Page 51 of Brutal Truths

“But there are holes in what I know. Gaps in my knowledge. So, I ask again, know what?”

Aiden nods when I look at him for encouragement. His unwavering support brings a smile to my face. It’s a constant, reassuring presence. It offers me the courage I need to continue.

“Is Antonio with you?”

“I’m here.” My brother’s firm and familiar voice echoes across the line. “I’m glad you’re safe. I wish you’d have let us know sooner. We were worried.”

“Worried about what, exactly?” The words snap out of me. “That I’d discover the truth. And don’t tell me you didn’t know. I’ve had time to process. If anyone knew it would be you.”

My suppressed anger makes my fists clench. “So… how long?”

“I think this is better discussed in person,” he says carefully. “There are too many layers for a simple phone call. Why don’t you tell me where you are⁠—”

“No! Tell me.”

With a quick, reassuring squeeze, Aiden’s hand presses into my thigh.

The line crackles with an unnerving silence. The static hum stretches, twisting on so long I’m sure he’s hung up.

Then his words hit me like a freight train, and my world tilts on its axis as it unravels.

“Since the day I was sworn in. That’s when I gained access to all of father’s documents. If he’d lived long enough to pass the crown to me, I doubt I ever would’ve found it. But he didn’t get the chance to remove it. The file was all still there.”

A pause. Complete silence.

“Not that it mattered, because it changes nothing.”

Something inside me cracks.

“Lies,” I hiccup but I’m not letting him pretend things are normal. “My entire life has been one gigantic lie.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, pressing in until it’s hard to breathe.

He breaks it with a question I know too well. “Are you going to listen to me or assume you know everything?”

With an exaggerated eye roll, I act as if he can somehow see me through the phone. “Go on then. Enlighten me, Your Majesty.”

Aiden lets out a quiet snicker beside me. “I’m glad to see you give everyone grief.”

I shrug, though my muscles stay tense. Leaning in, his cologne mixes with the crisp morning air. His steady breathing is a quiet anchor against the storm building inside me as I wait for Antonio to speak.

“I understand you’re hurt,” he says. “But know this: you will forever be a Reyes. And my baby sister.”

“But I’m not,” I counter.

“You are.” His voice doesn’t waver. “Is Larkin less of a Cross because the blood running through her veins differs from her parents? Is Tomas?”

“That’s different,” I fire back, feeling unconvinced by my own words. The fact that he’s using his adopted son to make his point irritates me more. “They’ve always known the truth.”

“And now so do you.” Frustration bleeds into his tone. “Listen to me. The man you’ve always called your father still is. Maybe not by blood, but by law—and by every other measure that matters. Just as I am your brother.”

I swear he knows what he’s doing, hitting me when I’m weak.

“I don’t know why it happened. Back then, I didn’t see the point in digging up the past. That part of history died with your parents. But this has never changed, never will. You are Princess Isabel Sofia Reyes. Nothing will ever take that from you or us.”