Contract of Two Hearts E-Book

Danniel Paraiso Da Silva

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 199

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

There are times when life challenges us in ways we never imagined. When our routine is interrupted by something so unexpected and overwhelming, we are forced to confront the fragility of our existence and the complexity of our emotions. Contract of Two Hearts is a story about these moments — about the encounter between two seemingly separate lives, but which, by a mystery of fate, intertwine in a way that no one could have foreseen. Han Seo-jin, a woman with a fragile heart and a life full of dreams and plans, sees her world turned upside down when she is diagnosed with a rare heart condition. The only solution: a heart transplant, something that could save her life, but at the same time, throws her into a sea of uncertainty. On the other side, Han Ji-hoon, a closed man, immersed in his own world of responsibility and distrust, finds himself confronted with the mysterious death of his twin brother, Jae-ho. The pain of loss is compounded by secrets he is not ready to face, but which somehow connect him to the woman who received his brother's heart. A chance encounter filled with lies turns into something deeper and more complex, leading both to question their own truths. In this book, we explore the power of forgiveness, the weight of guilt, and rebirth through pain. It is a story of transformation, of difficult choices, of lives intertwined by fate, and above all, of the search for true love—the one that, even in the face of the greatest challenges, has the power to heal us. Prepare to embark on this emotional journey, where each heartbeat brings a new mystery, and each choice defines the path to redemption.

Leseprobe

Copyright

© 2025 by Danniel Paraiso

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical reviews or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is entirely coincidental.

Introduction

There are times when life challenges us in ways we never imagined. When our routine is interrupted by something so unexpected and overwhelming, we are forced to confront the fragility of our existence and the complexity of our emotions. A Contract of Two Hearts is a story about these moments — about the encounter between two seemingly separate lives that, through a mystery of fate, intertwine in a way that no one could have foreseen.

Han Seo-jin, a woman with a fragile heart and a life full of dreams and plans, sees her world turned upside down when she is diagnosed with a rare heart condition. The only solution: a heart transplant, something that could save her life, but at the same time, throws her into a sea of uncertainty.

On the other side, Han Ji-hoon, a closed man, immersed in his own world of responsibility and distrust, finds himself confronted with the mysterious death of his twin brother, Jae-ho. The pain of loss is exacerbated by secrets that he is not ready to face, but that, somehow, connect him to the woman who received his brother’s heart. A chance encounter filled with lies turns into something deeper and more complex, leading both of them to question their own truths.

In this book, we explore the power of forgiveness, the weight of guilt, and rebirth through pain. It is a story of transformation, of difficult choices, of lives intertwined by fate, and, above all, about the search for true love—the kind that, even in the face of the greatest challenges, has the power to heal us.

Prepare to embark on an emotional journey, where every heartbeat brings a new mystery, and every choice defines the path to redemption.

Dedication

To everyone who, in some way, has felt lost, but found the strength to start over.

For those who carry invisible scars, but who, with courage, allow the light to enter again.

To those who believe in the power of forgiveness — both for others and for themselves.

This book is for all the broken hearts who will one day learn to heal.

With love and gratitude.

