

“You think maybe she went out of town?”

She grabbed a rubber band from her pocket, and put her hair up in a ponytail. Several rebellious curls strayed. There was something sexy about her lack of makeup. Besides the freckles that scattered on her nose and cheeks, she was fresh faced. “Maybe she’s been working odd hours. She’s a nurse, right?”

He blinked. Focus, man. The previous night he’d used his attraction for her to channel his energy. What was his excuse now? “Just because that’s what she told her estranged mother doesn’t mean it’s the truth. If Clemonte paid for her silence, maybe she doesn’t need to work right away.”

…

Satyanna twisted her hands together, her fingers fidgety. Refusing to let the circumstances alter her resolve, she shook her head and walked to the bedroom.

The queen-size bed, adorned with a thick bedspread and golden pillows, didn’t hint at someone who experienced financial difficulty. She sat on the bed and heard footfalls her way. Leonardo strode into the room. His gorgeous, enigmatic eyes trailed over her.

“No one makes a bed like this if they don’t intend on coming back to sleep.”

She stared at the vanity chest in front of her, and something snapped inside her mind. Of course. Drawers. Standing up, she scanned the room and found two nightstands on each side of the bed. She yanked the drawers open, her hands faster than her brains. Bills. More home-decor magazines. And…a passport. She recognized the nurse from the hospital. Jacinta had been the one who greeted her and checked on her before they gave her medications. With kind eyes and curly, short brown hair, the nurse looked back at her in the picture with a half smile. Except…the name on the passport read Claudia Soares.

“It’s a fake,” he said.

“So she’s not leaving the country, but considering it?” she said, and flipped through the pages. A folded piece of paper fell, and she recognized the receipt of a furniture store. What, was the woman so gung-ho on decoration?

Leonardo went to search the other nightstand. She peered at him when he wasn’t paying attention. Ever since he’d told her he’d treat her as an equal that’s what he’d been doing. It was too soon to know for sure, but a warm sensation wrapped her heart. Different than the mad heart beating when he’d told her not to get a tattoo with his name on it.

She had pretended she was okay with that but truth was, it hurt. Was sex all she was good for? When he’d held her late into the night, this crazy thought hit her. What if he, too, needed some comfort, but just had a hard time admitting to it? He’d embraced her with so much determination. Was it really only an attraction between them? Because, deep down, even with all that baggage, she—

“I found it!” Leonardo shouted, and waved a piece of paper up in the air.

“What? What is it?” she asked, and dashed to his side.

“When she moved here, she needed an address to get her bills transferred to. I’m assuming she didn’t find this place right away. This is it. Her old address on a piece of paper from the carbon-copy protocol of the electricity company.”

“Let me see it.” She pulled it from him and narrowed her eyes. Speaking Portuguese was a challenge she’d faced and mostly overcome. Reading it was a different story. Yet, something got her attention at the bottom of the document. The extravagantly cursive handwriting of… “Harry,” she said, even though it read Carlton Stephen.

“She’s with him,” he said.

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