Chapter 25: Shattered Convictions

RAYÉN

The white-hot line of thermite hissed through the steel blast doors, throwing sparks across the concrete floor.

Through the damaged intercom, my mother’s voice came again, distorted by static.

“Her blood belongs to Santiago.”

I couldn’t move.

My boots felt rooted to the floor.

The forensic dossier was still clutched in my left hand, the pages crumpled beneath my trembling fingers.

Everything I had believed for the past six months was falling apart.

My hatred had never been mine.

It had been a leash.

My own mother had placed it around my neck, handed the other end to Beltrán, and watched as I walked willingly into this marriage with a blade hidden beneath my wedding gown.

“Rayén, get behind the desk.”

Lautaro’s voice cut through the noise.

He stood beneath the flashing red emergency lights, his Sig Sauer aimed at the melting blast doors.

Blood ran from his temple down the side of his face, but his hands remained steady.

“Lautaro…”

My voice shook.

“She called me ‘the girl.’ She talked about me like I was something she owned.”

“Because that’s what you were to her.”

His eyes remained fixed on the door.

“You were never her daughter, Rayén. You were her contingency plan.”

A sharp crack came from the vault.

The final locking pin gave way.

The blast door groaned as molten metal ate through the steel. Smoke rolled into the room, thick and white, carrying the bitter smell of chemicals.

I stumbled backward until I hit the edge of the steel desk.

My chest rose and fell too quickly.

I lifted the dossier again and stared at the photographs.

The 9mm slugs.

The serial numbers.

They matched the custom armory code etched into my father’s family crest.

The same crest I’d seen on the weapons carried by our guards when I was a child.

My stomach turned.

The hatred that had kept me alive for six months suddenly felt meaningless.

There was nothing left beneath it.

Only emptiness.

I looked at Lautaro.

For months, I’d imagined killing him.

I’d lain awake at night picturing his blood on my hands. I’d prayed for the courage to put a blade through his heart.

I had hated everything about him.

His name.

His voice.

His face.

But now, standing in the wreckage of his estate and watching him protect me from the people who had come to destroy us, I couldn’t escape the truth.

He had known.

From the beginning, he had known I carried a blade.

He had known I wanted him dead.

And still, he had married me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The words broke out of me.

Tears burned my eyes as they rolled down my ash-covered cheeks.

“Before the wedding. Before I tried to kill you. Why did you let me hate you?”

Lautaro’s jaw tightened.

He kept watching the door.

“Because you had to make them believe you hated me.”

I stared at him.

“Beltrán was watching you, Rayén. Every move. Every word.”

He finally looked at me.

“If you started questioning the story, your mother would have noticed.”

His voice softened.

“If your hatred had disappeared, even for a moment, she would’ve known you were no longer useful to her.”

My throat tightened.

“What would she have done?”

“Eliminated you.”

The word landed heavily.

“Before you ever reached my gates.”

He stepped closer.

“I needed you angry.”

His eyes held mine.

“I needed you alive.”

Something inside me cracked.

The man I’d spent six months wanting to destroy had been protecting me while I was busy blaming him for everything.

A strange warmth spread through my chest.

It frightened me.

Because it wasn’t hatred.

Before I could speak, the blast door finally collapsed.

THUD!

The massive piece of steel crashed onto the concrete.

Red embers rolled across the floor.

Three figures stepped through the smoke.

They weren’t wearing ordinary tactical gear.

Their ballistic suits were sleek and completely unmarked. Their weapons were fitted with suppressors.

Then I saw the emblem on the lead operative’s lapel.

My blood ran cold.

The Altiplano sun.

My family’s crest.

“Don Lautaro Errázuriz.”

The man’s voice was muffled behind his mask.

“Step away from the heiress. Our orders come directly from Doña Elena.”

My heart stopped.

“The Errázuriz line ends tonight. The Altiplano estate reclaims its blood.”

Lautaro’s expression hardened.

“You’re standing on my property.”

He raised his weapon.

“Execute your orders if you can.”

He fired.

The shot echoed through the vault.

The lead operative staggered as the bullet struck his shoulder.

The other two immediately opened fire.

Suppressed gunfire ripped through the room.

Concrete exploded around us.

“Down!”

Lautaro lunged toward me.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me behind the steel desk just as bullets slammed into its front.

The metal shook violently.

I could feel every impact through my body.

Lautaro pressed himself over me.

His chest rose and fell against mine.

His torn jacket was under my fingers.

For the first time, I didn’t push him away.

I held on.

I didn’t know when that had changed.

Maybe it was when he told me he’d saved Aconcagua.

Maybe it was when he admitted he’d allowed me to carry the blade.

Or maybe it was the moment I realized he had been standing between me and danger all along.

The gunfire suddenly stopped.

Silence filled the vault.

Only the crackle of burning debris remained.

Then I heard it.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Something was hitting the concrete beside my knee.

I looked down.

Blood was spreading across the floor.

Dark and thick.

It soaked into the hem of my ruined wedding gown.

My heart jumped.

It wasn’t mine.

I slowly looked up.

Lautaro was still over me.

His face was inches from mine.

But his right side was covered in blood.

A jagged piece of rebar had pierced his ribs, driven through him by the collapse above.

“Lautaro…”

My hands flew to his side.

They came away red.

“No.”

My voice broke.

“No, no, no.”

His eyes fluttered.

For the first time since I’d met him, I saw weakness in them.

But even then, his gaze stayed on me.

He lowered his forehead against mine.

His breathing was shallow.

“Don’t…”

He swallowed.

“Don’t look away from me, Rayén.”

My tears fell freely.

“I won’t.”

Behind us, something moved.

Heavy boots stepped over the fallen blast door.

One step.

Then another.

Someone was coming through the smoke.

I tightened my arms around Lautaro.

And listened as the footsteps came closer.