Daniel Paradise

Contract of Two Hearts

Daniel Paradise

INDEX

• Han Seo-jin’s Diagnosis

• The Mysterious Donor: Han Jae-ho

• Jae-ho’s Tragic Death

• Transplant Surgery

• Ji-hoon Discovers Donation

• A Meeting Under False Intentions

• Post-Transplant Changes

• First Emotional Approach

• The Shared Past

• The Secret Kept

• Jae-ho’s Double Life

• Unexplained Connection

• Ji-hoon’s Guided Rehabilitation

• Yoon Da-eun Enters the Scene

• Clashes Between Da-eun and Ji-hoon

• The Heart Begins to Love

• Attempt to Remove

• The Hiring of Kang Min-jun

• Confrontation with the Past

• A Kiss of Guilt and Desire

• Suspicions in the Air

• Silent Guilt

• Da-eun Investiga

• Secrets in Jae-ho’s Past

• Anonymous Letters

• The First Serious Fight

• The Interrupted Confession

• The Truth About Death

• The Return of Han Ji-won

• Threat of Disclosure

• Family Truths

• The Discovery of the Lie

• The Painful Departure

• Attempt at Reconciliation

• Da-eun’s approach

• Parallel Research

• Confrontation with Min-jun

• Threats from the Past

• The Mysterious Woman

• The Return of Oh Soo-hyeon

• Dark Secrets

• The Case Against Ji-hoon

• Public Exposure

• Impacts on Seo-jin’s Heart

• The Final Revelation

• Ji-hoon Takes the Blame

• The Fall and Loneliness

• Letters from Inside Prison

• Separate Paths

• Jae-ho’s Last Words

• Forgiveness in Silence

• Freedom and Uncertainty

• Painful Reunion

• The Hesitant Restart

• Reconstructing Emotions

• The Hope Project

• Homage to the Heart

• A New Request

• Second Chance

• Epilogue

Chapter 1 – A Heart in Silence

The sound of the wall clock was barely audible, but to Han Seo-jin, each tick was a cruel reminder of the countdown that was beginning. The white, silent room, smelling of antiseptic, seemed to squeeze her lungs more than any anxiety attack. The doctor hadn’t returned yet. She could already tell something was wrong—the nurse’s gaze, the tightness in her chest, the lingering fatigue. But nothing could prepare her for what was to come.

Seo-jin was a twenty-eight-year-old investigative journalist known for her boldness and stubbornness. She had faced corrupt politicians, violent businessmen, and even anonymous threats, but at that moment, she was shaking like never before. Her fingers gripped the arms of her chair as if they were her only anchor in the real world.

The door opened.

“Miss Han,” Dr. Choi said, an unexpected gravity in his voice. He walked slowly to the chair in front of her, sitting down as if carrying an invisible weight. “We’ve received the test results, and… we need to talk urgently.”

She tried to smile. She had a habit of hiding her fear behind sarcasm.

— This never starts with “good news”, does it, Doctor?

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile.

— You have a rare heart condition called idiopathic restrictive cardiomyopathy. It is a serious and progressive form. The muscle in your heart is stiffening. It doesn’t pump as well as it should.

The words echoed like thunder in his mind. Heart. Rare. Serious. Progressive.

— And… what does that mean? Treatment? Surgery? — Her voice cracked, as if her vocal cords were trying to resist the truth.

— It means you need a transplant. And you need it soon.

The world stopped. It didn’t turn, it didn’t breathe, it didn’t pulse.

Seo-jin stared at the doctor as if she expected him to correct himself. To say “just kidding” or “false positive.” But his eyes were too full of compassion for a lie.

- What?

— We are putting you on the national transplant waiting list immediately. There are protocols, criteria, but your case is a priority. Your heart has, at most, a few months. Maybe less, if there is stress or physical effort.

She was silent for a few seconds. Then she laughed. A nervous, pained, almost hysterical laugh.

— This can’t be real. I… I run, I ride my bike, I… — tears welled up without her realizing it. — I don’t feel like I’m dying.

— I know. That’s the problem with this condition. It works silently. By the time symptoms appear, it’s already advanced.

Seo-jin tried to stand up, but the ground felt unstable. The doctor held her gently, guiding her back to the chair.

— You will need support. Family, friends…

“I don’t,” he interrupted, his voice colder now. “My parents died in an accident. My brother… disappeared off the map. And my friends are more busy than they are available.”

The doctor hesitated for a second.

— Then you’ll have to be strong on your own. We’ll take care of everything. But the wait for a compatible heart could be long.

Seo-jin looked down at the ground, her breathing uneven. For the first time in a long time, she felt fragile. As if her own body had declared war.

When I left the office, the hallways seemed colder. People were walking in a hurry, laughing on their cell phones or complaining about life. Everything seemed distant, irrelevant.

Outside the hospital, the city was bustling with activity. Cars honking, vendors shouting, students running with backpacks. And there, in the midst of the chaos, Han Seo-jin stood.

The cold wind ruffled her hair, and she put her hand over her chest, trying to feel her heart. It was still beating. But now, each beat felt marked. Temporary.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Because in that moment, she understood: her life had just changed. And a new chapter—uncertain, frightening, painfully real—was just beginning.

Chapter 2 – The Heart That Stopped Beating

It was night. One of those nights when the city seemed to breathe more slowly, as if even the buildings were tired. The light rain fell on the rooftops of Seoul, painting sad reflections on the windows of the apartments. In one of them, on the 18th floor of a luxury condominium, Han Jae-ho was watching the city lights for the last time — although he didn’t know it yet.

Jae-ho was the kind of man who went unnoticed by the world, but who carried storms within him. He was 32 years old, a brilliant lawyer, reserved, and gifted with a gaze that always seemed distant—as if he lived between the present and a past that refused to let him go.

Living alone since he had been separated from his twin brother, Han Ji-hoon, Jae-ho had maintained a quiet life. Too discreet. There were no photos on the wall, no laughter echoing through the house. Only books neatly arranged, minimalist furniture and a dense loneliness that filled every corner.

