My Son Mistook The Heir For His Dad

"Cecilia! It's not what you think!" Cecilia Dunn rushed to explain, wincing as she scrambled out of bed to catch up with her neighbor.

"Hold on!" Bruno Ryan called after her. "Remember, keep my identity under wraps—don't blow it!"

Cecilia nodded quickly, one hand bracing her lower back as she hobbled toward the next-door apartment. "I'll just tell her you're my cousin visiting from out of town."

"Kahlani, he's just—" Cecilia started, but Kahlani cut her off with a knowing smile. "Santos already told me—that's his dad!"

Cecilia's eyes went wide. She spun toward Santos. "You little rascal—"

Kahlani's gaze flicked to Cecilia's hand on her back, and she gave a kind laugh. "It's normal for couples to fight and separate for a while. But with a kid this young, you two should really try to work it out."

Cecilia realized she had to roll with it. "Oh, we didn't fight. He just works out of town and doesn't get home much."

Thinking on her feet, she spun a few more tales about Santos's dad, painting the perfect picture of Bruno's made-up backstory until Kahlani was completely sold.

Back home, Bruno asked, "She buy it?"

Cecilia shook her head, a little apologetic. "Looks like you're gonna have to play Santos's dad for a few days."

Bruno frowned. "Weren't we going with the cousin story?"

Cecilia hadn't expected things to snowball like this. "Santos was running his mouth, and Kahlani jumped to conclusions. There was no way I could set it straight!"

Bruno's brow furrowed. Trying to explain now would only raise more questions about his real identity. For now, playing the stand-in husband to a widow seemed like the safest cover.

But the kid already seemed way too attached.

"I'm not a kid person. Keep your son out of my hair!" he insisted.

Cecilia had originally planned to hire someone to act as Santos's dad for his birthday. But with Bruno conveniently here, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"No way! If Santos likes you, you be nice to him! You make him cry, I swear I'll throw you out and let those guys chasing you do whatever they want!"

For the first time, someone dared threaten Bruno like that. Even with amnesia, his natural pride flared, the urge to snap back almost overwhelming. But with his injuries, just standing was a struggle.

Helpless, he grudgingly agreed. "Fine. Let me recover here, and I'll play dad."

The two became unlikely allies.

Keeping her word, Cecilia made a hearty bowl of ravioli and set it beside Bruno's bed. He stared at it, brow furrowing.

"What, not your style?" she teased. "This is as good as it gets around here. You want something better? Then maybe remember your bank password and pay me back that five hundred grand!"

Bruno's face twisted with a mix of unease and embarrassment. "It's not that. I just... I need to use the bathroom..."

She pointed. "Over there."

His face flushed. "Can't move. I need a hand."

Understanding his condition, Cecilia resigned herself to helping. She discreetly supported his arm as he shuffled toward the bathroom.

He managed to grip the wall for balance while Cecilia waited outside, exhausted.

"I'll get you a bedpan later," she joked.

"No way!" Bruno shot back, indignant. Raised in luxury, dignity was ingrained. Already having to rely on her just to take a piss was humiliating enough.

But Cecilia, practical as ever, wasn't moved. "If you even think about messing up that bed, you'll regret it."

Stripped of power and pride, Bruno was completely at her mercy. The once-mighty Mr. Ryan had no choice but to suffer in silence.

Afterward, they sat down to eat. Cecilia couldn't help asking, "You seriously don't remember anything?"

Bruno shook his head.

Cecilia clung to a shred of hope. "Maybe it's the head injury. You might get your memory back soon."

Bruno nodded, though his tone was indifferent. "Here's hoping."

Curious, he asked, "Tell me about yourself."

Cecilia gave a quick rundown. "I'm Cecilia Dunn, from some small town. I drive a delivery truck, barely scraping by. My son Santos—his dad died before he was born."

"Do you have to work today?" Bruno asked.

Cecilia replied dryly, "Thanks to you, my back's shot. No driving for me today."

Bruno looked a little surprised. "You actually hurt yourself?" He'd half-suspected she was playing it up to guilt-trip him.

Cecilia waved off his doubt. "I don't have time for games, not with a kid to raise and now you to look after. Just focus on getting better, remembering your life, and having your family come get you—along with my five hundred grand."

Bruno nodded in agreement but remained silent.

After breakfast, Cecilia called Santos over. "Your dad's not feeling well. Stay out of his way."

Santos contented himself with peeking through the door at Bruno.

Bruno, noticing the curious eyes, frowned deeply in disapproval.

Meanwhile, Cecilia was tidying up when she spotted the pearl earring from the night before, her frown deepening.

"Santos, come here," she called.

The little boy toddled over. Cecilia held up the earring. "How many times have I told you not to mess with my jewelry? Especially this one!"

Santos looked genuinely puzzled, eyes wide and innocent. "Mom, I didn't touch it."

Cecilia wasn't convinced. "It's just you and me in this house. Fess up, and I won't yell at you. Just don't do it again. Put it back where it belongs."

Santos took the earring with a solemn nod, scampered to the bedroom, and opened the dresser drawer—only to find an identical earring already there. He muttered to himself, confused, "Wasn't there only one before? What's going on?"

"Mom, now there are two!" he called out, puzzled by the unexpected discovery.