Chapter Eighty-two

Chapter Eighty-two
A sudden knock at the door interrupts our conversation. Diego lifts his hand slightly, gesturing for me to remain seated as he walks over to answer it. I watch him go, my thoughts still circling around everything that has just been said.
From all that I've heard about Diego—from whispers, opinions, and sideways comments—I expected someone far different. And yet, the reality of him contradicts everything I've been told. He isn't cruel, arrogant, or indifferent. In fact, he's quite the opposite.
He's not a bad person at all. If anything, he's proven himself to be considerate. Thoughtful. Loyal to his brother in ways that most people might not notice, but I do. He came to me when no one else did. He spoke to me about his brother—not to expose him or mock him, but to explain, to protect. He escorted me to his brother, stayed by my side, and even made sure I returned safely to the States.
That isn't something a bad person does.
And so I find myself wondering: am I the only one who sees this version of Diego? The good in him? Or is everyone else simply too clouded by past mistakes to recognize who he is now?
Before I can dwell on it further, Diego returns, and a woman steps into the room behind him. She offers a polite smile, holding a small cleaning kit in her hands.
"This is Bailey," Diego announces as he re-enters. "She's here to help tidy things up for you. Although, after this conversation, I'm hoping you'll change your mind about leaving."
I rise to my feet with a polite nod, offering Bailey a gentle smile. "Hi, Bailey. I'm terribly sorry for the mess—I really wasn't expecting anyone. Please, let me help you."
I take a step toward her, but before I can go any farther, Diego gently catches my arm and leads me back toward the balcony.
"Not so fast," he says quietly. "I'm not done with you yet. I think I saw a coffee shop downstairs—let's head there while Bailey finishes up in here."
His tone is calm but firm, his hand still resting lightly against my arm. And just like that, I find myself following him out, unsure of what he's about to say next—but somehow certain it will matter.

We sit on the edge of the shore, the salt-kissed air swirling around us, and yet I feel like I can't breathe. The sky is a deep indigo now, the last traces of sunlight swallowed by the horizon. Diego hasn't spoken in minutes—not since I asked.
"Back at the staircase," I say softly, my voice nearly lost to the waves. "You were going to tell me something. About your uncle, weren't you?"
He nods slowly. "Yeah."
I wait. No pressure. Just silence between us.
He finally says it. "My father killed him."
It still stuns me. Even though I've heard pieces from Rex before, hearing it from Diego's lips makes it more real. More horrifying.
I shift slightly. "Rex told me a little. He said your uncle wasn't fit to rule... that your father made sure the crown would never reach him."
Diego gives a bitter smile. "That's the polite version. That's what my father would have written in a history book. But the truth..." He exhales, eyes locked on the waves. "The truth is worse."
I brace myself. "Tell me."
"My uncle was the crown prince. Groomed from the start. But he cracked under the weight. Drugs. Paranoia. He became violent. He started talking about abolishing the monarchy entirely. Said he wanted to hand the country back to the people. Said the bloodline was cursed."
I blink. "He wanted to end the monarchy?"
Diego nods. "He called it a kingdom built on chains and lies. Said no crown should be inherited by men who didn't earn it. And for that... Queen Mother Inés decided he was dangerous."
My stomach drops. "Queen Inés?"
"She didn't kill him," Diego says. "She's too refined for that. But she summoned my father. Told him it was time to 'protect Spain's future.' She knew exactly what he'd do. And she let it happen."
I feel a cold sweat trickle down my back. "Rex knows this?"
"Not all of it," Diego says. "He knows our father killed his brother. He knows there was a cover-up. But what he doesn't know... is that Inés was the one who ordered the cover-up to continue for decades—even after she stepped away from power."
I frown. "Why would she do that?"
Diego turns to me slowly. "Because she wasn't just trying to protect the monarchy. She was trying to protect herself."
I freeze. "What are you talking about?"
He hesitates. Then leans in slightly. "There was another reason my uncle wanted to end the monarchy. Something personal. Something he discovered before he died."
I feel my pulse spike. "What?"
Diego's voice is so low now it's almost a whisper. "He found out that Queen Inés... was not our biological grandmother."