That night, he received a black envelope under his door. No sender. No name. Just three handwritten words:

“You already know.”

He read the sentence three times before taking it to the fire. But something in his eyes said that he had received other messages like this before. And that this… was the last.

Hours later, Han Jae-ho’s body was found slumped in the building’s emergency stairwell. No sign of a struggle. No visible injuries. The cause of death? Sudden cardiac arrest. A silent condition, doctors said. An anomaly, reports said. But something was wrong.

In the following days, no relatives came forward to claim the body. The police filed the case as a natural death, but in the background, a newly assigned detective named Kang Min-jun wrote down a simple word in his notebook:

Suspect.

In the morgue, Jae-ho looked peaceful. As if he knew it was inevitable. As if he had prepared himself to die.

What no one knew, however, was that Jae-ho had anonymously signed up to be an organ donor a few months earlier. And that his heart—strong, healthy, intact—was destined for a young woman named Han Seo-jin, whose life was hanging by a thread.

The process was quick, mysteriously quick. Within a few hours, the match was confirmed. The urgency of Seo-jin’s case sped up all the procedures. It was as if fate, cruel and precise, had timed everything.

Jae-ho’s heart was successfully removed.

In the hospital records, he was just a number, a combination of clinical data. No one mentioned that he had a twin brother. No one investigated why a young, healthy man would die suddenly, for no apparent reason.

On the other side of the city, as Han Seo-jin was wheeled into the operating room, a new heart beat for the last time in one body, only to be reborn in another.

But Han Jae-ho’s death wasn’t just a tragic coincidence. It was a mystery. And that heart, now beating in Seo-jin’s chest, held so much more than life. It held secrets. Guilt. And maybe… love.

Chapter 3 – Beats of a New Beginning

The operating room was cold. Surgical lights glinted off the metal of the instruments as the medical team moved with calculated precision. At the center of it all, Han Seo-jin lay unconscious, wrapped in sterile sheets, her skin pale and her chest marked for the cut that would change her life.

From the other side of the glass partition, Dr. Choi watched silently. He knew that transplants were never simple—even successful ones. They involved more than technique. It was like swapping your soul, sewing together the invisible, begging your body to accept something that wasn’t naturally its own.

“Starting the procedure,” the lead surgeon announced. “The new heart is ready.”

The organ lay on a metal tray, alive, pulsating, protected by an icy fluid. It was amazing how something so small could mean so much. Han Jae-ho’s heart, now without identity, without past, was about to begin again.

The surgery lasted almost six hours. Each vein was reconnected, each suture was done with the delicacy of someone touching a piece of glass about to shatter. There were moments of tension—a slight arrhythmia, a delay in stabilization. But Seo-jin’s body responded. Strongly. As if it wanted to live with all the desperation of someone who has seen death close by.

— Rate stable. Pressure stabilizing. — The anesthesiologist smiled beneath her mask. — She’ll make it.

When the new heart beat steadily for the first time inside Han Seo-jin’s body, a reverent silence filled the room. It was as if even the monitors breathed a sigh of relief.

Seo-jin woke up two days later. The light in the room was soft, filtered through the blinds. The first sound she heard was the beeping of the heart monitor. The sound was constant. Bright. Real.

She tried to move, but everything hurt—especially her chest, where the heart of a stranger now beat. No, not just a stranger. A donor. Someone who had died so that she could live.

The tears came without her asking.

“Welcome back,” Dr. Choi said, entering the room with a calm smile. “The transplant was a success.”

She couldn’t answer. She just nodded, feeling the weight of gratitude. And also the strange feeling of sharing her body with another story.

— Your body is accepting the new heart well. You still have a long road to recovery, but… you’re alive, Seo-jin.

“You are alive.”

Those words kept echoing in his mind.

Later, alone, she put her hand to her chest. She felt her heart beating. Steady. Determined. Different. And for a moment, she wondered who the donor had been. What he was like. What he liked. If he had a family. If he suffered. If he wanted to die.

She didn’t know his name was Han Jae-ho.

And she still didn’t know that he carried secrets with him that now lived inside her.

But at that moment, all she knew… was that she was alive. And for the first time in a long time, she was afraid of dying again.

Chapter 4 – Broken Mirrors

The sound of the phone interrupted the silent night at the Park & Han law firm. Han Ji-hoon looked up from his report, irritated. It was late, and he hated being interrupted—especially when he was immersed in work. For him, work was anesthesia.

— Hello — he said coldly.

The voice on the other end hesitated.

