Chapter 2

Camila's POV

After the blood transfusion, I immediately arranged for a DNA paternity test. The 72-hour waiting period plunged our entire family into agony.

I paced back and forth in the hospital corridor. Diego was curled up on a bench, head in his hands. That usually sunny boy looked so fragile now.

I'd never seen him like this.

"Camila..." Diego finally looked up, his voice trembling. "If the results prove I'm not..."

"Stop." I immediately went over and gripped his hands tightly. "Listen, Diego. Whatever that report says, you're my brother. You understand?"

"But sis, if I'm really not Santos blood..." His eyes filled with fear. "Then I'm a fraud, a fake. For eighteen years, I've enjoyed everything that didn't belong to me."

A suffocating pain hit my chest. Damn it, how could I let him think this way?

"Diego Santos." I cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. "You ARE Diego Santos. No matter what's in your blood, you're my beloved brother. That will never change."

But as I said those words, my own heart was trembling violently.

If Lucas really was our biological brother... God, what had he been through all these years?

The next morning, I rushed to the hospital. I'd barely slept, Lucas's deep, melancholic eyes haunting my thoughts.

The VIP room was quiet. I tiptoed to his bedside to adjust his blanket but saw something on his shoulder.

A circular scar.

A cigarette burn mark.

My breath stopped. Trembling, I pulled back more of the blanket and saw more—whip marks on his arms, bruises on his back, and several obviously intentional scars.

"Oh God..." Tears immediately blurred my vision.

Who would do this to a child?

A soft groan came from the bed.

"Mmm..." Lucas slowly opened his eyes, his voice hoarse.

I quickly covered him back up and wiped my tears. "You're awake? How do you feel?"

He blinked several times, and when his vision focused on the luxurious surroundings, shock flashed in his eyes.

"Where... where am I?"

"Miami General's VIP wing. You saved our lives—this is the least we could do."

Lucas slowly sat up, his eyes wandering around the room—from expensive flowers to elegant furniture.

"I don't deserve this," he said quietly.

"What do you mean 'don't deserve'?" I frowned. "Lucas, you almost died saving us."

He lowered his head. "I'm nothing special. Just a lifeguard."

How could he see himself this way?

"What about your family?" I asked carefully. "Anyone we should contact?"

At the mention of family, Lucas's expression instantly darkened. "No. There's no one."

Just then, the door was gently pushed open. Diego walked in carrying sunflowers and chocolate.

"Hey, hero!" Diego flashed his brilliant smile. "Feeling better?"

"Much better, thank you both." A slight smile returned to Lucas's face.

"When you're discharged, I'm definitely teaching you to surf," Diego said excitedly. "I have a feeling we'd make great surf buddies."

Surprise flickered in Lucas's eyes. "You... you'd really do that?"

"Of course! Dude, you saved our lives. Plus, I like you." Diego said sincerely. "There's something about you that feels... familiar."

I quietly observed their interaction, gradually relaxing. Watching the natural closeness between Diego and Lucas stirred mixed emotions in me.

In that warm moment, harsh arguing suddenly erupted from the hallway.

"Where is he? Where's my son? I demand to see Lucas immediately!"

I frowned and walked to the door. A disheveled middle-aged woman was arguing loudly with the nurses. Her hair was greasy and messy, reeking of cigarettes and alcohol.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Rosa Martinez, Lucas's mother." The woman turned to me, her eyes immediately turning greedy. "You must be the Santos heiress, right?"

This was Lucas's mother?

Before I could answer, she pushed past me into the room.

"Lucas! You ungrateful little bastard!" Rosa pointed at Lucas on the bed, cursing viciously. "Look at this fancy room! What gives you the right?"

I watched Lucas instantly curl up, deep pain and shame flashing in his eyes. Diego stood up in shock.

"Ma'am, please watch your language. This is a hospital," I warned coldly.

"Oh, don't misunderstand, honey." Rosa immediately changed her expression, showing a fake smile. "I'm just worried about the expenses. Single motherhood is tough." She rubbed her hands together, eyes greedy. "I heard the Santos family is very generous..."

She wanted money.

"We've already handled the medical bills," I said coldly.

"That's wonderful!" Rosa's eyes lit up. "But as his mother, I'll still need to care for him when he comes home. Maybe you could help a poor widow?"

I saw Lucas clench his fists, his whole body trembling.

"How much do you want?" I asked directly.

Rosa's eyes widened. "Fifty thousand? A hundred thousand? The Santos family doesn't care about pocket change, right?"

I walked to my purse and took out my checkbook. If money could make this woman disappear from Lucas's life forever, it would be the most worthwhile investment.

"I'll give you a hundred thousand," I said while writing. "But I have one condition."

"Any condition! Name it!" Rosa was practically jumping.

I tore off the check and handed it to her. "Take this money and disappear from Lucas's life forever. Never contact him again."

Rosa stared greedily at the check. "A hundred thousand... really?"

"Really. But if I ever see you hurt him again, you'll regret it." My voice was ice-cold.

Rosa hesitated for less than a second. "Deal! That brat's nothing but trouble anyway. With this money, I can finally live the good life in Vegas!"

She grabbed the check and ran out without looking back.

The room fell into dead silence.

I turned around to see Lucas looking at me with shock—gratitude, and something that deeply touched his heart.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said quietly.

"You have nothing to apologize for." I smiled and walked to his side, gently patting his hand. "Lucas, from now on, if you need any help, just tell me."

He nodded silently.

On the third evening, the moment that would change everything finally arrived.

I sat in our family mansion's study, the DNA test report on the desk. The setting sun cast golden light through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the carpet.

My hands were shaking.

Taking a deep breath, I tore open the envelope and unfolded the report:

Lucas Rivera and Eduardo Santos: 99.99% probability of father-son relationship.

Diego Morales and Eduardo Santos: 0% probability of blood relation.

The report slipped from my trembling hands and scattered on the floor.

I collapsed in the chair, feeling the whole world spinning.

My God... Diego really wasn't my biological brother, and Lucas... Lucas was my real brother.