Chapter 9: The Sister’s Warning

Rayén Altiplano POV

The gunshots from yesterday’s raid had stopped by midnight, replaced by the relentless hiss of rain against the stone walls of Las Condes.

Mateo’s men had failed to breach the main house. Lautaro’s tactical perimeter had held, forcing the armored trucks back at the southern gate before they could reach the gravel driveway.

But the attack had shattered whatever fragile peace remained inside these walls.

By dawn, the fortress smelled of spent gunpowder, wet concrete, and cold steel.

I stepped onto the second-floor gallery, pulling my wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The wedding gown from yesterday was gone, replaced by black trousers and a dark sweater.

But I could still remember the hidden seam.

The obsidian stiletto was now tucked safely against the small of my back beneath my sweater.

Below, guards cleared spent shell casings from the courtyard while mechanics worked on a damaged armored SUV. A blowtorch flashed against the gray morning, throwing sharp shadows across the stone walls.

I took the stairs down.

I needed to move.

I needed to breathe outside, even if the sky above me was still trapped behind steel gates and razor wire.

I had barely taken three steps onto the wet gravel when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“You walk through blood as if it were dirty rain, Rayén.”

I stopped.

Millaray Errázuriz stood beneath the eastern overhang, dressed in a tactical vest over a dark turtleneck. Her hair was pulled into a tight braid, exposing the hard line of her jaw.

A Sig Sauer rested in the holster at her hip.

She didn’t look like a Don’s sister.

She looked like a soldier waiting for permission to execute someone.

“Blood is blood, Millaray,” I said calmly. “In my father’s house, we washed it off the driveway before breakfast.”

A bitter laugh escaped her.

“Your father’s house is a pile of cold ash in Barrio Italia.”

She stepped closer.

“And yet you stand here, breathing our air, eating our bread, waiting like a spider while my brother bleeds himself dry trying to keep you safe.”

“I never asked for his protection.”

My voice hardened.

“I never asked to be brought here.”

“No. You came here to kill him.”

Her voice dropped.

“Do you think I’m blind, Rayén? Lautaro may be blinded by whatever debt he believes he owes your family, but I’m not. I saw the way you looked at him in the foyer. I see the way your hand moves toward your side whenever a door opens behind you.”

Rain began falling harder, cold drops striking my face.

“Lautaro told me about Mateo,” I said.

Her expression changed.

“He told me who really orchestrated the attack on my father.”

Something dark flashed across her face.

“Mateo is a dog,” she whispered. “He sold our father to the southern syndicates, and he murdered yours to start this war.”

Her jaw tightened.

“But don’t you dare use Mateo’s treason as a shield.”

She suddenly stepped forward.

Before I could react, her gloved hand closed around my throat.

My back slammed against the cold granite wall.

My hand caught her wrist while my other hand slipped beneath my sweater. My fingers found the cold volcanic stone of my hidden blade.

I could draw it.

I could end this before she even reached for her gun.

“Do it,” Millaray hissed.

Her grip tightened.

“Draw whatever you’re hiding under that shirt. Give me a reason to put a bullet through your forehead in front of every guard here.”

I didn’t move.

I forced air through my constricted throat and held her stare.

“If you shoot me…” I choked out, a dangerous smile touching my lips, “…you’ll have to explain to Lautaro why you destroyed the only treaty keeping half this city from burning his empire down.”

Her eyes narrowed.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Rain soaked through my sweater and ran down my neck beneath her fingers.

Finally, she released me.

But she didn’t step away.

Instead, she leaned toward my ear.

“Listen carefully, Rayén Altiplano.”

Her voice was low and cold.

“My father died two days ago. My brother is all I have left.”

She pulled back slightly.

“He thinks he can save everyone. He thinks he can calculate every risk, even you.”

Her eyes hardened.

“But I don’t calculate.”

She pressed one gloved finger against my chest, directly over my pounding heart.

“I destroy.”

I didn’t flinch.

“If my brother takes a bullet because of your vengeance,” she continued, “I won’t just kill you. I’ll hunt down every surviving Altiplano cousin, every loyal lieutenant, every distant relative hiding in the southern provinces.”

Her voice became frighteningly calm.

“I’ll erase your name from history so completely that even the dirt will forget you existed.”

I stared into her amber eyes.

I understood her anger.

Her grief was as raw as mine.

We were two broken women standing on opposite sides of a war, both bound to the same man.

“Then we understand each other,” I whispered.

My hand slowly moved away from my weapon.

“Because if Lautaro dies before I get the truth, you won’t have to hunt me.”

I held her gaze.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Millaray studied me for a long moment.

Then she exhaled and stepped back.

Without another word, she adjusted the holster at her hip and walked toward the mansion, her boots splashing through the puddles.

I leaned against the wet stone wall and took a shaky breath.

Then I looked up.

Lautaro stood behind the reinforced glass of his private study.

He was watching us.

His dark coat hung over his broad shoulders, and one hand rested against the glass directly above where I stood.

His face revealed nothing.

How long had he been there?

How much had he heard?

I barely had time to wonder.

A piercing alarm suddenly tore through the courtyard.

I turned toward the iron gates.

The hydraulic system wasn’t opening them.

It was jammed.

A plume of black smoke erupted from the control box near the guard shack.

Then came a dull, sickening burst of gunfire.

My body went rigid.

The shots hadn’t come from outside.

They had come from inside the house.

Lautaro’s hand slammed against the gallery glass above me.

His mouth moved in an urgent command I couldn’t hear over the siren.

Move.

He gestured wildly toward the side of the courtyard.

I turned.

Two men in Errázuriz security uniforms stepped out of the lower side entrance.

Their assault rifles were already raised.

And both barrels were pointed directly at me.