— Mr. Han Ji-hoon? This is Kangnam University Hospital. I’m sorry to call at this hour, but… it’s about your brother.

Silence.

It took Ji-hoon a few seconds to understand. He felt the air catch in his throat.

— Which brother?

— Han Jae-ho. He passed away two days ago. We couldn’t locate him before. We were only able to trace the family connection now.

Ji-hoon slowly stood up, as if he was under the effect of an invisible punch.

— This must be a mistake. My brother and I… haven’t spoken in years.

— We understand. But we thought you should know. He was an organ donor. His heart has already been successfully transplanted.

Ji-hoon hung up without answering. He walked to the office bar, poured himself a whiskey, and stared out the window at the darkness of Seoul.

Han Jae-ho. Your mirror. Your foil. Your twin brother.

They were identical physically, but the world made sure to separate them internally. Ji-hoon followed the path of the law—ambitious, rational, ruthless. Jae-ho, on the other hand, had always been more sensitive, more introspective. A poet who disguised himself as a lawyer.

But there was something else. A real reason for the separation. A buried secret.

The next day, Ji-hoon showed up at the morgue. He asked to see the body. The technician hesitated—the simple burial had already been performed. But through influence or insistence, Ji-hoon gained access to the records room.

When he saw the photo in the medical records, his stomach turned. Even without seeing him in person, he knew: that man, inert and silent, was really his brother.

There was something wrong there. Jae-ho had no history of heart disease. There was no reason for him to die so suddenly.

On the way out, he bumped into Detective Kang Min-jun, who recognized him immediately.

— Han Ji-hoon? Brother of the deceased?

— Who wants to know?

— Kang Min-jun. Police. Investigating unusual cases. And this one… seems strange to me.

Ji-hoon didn’t answer. He just narrowed his eyes, curious.

“Your brother was a donor,” the detective commented. “His heart is now beating in someone else.”

Ji-hoon froze.

- Who?

“Medical confidentiality,” the detective replied, shrugging. “But tell me, Mr. Han… when was the last time you spoke to your brother?”

— It’s none of your business.

— Yes — the detective replied with a half smile. — When someone dies and the body doesn’t explain everything… the living start to matter.

That night, Ji-hoon couldn’t sleep. He spent hours staring at an old photograph in the drawer. He and Jae-ho, as children, smiling together. Before everything fell apart.

Now, Jae-ho was dead. And someone, somewhere, lived on with his heart. With part of him.

Ji-hoon couldn’t explain why, but he needed to find out who this person was. And what exactly had happened to his brother.

Unknowingly, I was about to cross paths with Han Seo-jin.

And nothing would be the same again.

Chapter 5 – Ownerless Heart

Han Ji-hoon had always relied on facts. A renowned lawyer, he built his cases with solid evidence, irrefutable arguments, and a cold logic that cut like a blade. But at that moment, standing before his dead brother’s medical records, something that no court could judge pulsed inside him: doubt.

Jae-ho, his twin brother, had no history of illness. No suspicions, no signs. The last time they spoke was three years ago, in a bitter argument that left deep scars and an even deeper silence. Since then, Ji-hoon has buried the memory like he buries an archived case: sealed, forgotten, locked away in anger.

Now he was forced to reopen this personal case—because something didn’t make sense. Not to someone as methodical as he was.

At the hospital, he was able to access the donation document. A simple form, dated six months before his death. Signed by Han Jae-ho.

“I wish to donate my organs in case of brain death or sudden death.”

Ji-hoon frowned.

Jae-ho had always been reserved. He didn’t like hospitals. He didn’t talk about death. What would lead him to make this decision?

And even stranger: why was the transplant done so quickly? The waiting list used to be long and complicated. But Jae-ho’s heart had found a new body within hours.

He asked for names. The hospital refused. Medical confidentiality. Protocol. Confidentiality. Ji-hoon hated barriers. Especially the ones that hid the truth.

On the way out, he crossed paths with Detective Kang Min-jun again.

“You’re back early, Mr. Han,” he said with a half-smile. “Brotherly curiosity?”

Ji-hoon didn’t answer. But the detective continued:

— I got a curious detail. The patient who received the heart… is a woman. Young. She was in critical condition. Now, she is recovering well.

- Name?

— If I say I can’t reveal it, will you threaten me with a lawsuit?

“Probably,” Ji-hoon said dryly.

Kang Min-jun smiled.

— So why don’t we just leave this out of the record? I’ll give you a clue. But in exchange, if you find out anything… you let me know.

Ji-hoon considered for a moment. Finally he nodded.

