Page 12 of The Billionaire's Lost Family

“Oh my gosh,” Hazel said with a breath. Her knees bowed. Wesley gripped her by the elbows, keeping her upright. He could hardly believe it either.

“Then he saw the hat.” Franco pointed to the article in Hazel’s grasp. “And he said he has been searching for the purse’s owner ever since this morning.”

Tears now streamed down Ivan’s cheeks. He beamed a radiant smile, keeping his gaze plastered to Hazel. With a tremulous hand, he reached for her. “Minha filha,” he said with gentility.

“What does that mean?” she demanded, rounding enough to grip Franco’s shirt. “Please, what does that mean?”

“Minha filha,” Franco repeated, bending low so he could speak directly to her. “Means ‘my daughter,’ in Portuguese.”

Wesley wondered how much Franco knew of their purpose in coming to Calma. Had Hazel confided in him about their search? She may have, considering how he would have to tag along and interpret for them.

“Daughter,” Hazel repeated. Bewildered, she retreated so fast she stepped on Wesley’s foot.

“Sim, yes.” Ivan grinned, showcasing the wrinkles on his cheeks and at his temples. Light gleamed in his dark eyes—eyes he couldn’t seem to take from Hazel.

Wesley zoned in on the two of them, with their bronze skin and dark hair, with their high cheekbones and narrow faces. Sweat collected in his palms. His glance darted back and forth between them, his heart picking up speed the entire time.

“Daisy Jane,” Wesley whispered, wrapping his hand more firmly around her stomach. Hazel leaned against him as if needing his reassurance. “I think…is this man your dad?”

7

Hazel pressed her back against Wesley’s chest, grateful he was there to keep her from toppling to the ground. She expected the search to take days, even weeks. She’d expected to find perhaps a clue here and there, to continue the search across southeastern Brazil if they had to. She’d expected to find the Silvas had died of the same yellow fever she’d been diagnosed with thirty years before.

Never in a thousand lifetimes did she ever think she’d find her father on their first day.

Wherever her bag had fallen, Ivan must have been the first to come across it.

Ivan began speaking again. Franco started not long after. “He says,” the translator began, bending low before speaking, “he never would have noticed the bag if it didn’t have such a bold pattern.”

“That was why he caught me outside of the pawn shop,” Wesley said, his voice filled with realization.

Hazel couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She jabbed an elbow in Wesley’s stomach. “See? It’s a good thing I brought that obnoxious luggage.”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” Wesley said against her ear, pressing a kiss there and making butterflies cascade in her stomach.

Communication among the four of them came to a halt. Hazel took in every detail of Ivan’s face, from his wide, wrinkled eyes to his graying hair, from his brief height to his short-sleeved shirt and pants. His shoes were name-brand that appeared to be a few decades old but were well-taken-care-of.

“Please,” she said. “What is your name?” She needed to hear him say it. To have him verify.

Franco repeated the question and Ivan smiled. “Ivan Silva.”

The sound ricocheted through her like an explosion of fireworks. They pinged and banged against the underside of her skin, jettisoning her pulse and making all rational thought impossible.

“And you?” Franco asked.

“Alegria?” Ivan wondered aloud, brows raised, expression brimming with hope.

Alegria. The name she was born with. Hazel had always been told it wasAllegra,but that may have been a miscommunication. The name the Stricklands had changed when they’d taken her to the United States. Sandy and Martin Strickland had left Allegra as Hazel’s middle name instead.

“That’s—that’s me.” She couldn’t believe it.

Ivan’s grin widened. “You come. You come?” He nodded first to her and then to Wesley.

“I can drive you,” Franco said, saying as much to Ivan in his native language.

“No,” Ivan said. “Come.” He grasped Hazel’s hand, startling her. She didn’t pull away, though. She savored the feel of his callused skin and the overwhelming, unbelievable reality.

Ivan released her hand and led the way. They meandered through a part of town Hazel and Wesley hadn’t yet explored. Hazel quickly discovered why a car couldn’t take them where Ivan was headed. The plant growth around them thickened. Large leaves provided shade overhead from the sun’s wicked heat. Uneven stone stairs parted the growth. A large spider scurried across the stone as Ivan began climbing the narrow steps beneath an umbrella of foliage.

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