Page 280 of Corrupting Camille

He lays it reverently atop Diego’s casket, fingers shaking slightly. When he finally speaks, his voice is broken glass, ragged and raw.

“You carried me when I couldn’t stand. You held me up when I was drowning in my own rage. You never asked anything from me, hermano. You never needed me to say the words.”

His throat tightens visibly, pain bleeding into every syllable. Silence presses around him like a vice.

“So I’ll say them now.”

A heavy pause hangs in the air, unbearable, endless.

“I loved you.”

His voice cracks on the last word, soft and shattered, breaking something open inside my chest. Rosa gasps softly, a fragile sound that cuts to the bone. Lucia’s quiet sob rips softly through the mausoleum, the quiet, painful cry of a girl who’s lost too much too soon.

But Kane doesn’t move. He remains there, fists still clenched, jaw still locked, as the priest begins the blessing, Latin murmured low and reverent.

The final prayer fades away. The casket lid is closed with a quiet, devastating click.

And Diego Garcia, brother, father, protector, is laid to rest in earth that has already claimed too many men like him.

***

Later that night, back at the compound, the silence is thick enough to drown in.

Lucia’s finally asleep, curled against Rosa, exhausted from tears she didn’t deserve to shed. Rosa lies awake beside her, dry-eyed now, hollowed out, yet still fiercely protective. Lena is the quiet strength in the background, making sure the world keeps turning even though it feels like it should have stopped hours ago. Marisol and Reina cling to each other, whispers broken, raw with grief, holding onto the fragile thread that still binds our family together.

Javi and Joaquin patrol outside, their eyes sharp and restless, refusing to allow another tragedy tonight. The guards rotate positions with ruthless precision, their quiet footsteps a heartbeat that echoes protection and vigilance.

But Kane?

I know exactly where I’ll find him.

On the balcony. Always there, alone, silent, standing watch over a world he’s never truly trusted.

I step outside, the cool ocean breeze lifting my hair, moonlight gentle and pale, washing over him like forgiveness he won’t yet grant himself. He stands facing the ocean, shirt half-unbuttoned, a drink hanging forgotten in one hand. His wedding band glimmers faintly, gold catching the silvered light. We married quietly, no fanfare, no ceremony. Just signed papers and whispered vows. No one else needed to see it. It was for us, permanent and private.

I walk up behind him, sliding my arms slowly around his waist, pressing my cheek to the warm, tense muscles of his back. He stiffens briefly, then exhales, the tension in his body loosening bit by bit.

“Come inside,” I whisper softly, fingertips tracing slow circles against his chest.

He shakes his head slightly, gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Not yet.”

“Why?” My voice breaks a little. “You don’t have to punish yourself anymore, Kane.”

He’s silent for a long moment, the weight of everything he’s carried heavy between us. “I haven’t let go of him.”

My heart aches, sharp and fierce. “You never will,” I say gently. “You loved him. You don’t ever really let go of the people you love.”

He turns slowly, facing me fully now, his dark eyes searching mine. They’re tired, shadowed, haunted, but they’re his again, no longer hollow. No longer lost.

“I’m done chasing revenge,” he says, voice rough with exhaustion and finality. “But I’m not done building.”

Tears sting hot behind my eyes, but I hold his gaze, reaching up to cup his face. “Then let’s build, Kane. Together.”

He leans his forehead down, pressing gently against mine, our breaths mingling softly, noses brushing. His hands come up to hold my face, fingers brushing tenderly over my skin, thumbs tracing my cheeks.

“How do I deserve you?” he whispers, voice cracking open, raw and unguarded.

“Because you fight,” I tell him fiercely, tears spilling over now, running warm down my face. “Because you love so damn hard, even when it hurts. Because you keep getting up, no matter how many times the world knocks you down.”