I stare at him. "What?"
"She wasn't the king's first wife. There was a woman before her. A secret marriage. One the family erased. That woman—my grandfather's first wife—was Spanish nobility, yes. But she was also..." He stops. "She was carrying a child when she disappeared. That child would've been the real heir to the throne."
My whole body tenses.
Diego finishes the thought. "If that child lived, everything we know—everything Rex is fighting to protect—would belong to someone else."
I gasp. "You think the child survived?"
Diego's jaw clenches. "My uncle did. He found proof. Letters. Documents. A birth certificate that never made it to the registry. He believed the child was hidden away to protect her from Inés. That's why he wanted to dismantle the crown—because he realized he might not be the rightful heir either."
My heart races. "And Queen Inés?"
"She destroyed everything she could find," Diego says. "But I think she missed something. I think my uncle hid the proof before he died. And if Rex finds it..."
He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to.
I stare at him. "Does Rex know any of this?"
Diego shakes his head. "Not yet. But he's close. Too close. And if he learns the truth—not just about the murder, but about the lost heir—he'll burn the entire monarchy to the ground."
I whisper, "And what about you?"
Diego's eyes meet mine. "I don't want the crown. But I want the truth. Even if it ruins everything."
Suddenly, I realize something terrifying: I now know more than Rex does. And if Queen Inés ever finds out I know...
I glance back at the castle in the distance. The windows glowing like eyes watching from the dark.
We're not safe. None of us.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I find myself truly listening—really listening—and this time, it's to Diego.
As we stand in front of the towering mahogany doors of the mansion, I pause, stealing one last glance at him. There's something unreadable in his eyes—somewhere between defiance and surrender. He meets my gaze and gives a curt nod before pushing the heavy door open.
I hesitate. "Aren't we supposed to ring the bell first?"
Diego smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting in that familiar way. "I'm his brother," he says, with a casual shrug. "I don't really know what rules apply to me anymore."
The door swings open into silence.
I step inside slowly, my footsteps echoing against marble floors and high ceilings that somehow feel colder than they used to. The air smells like polished wood, old secrets, and maybe even regret. I look around and feel the urge to turn back. "It sounds like he's not here. Maybe it's a sign."
"He's here," Diego replies simply, following me a few steps in before stopping. "And even if he wasn't, you'd wait. You're not leaving this time, remember?"
I inhale shakily. "What if he doesn't forgive me, Diego? I left him. Twice."
Diego raises an eyebrow, leaning against the doorway. "If you killed me in cold blood, he'd still take you back."
His tone is light, but the words are heavy. I glance at him.
"I'll go now," he says, pushing away from the wall. "You need to be alone for this."
But something stops me. A question that's been clawing at the back of my mind ever since he brought me here.
"Wait," I say. "Before you leave—can I ask you something?"
He sighs, eyes lifting dramatically to the ceiling. "You always have too many questions."
"Just one more."
"Go on."
"Why are you helping him?" I ask quietly. "Why are you being kind to me? You've spent your whole life being pushed aside by your family. I'm sure, deep down, you wanted the crown. So... why stand with Rex?"
For a moment, I think he won't answer.
But then he says, without meeting my eyes, "Because I may have been a terrible person—but I was never meant to be a terrible brother."
There's a pause, and he adds, almost too casually, "Okay, fine. I might have tried to sway my father against Rex. Maybe I played the role of the obedient son when I saw the old man was losing patience. And maybe I enjoyed watching Rex stumble, thinking the crown might fall into my hands."
My heart thuds. "What?"
"But I stopped," he says quickly, holding up both hands as if in defense. "I realized too late that I wasn't doing it for the country. I wasn't doing it for Spain. I was just angry. At everyone. At him. At myself."
He finally looks at me, and for the first time, I see a kind of rawness in his expression. "He deserves better. And so do you. Whatever this is between you and him—don't run from it again."
And with that, Diego steps back, leaving me standing alone in the vast, echoing hallway of a home that once felt unreachable. The silence returns—but it doesn't feel empty this time.
It feels like a second chance.