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CHAPTER ONE

IT WASN’T OFTEN that a rave Duarte Avelar stood frozen in the sleepy English village graveyard, staring at the elegant family crypt where he and his twin sister had laid their beloved parents to rest seven years before

But now a third name had been added to the marble plaque

His own

Dried wreaths and bouquets lined the resting place, with ss of condolences froues alike He’d been told his rand affair, filled with Europe’s wealthy elite, come to pay their respects to one of their favourite billionaire playboys

Histheir sy in this very spot to watch as they lowered an eround

His sto as he turned away and rounds A sleek black car awaited hi round as he held the door open A pair of hulking bodyguards in plain clothes stood nearby, quietly focused oncountryside

He had once enjoyed a certain level of fa considered a likeable e and approachable And yet for the past teeks, since his shock return, he had been a pariah It seemed everyone had been forewarned of his unpredictable te him was the safest option

Still, he caught the that spanned his face from the centre of his left eyebrow to the tip of his ear He saw their stricken gazes upon seeing the scars along the rest of his torso when he went for his twice-daily swim

He had gone fro the kind of man who could co one who avoided his own staff so as not to make them nervous

His sister had o for a couple of weeks until Duarte was ready for the attention He had walked out of their first press conference less than an hour ago, knowing he hadn’t been ready, but there was nothing to be done now

The press had called hihost, a man returned from the dead They had jumped at the chance to paint him as some kind of hero to fit their own sensational narratives

No one see he wished to be celebrated for Not when he was sure that his disappearance and the suffering he had endured had been entirely his own fault

By rights, he should be dead

He sat heavily against the back seat of the car, running his hand along the length of the long scar that traced the side of his head above his ear It turned out that the nightunshot wound to the head had been child’s play co to fit back into a world where Duarte Avelar had ceased to exist

As they drove away he watched the sun shine over the picturesque countryside ha frory and homesick, barely even ten years old, but this quiet place had soon beco ho had co of this small slice of peace and paradise

Nownowhere felt like home

Everything rong He rong