Billionaire Heiress: I Raised the Wrong Brother

Camila's POV

"Camila! Come on! Today's waves are absolutely PERFECT!"

My younger brother Diego stood by the ocean, the sea breeze tousling his hair as he waved at me with that brilliant smile of his.

I put down my tablet and shook my head helplessly. "Diego, you know I don't surf!"

"Just give it a try!" He jogged over and grabbed my hand without giving me a choice. "Besides, when was the last time you actually relaxed?"

"I'm relaxing right now!" I protested, but he was already pulling me to my feet.

"Sitting under an umbrella with your tablet isn't relaxing—that's beachside work!" Diego grinned. "Come on, just this once. I promise I'll protect you from any big waves."

"Big waves? Seriously?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Diego, you're only eighteen. I should be protecting YOU."

"Hey! I'm not a little kid anymore!" he protested with mock indignation. "And I'm winning the Florida Surf Championship next month, so technically, I'm a professional athlete now."

"Technically, you're still my baby brother." I ruffled his hair.

"Camila!" He dodged my hand. "Don't mess up my hair! What if there are girls watching?"

"Oh, so THAT'S what this is about?" I raised an eyebrow. "You want to show off for the girls?"

"Maybe..." Diego's face reddened slightly. "But mostly I want my sister to be happy. You've been working too hard since Dad died."

The mention of our father instantly dampened my mood. Diego noticed my change and immediately took my hand.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay." I forced a smile. "You're right. Maybe I do need to relax. But I'm warning you—if I drown, I'm totally haunting you."

"Deal! But you won't drown because I'll be right there with you." Diego jumped excitedly. "This is going to be AMAZING!"

He pulled me toward the water, chattering nonstop about surf techniques and today's wave conditions. Watching his excitement gradually lifted my spirits. Maybe he was right—I did need to unwind occasionally.

"Wait, wait!" I suddenly stopped. "I need to reapply sunscreen first."

"Seriously? Camila, you've got enough sunscreen on to protect a small army." Diego said dramatically.

"UV rays are no joke, Diego. Skin cancer is—"

"Okay, okay, Dr. Camila!" He threw up his hands in surrender. "But can you hurry? The tide is perfect right now."

As we were playfully arguing, Diego suddenly stepped backward, causing me to lose my balance and crash straight into someone behind me.

"Oh my God! I'm SO sorry!" I quickly apologized, turning to face the person I'd bumped into.

In that instant, my breath caught.

A pair of deep brown eyes gazed back at me, with that melancholic yet wise expression that instantly reminded me of my father Eduardo. This young lifeguard had refined features and bronze skin, but those eyes were the most striking feature...

Those eyes... how could they look so much like Dad's?

"No worries at all, don't stress about it." the young man said gently.

"See! No big deal!" Diego grinned beside us. "Sorry about that, dude. My sister can be a little clumsy sometimes."

"I am NOT clumsy!" I glared at Diego, my cheeks flushing.

The young lifeguard smiled softly. "It was just an accident. These things happen on the beach all the time."

"Thank you for being so understanding." I tried to compose myself.

Just then, someone called out to him from the distance, "Lucas! Come on!"

"Have fun and stay safe." He nodded, then turned and walked away.

We continued toward the water, but I couldn't help glancing back. The boy named Lucas had already walked away with his companion.

"Camila, you okay?" Diego noticed my distraction. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine." I shook my head. "Let's go surf."

We swam out to the deeper water about 200 meters from shore. Diego excitedly pointed at the distant waves.

"Look at those waves! Absolutely perfect!"

But then I saw a black triangular fin cutting through the water not far away.

"Diego..." My voice trembled. "Diego, look behind you."

He turned around, his face instantly pale. "SHIT! Shark!"

The massive shark was swimming toward us at alarming speed. We frantically swam toward shore but quickly realized we couldn't escape.

"HELP! Shark attack!" Diego screamed.

At that critical moment, I heard an engine. A small rescue boat was speeding toward us at full throttle.

It was Lucas!

He expertly maneuvered the boat near us. "Get on! NOW!"

Diego climbed aboard first, then reached down to pull me up. But just as I was about to board, the shark violently rammed the boat, causing it to rock violently.

"The boat's going to flip!" Lucas shouted.

To stabilize the vessel, Lucas pulled a diving knife from his belt and jumped into the water without hesitation.

"What are you DOING?!" I screamed.

"Protecting you!" he replied, swimming directly toward the shark.

I watched this brave young man battle the shark in the water. His movements were swift and powerful, each strike precise and deadly. But the shark was too large—it suddenly opened its massive jaws and bit down on Lucas's right arm.

"NO!" I watched as blood instantly stained the seawater.

Lucas groaned in pain but continued gripping the knife with his left hand, desperately stabbing at the shark's eye. The shark finally released its grip and swam away in pain.

"Lucas!" Diego and I pulled him onto the boat together. His right arm was mangled and bloody, and he was losing consciousness.

"Protect... her..." he said weakly, looking at me before completely passing out.

"Hang on, we're getting you to the hospital!" I gripped his hand tightly, trying to stop the bleeding.

In the ambulance, I looked at the unconscious Lucas, feeling an indescribable emotion welling up inside me. Those eyes... that courage to risk everything to protect us...

At Miami General Hospital's emergency room, the harsh white lights were blinding. A doctor emerged, looking grave.

"The patient has severe blood loss and needs an immediate transfusion. But we're currently short on Type O blood..."

"Use ours!" I immediately said. "My brother and I can both donate!"

"Yes, absolutely," Diego nodded. "He saved our lives. It's the least we can do."

The nurse took us for blood typing, and I felt unusually anxious.

Ten minutes later, the test results came back.

The nurse held the report with a strange expression. "Ms. Santos, your blood type is O, so you can donate to the patient. But..."

"But what?" I asked urgently.

"Your brother's blood type is AB."

Time seemed to freeze. My mind went completely blank.

"Are you sure there's no mistake? How could my brother be Type AB?"

The nurse double-checked the report. "We tested twice. It's definitely AB."

Diego looked at me in confusion. "Camila, what does this mean?"

My hands began to shake. I clearly remembered that both our parents were Type O. And in blood type genetics, two Type O parents could NEVER have an AB child.

This meant—Diego wasn't a biological child of the Santos family.

I looked up dazedly at the flashing red light outside the emergency room, and suddenly that young face flashed through my mind...

Those deep brown eyes, identical to my father Eduardo's eyes.

If Diego isn't our real brother... then who is?