HIS HEIR, HER SECRET

The Other Heartbeat

Damien stared at the DNA test envelope like it was a live grenade. His fingers tightened around it, the tension in his jaw undeniable. Elira sat across from him in the private lounge of his office, her eyes glued to the floor, clutching her purse like it could shield her from what was coming.

Silence swelled between them, thick and electric.

He finally tore it open. The sound of paper ripping made her flinch.

Damien skimmed the results once. Then twice.

His throat worked hard as he whispered, “Fraternal twins?”

Elira’s heart thudded so loudly it hurt. “What—what did you say?”

He raised his eyes slowly to meet hers. “The test confirmed I was the biological father. But not just to Liam… there’s a note. ‘Sample match suggests the subject is one of a pair — fraternal twins.’”

Time stopped.

Elira’s breath caught. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The room spun just slightly, and she had to grip the arm of the chair to ground herself.

“You lied to me,” Damien said, his voice low and controlled. Dangerous. “There wasn’t just one child. There were two.”

Tears pricked her eyes instantly, but she blinked them back. “I didn’t lie. I never told you there was only one. I just... I didn’t tell you everything.”

“That’s the same thing, Elira!” he thundered, slamming the papers on the table. She flinched again, but still didn’t look away. “You kept my child from me for five years, and now you’re telling me there’s another one—somewhere out there? Where is the other child?”

The words she had been dreading finally came.

And now, she has no more time. No more space to delay.

Five Years Ago.

She remembered the sterile smell of the hospital, the cold metal stirrups, the nurse’s kind but pitiful eyes. She remembered the doctor’s voice: “Fraternal twins. Both premature but stable.”

Her mother had been livid. This is a scandal waiting to happen. Damien’s family will crush you. You have to choose. We don’t have the money to raise two.”

Elira had sobbed, holding both infants in her arms, unable to decide. But her father — quiet, pained — had already signed one child up for anonymous adoption, behind her back.

By the time she recovered from the emergency C-section, the papers were signed. The twin boy — Liam’s brother — was gone.

She’d never even held him again.

Now.

“I didn’t choose this,” she whispered, her voice cracking. I didn’t give him away out of selfishness. My parents forced my hand. My father signed the papers when I was too weak to even walk.”

Damien looked stunned. “He’s been adopted?”

She nodded, finally letting the tears fall. “I wanted to find him so many times. But the adoption was sealed. Private. I didn’t even know where to start.”

Damien stood and turned away from her, his hands on his hips. Rage warred with heartbreak in his eyes.

“You had five years. You didn’t even try?”

“I did!” she shouted, standing too. I tried contacting the agency. I hired someone once. But it led nowhere, Damien. And I couldn’t risk losing Liam either. If they found out I broke confidentiality…”

He turned, eyes blazing. “You let my son grow up with strangers while I was alive and ready to be a father?”

“You weren't ready,” she shot back. You were busy climbing the corporate ladder, traveling the world, engaged to some heiress you didn’t even love. You left me, Damien. You disappeared.”

Damien’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “You think this is about me? This is about them! My sons. I have two sons.”

Elira wrapped her arms around herself. “Liam didn’t know. Please… don’t tell him yet. He’s too young. Too fragile.”

Damien shook his head, stunned. “You think he doesn’t deserve to know he has a brother? That I don’t deserve to know where he is?”

Her knees gave out, and she sank to the chair, trembling. “I’m sorry.”

Silence again.

Except this time, it was heavier. Colder.

Damien took a deep breath, picked up his phone, and dialed.

“Jackson,” he said to his assistant. I want a full report on every private adoption filed in the metro area five years ago. Look for fraternal twins. Male. Born to Elira Ramos.”

Elira’s eyes widened. “Damien, no—”

“I’m going to find him,” Damien said. “Even if you won’t help me.”

Two Days Later.

Elira hadn’t slept. Liam had a fever, probably from all the tension he felt, and clung to her like a shadow.

Damien hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. She was drowning in guilt, regret, fear. What if the adoptive parents refused to give the child up? What if they hated her for coming back into the picture?

What if her second son hated her for leaving him?

She was staring blankly at her cold coffee when her phone rang. Damien.

Her heart leapt and twisted all at once.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice hoarse.

“I found him,” he said flatly.

Elira stopped breathing.

“His name is Caleb. His adoptive parents live in Tagaytay. They renamed him. But I saw a photo, Elira. He looks just like Liam.”

Her knees buckled. She gripped the counter.

“Damien…”

“They’re good people. But I’m filing a petition. I want shared custody. At the very least, I want him to know who I am.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered.

Damien’s voice softened just barely. “You don’t have a choice anymore. We brought two lives into this world. And now we owe them both the truth.”

Later that Week.

Elira stood outside a modest house in Tagaytay, holding Liam’s hand. Damien stood beside her, his presence firm, unwavering.

The door opened.

A woman in her late thirties smiled kindly. “You must be Mr. Alaric. Ms. Ramos. I’m Sofia. Please, come in.”

Elira stepped inside and saw a photo on the mantel — a boy with the same dark eyes as Liam, the same dimpled smile.

She nearly collapsed.

“Where is he?” Damien asked gently.

Sofia called into the hallway, “Caleb! Come meet some visitors!”

A moment later, a little boy came running in. Elira gasped.

He was identical to Liam in frame and eyes but had darker skin and curlier hair. His gaze was curious, cautious.

Damien dropped to one knee. “Hey there, buddy. I’m Damien.”

The boy tilted his head. “Are you my new teacher?”

Damien laughed softly. “Something like that.”

Elira knelt beside him. “Hi… I’m Elira. Can I hug you?”

Caleb looked up at his mom for reassurance. Sofia nodded gently.

He stepped forward and hugged Elira. She buried her face in his hair and cried silently.

“Why are you crying?” Caleb asked innocently.

“Because I’m happy to see you,” she whispered.

Liam peeked out from behind Damien, eyes wide. He stared at the other boy, then blinked.

“You look like me,” he said.

“You look like me,” Caleb echoed.

Then both laughed.

And at that moment, despite the guilt, the pain, the years lost — Elira felt hope.

Hope that maybe — just maybe — they could be a family again.