— Her name is Han Seo-jin. Investigative journalist. She has no idea whose heart it was.

The name fell like a stone into Ji-hoon’s mind. He wrote it down, nodded his thanks, and left.

On the way to the car, he felt something unusual. A discomfort. It wasn’t physical. It was a restlessness he couldn’t name. The woman’s name—Han Seo-jin—triggered something in his memory. A news report? A scandal? He would need to investigate.

He typed the name on his cell phone. Photos, articles, videos.

And then, an image: Seo-jin, smiling in an old interview. Young, determined, intense.

Ji-hoon stood there, watching that face for long seconds.

She now had Jae-ho’s heart.

But why? Why her?

And more importantly, what could his brother’s heart still be trying to tell him?

Chapter 6 – The Stranger in the Café

It was a mild afternoon, like few others Seo-jin had felt since her surgery. Sitting in a café near the hospital, she was drinking ginger tea, still getting used to her body’s new rhythm. Everything seemed different. The taste of things, the air entering her lungs, even the way her emotions surfaced with greater intensity.

Lately, I had been crying for silly reasons. I had been dreaming of places I had never visited. And sometimes I felt an inexplicable sadness—as if I were mourning without knowing for whom.

— Sorry to interrupt… are you Han Seo-jin?

The voice came with practiced politeness. She looked up to see a tall, well-dressed man with a face that looked like it had been carved by hand. His eyes were cold. But his voice… soft, almost cautious.

— I am — she replied, suspicious. — Do we know each other?

He smiled with the charm of someone who knows he can disarm suspicions.

— I saw an old article of yours. About corruption in the adoption system. Excellent work. I… I admire your journalism.

Seo-jin relaxed a little. It was still common to receive comments about that report.

— Thank you. Are you a journalist too?

— No. Lawyer. My name is Ji-hoon. Han Ji-hoon.

She raised her eyebrows.

— Han?

He disguised it, smiling.

— Funny coincidence, isn’t it?

Seo-jin shrugged, but something about him piqued her curiosity. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her—with a mix of guilt and urgency. Or maybe it was just post-surgery paranoia.

—And what brings you here? Besides praising nearly dead journalists?

He laughed naturally. He was good at this. Pretending.

— Curiosity, perhaps. Or destiny. The truth is… I heard about your transplant. And I couldn’t help but want to meet you.

She frowned.

— How did you know that? This is not public.

Ji-hoon paused. He needed to play carefully.

— An acquaintance works at the hospital. He mentioned it in passing. I know it sounds invasive, and… maybe it is. But I had someone close to me who donated their organs. Since then, these stories have touched me differently.

A half-truth. But enough.

Seo-jin, oddly enough, didn’t pull away. There was something about the way he spoke—even with his arrogant lawyer appearance—that made her want to hear more. Like he knew things she didn’t even know she wanted to know.

“I… appreciate it,” she said finally, trying to smile. “It’s not every day that a stranger approaches me so politely.”

Ji-hoon lowered his eyes for a second. “Unknown.” That was what he was to her. And he needed to continue being that. For now.

—Would you like to talk more sometime? — he ventured.

Seo-jin hesitated for a moment. But surprisingly, he nodded.

- Perhaps.

When she walked away, Ji-hoon remained there, watching her until she disappeared around the corner.

She was more than he had expected. Strong, intelligent, with a sparkle in her eyes that Jae-ho would have admired.

But there was something else. Something he couldn’t yet define.

And for the first time in years, Han Ji-hoon felt fear.

Not what she was.

But than he himself could feel.

Chapter 7 – Echoes of a Strange Heart

Han Seo-jin studied herself in the mirror more closely than usual. Her post-transplant recovery was not quick, but the changes were undeniable. Her body was gaining strength again, as if it had been invigorated by an invisible force. She felt lighter, less tired. But the changes were not just physical. They were more subtle, more intense, and much more disconcerting.

It was as if she were waking up to a new version of herself, someone with different feelings, new reactions. There were moments when she felt a sudden melancholy, as if she were invaded by an inexplicable longing. And then, out of nowhere, her mind would take her to a memory that she didn’t know was hers—a landscape she had never visited, a smell of flowers she had never smelled.

But the strangest thing was the dreams.

At night, Seo-jin would close her eyes, but what visited her were not just nightmares or disconnected flashes. They were vivid visions. She would see a house, a library full of dusty books, and the feeling of being alone, but with something that caught her attention—as if someone had been there but had left. And in one of those dreams, she was in a car, at night, looking in the rearview mirror, as if she were running away.

It was all so clear and so real.