Chapter 22: Effortless Defense

Rayen 

The sight of my brother’s face scarred, blood-streaked, but unmistakably alive—shattered everything I thought I knew.

“Aconcagua…”

His name came out as a broken sob.

My mind couldn’t catch up.

Six months of mourning.

Six months of staring at an empty grave beneath the cold Altiplano rain.

Six months of feeding my anger until revenge was the only thing keeping me standing.

All that grief had been for a dead man who was now breathing in the doorway of my husband’s bedroom.

I pushed myself off the bed, but my legs trembled beneath me.

“You’re… you’re alive.”

“Get back, Rayén!”

Aconcagua’s voice cut through the room.

He didn’t look like a brother returning from the dead. His face was tense, desperate, almost frightened.

“Lautaro, drop the weapon! Drop it now!”

Lautaro didn’t move.

He stood between us, his broad body shielding me from the doorway. His Sig Sauer remained trained directly at Aconcagua’s chest.

“Lower your weapon, Aconcagua,” Lautaro said calmly. “You blew your entry. The outer security grid is already locking down.”

“I don’t give a damn about your security grid!”

Aconcagua took an uneven step forward.

Blood seeped through his tactical vest and dripped onto the polished floor.

“I came for my sister. Move.”

Something about Lautaro’s calmness disturbed me.

Why wasn’t he surprised?

Why did he look as though he’d been expecting this?

I looked from my brother to my husband.

Then the answer hit me.

“You knew.”

Lautaro’s jaw tightened.

I grabbed the edge of the mattress to steady myself.

“Lautaro… you knew he wasn’t dead.”

He didn’t turn around.

“Rayén, stay behind me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

The shock of seeing Aconcagua alive twisted into fresh anger.

My eyes dropped to the stiletto lying near my feet.

Before I could think, I dropped to my knees and grabbed it.

I came up behind Lautaro, driving the blade toward his shoulder.

“Tell me the truth!”

He disarmed me before I could touch him.

He barely turned.

His hand caught my forearm with precise, effortless control. He redirected my strike, twisted my wrist, and forced my fingers open.

The stiletto flew from my hand and skidded beneath the nightstand.

Before I could react, he caught my other wrist.

One quick movement, and he pulled me against his chest, drawing both my hands behind my back.

His grip was firm but controlled.

He wasn’t hurting me.

That almost made me angrier.

I struggled against him.

“Stop,” he breathed against my hair. “Control yourself, Rayén. Look at him.”

“Let me go!”

Tears blurred my vision.

“You lied to me! You let me believe he was dead!”

“I saved his life!”

His voice hardened.

His grip tightened just enough to keep me still.

“I pulled him out of a ditch in the Andes six months ago. He had three Altiplano bullets in his chest.”

I stopped fighting.

“Ask him who put him there.”

My breath caught.

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at my brother.

Aconcagua hadn’t moved.

He stood in the doorway, his weapon lowered slightly.

He looked nothing like the brother I remembered.

He looked exhausted.

Hunted.

Afraid.

“Aconcagua…”

My voice broke.

“Is that true?”

He swallowed.

His eyes dropped to the blood on the floor.

“He… he got me out of the valley, Rayén.”

His voice was rough.

“Lautaro’s men hid me in a safehouse near the coast while I recovered.”

My stomach twisted.

“Then why?”

I pulled uselessly against Lautaro’s hold.

“Why let me believe you were dead? Why let me marry the Don of the Errázuriz family to buy peace for a war that was built on a lie?”

“The war wasn’t built on a lie about your brother.”

Lautaro’s voice was quieter now.

His breath brushed my ear.

“The war was ordered from inside your own home.”

Aconcagua’s head snapped up.

“Lautaro, shut up.”

His voice carried sudden panic.

“Don’t do this here.”

Lautaro didn’t look away from him.

“Who gave the order, Aconcagua?”

His voice became cold and commanding.

“Tell your sister who ordered the hit on your life after you refused to execute the Errázuriz council. Tell her who signed your death warrant.”

Aconcagua said nothing.

His breathing became uneven.

He glanced into the dark corridor behind him as though he expected someone to appear.

“It was Beltrán,” I whispered.

My mind raced.

“Beltrán betrayed Father.”

“No.”

Aconcagua’s answer was barely audible.

“Beltrán didn’t give the order, Rayén.”

He took a shaky step backward and grabbed the doorframe.

Blood continued spreading across his vest.

“Beltrán takes orders.”

His eyes met mine.

“Just like the rest of us.”

My heart dropped.

“Then who?”

My voice cracked.

“Who gave the order?”

Aconcagua stared at me.

There was something in his eyes that made the room suddenly feel colder.

Grief.

Fear.

Regret.

Then he said the one word I never expected to hear.

“Mother.”

Everything went silent.

The word hung between us.

Mother.

Before I could process it, a low mechanical screech came from somewhere beneath the estate.

The emergency lights in the ceiling flickered.

Then turned red.

A silent pulse of crimson washed over the room.

“What was that?” I whispered.

The explosion answered me.

BOOM!

The eastern wing shook violently.

The walls trembled beneath us.

The floor jumped.

The enormous windows shattered at once, exploding inward in a storm of glittering glass.

I screamed.

Lautaro moved instantly.

He released my wrists and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me down against him as the shockwave tore through the room.

Glass rained across the floor.

Aconcagua dropped behind the doorway for cover.

Lautaro reached for his second weapon and drew it from his belt.

Then came the sound that froze my blood.

Heavy boots.

Running up the staircase.

More than one pair.

Someone was coming.

And they were coming straight for us.