Diogo Jota's widow Rute Cardoso has opened up on the evening of the former Liverpool star's fatal Lamborghini crash and the heartbreak she still suffers

Just 11 days after Diogo Jota tied the knot with his childhood sweetheart, Rute Cardoso, the unthinkable happened. The Liverpool forward was travelling alongside his brother, Andre Silva, to catch a ferry back to the UK for pre-season training.

Jota, 28, had savoured the glory of lifting the Premier League title at Anfield and the Nations League with Portugal before exchanging vows with Rute at a ceremony in Porto, close to where the pair had first met as teenagers at high school.

The former Wolves star had chosen to make the journey back to the UK by ferry, having been advised to avoid flying following minor lung surgery. But Jota and Silva, himself a professional footballer, were killed on July 3, 2025 when their hired Lamborghini crashed on a motorway in Zamora, Spain. The brothers' deaths triggered an enormous wave of grief from the football community and far beyond.

A new biography of Diogo Jota, published by Reach Sport, tells the intimate story of a life so cruelly cut short. Featuring interviews with his family, team-mates and managers, the richly detailed book serves as a heartfelt celebration of a beloved husband and father of three.

In this extract, taken from Chapter 1 of the biography, Rute recalls the devastating moment she learned of Jota's death. "It was a surprise," says Rute Cardoso, Diogo Jota's wife, regarding his choice to hire a Ferrari and later a Lamborghini during the summer of 2025, reports the Mirror.

"Unlike most players, who like fancy cars, jewellery and watches, Diogo was never into that sort of thing. He was happy with the cars we had. So perhaps because he'd never been particularly into cars, he took that chance to try driving a Ferrari before our wedding.

"After that, he would also rent a Lamborghini, which he had to drop off in Santander." Jota had several important commitments lined up during his break in Portugal: his recovery from surgery, attending the wedding of José Sa, and most importantly, his own wedding.

He managed to fulfil all these commitments. His return trip to Santander was scheduled for 2-3 July 2025, accompanied by his brother, André. Before departing, Diogo hired the Lamborghini.

As their departure approached, they visited Rute's sister's house, giving their family the opportunity to say farewell to Diogo and André. "That way, they had the opportunity to see the damned car and have dinner with us."

Rute remembers having gone to "put the boys to bed" and, when she returned to the living room, discovering Diogo and André almost ready to depart. To split up the journey, they intended to stop overnight at a hotel in Benavente, Spain.

"A few minutes after they'd left, I sent Diogo a message saying, 'Safe journey'. He replied with an emoji, and I told him to keep his eyes on the road." It was the last message that he replied to.

"At our wedding, my bridesmaids and I had organised a surprise for him - a dance. On the night of the accident, at around 22.40, the photographer sent me the video of it, which I forwarded to our group chat.

"They replied that Diogo looked like someone falling in love for the first time." Desperate to share the clip, Rute fired off another message to her husband. "It said: 'When you stop, I've got a video to show you.' It was delivered, but it was never read."

Naturally, Rute was well aware that Jota was travelling, so an unread message raised no red flags. Everything appeared to be going smoothly.

"Meanwhile, an uncle of mine who works in Spain had just returned from a trip. I rang my aunt to tell her I was leaving to join Diogo in Liverpool on Friday, and asked her if they wanted to pop round to our house before then."

They made their way over, completely unaware of the significant role they were about to play that evening. "After my aunt and uncle had left, I looked at my watch and thought it was about the time that Diogo and André must have been arriving at the hotel.

"I sent him another message, just asking, 'Well?'" This time a grey tick showed up on the WhatsApp message, but the second tick confirming delivery never appeared. A worried Rute sent him "another one, then another one...and none of them were delivered".

There was one more thing she could attempt to calm her growing unease: a message to André. "That one wasn't delivered either."

Rute started to shake, dreading that something terrible might have befallen them. She turned to her sister for reassurance, who suggested they could be somewhere with patchy signal or their phones might have died. But Rute's worst fears were already spiralling.

"Ever since my eldest son was born, I've become afraid of so many things. The week before, Diogo and I had talked about it – about the fear the children would be left to fend for themselves if anything were to happen to us.

"When I realised the messages weren't being delivered, all that pessimism came flooding back." Almost instinctively, Rute phoned a friend, Catarina, to check whether she had reserved Diogo and André a room at the hotel in Benavente.

Catarina hadn't, but she knew which hotel it was. Immediately, Rute called the hotel, enquiring whether two men who'd said they'd be arriving late had checked in. Two brothers in a green Lamborghini.

The hotel receptionist's response came in a completely matter-of-fact tone. No, they hadn't yet arrived. Overwhelmed with worry, Rute called André's girlfriend Paula, who confirmed she hadn't heard from him for several hours.

Rute urged her to try reaching him, while continuing her own desperate search for answers. She felt compelled to keep acting, keep searching, keep doing something. Simply waiting felt unbearable.

She contacted a hospital in Benavente, but was informed they couldn't share that type of information. She then attempted to reach the Spanish police, without success. Her anxiety was beginning to consume her.

Meanwhile, her sister Lídia suggested another approach: they could ring Uncle Vítor, a lorry driver, who might be able to extract more details from the authorities.

"I rang him," Rute remembers, "explaining that I couldn't get hold of Diogo and that they hadn't arrived at the hotel yet. I asked if he could help me."

On the other end, Vítor asked his niece to hold on. He grabbed another phone with a Spanish number and contacted the traffic police, while keeping his Portuguese phone connected to the call with his niece.

Then Rute heard her uncle say into the other phone: "Yes, two brothers." Rute felt an overwhelming, unshakeable certainty that something had occurred. And yet....

"My sister and I were confused. How did they know they were brothers?" Yes, there might have been an accident; yes, their phones might have been damaged; yes, and they would be alright soon enough.

"Suddenly, my uncle asked me to put Nuno, my brother-in-law, on the line. At that time of night, in the silence, I could make out every word they were saying. I heard my uncle tell him: 'The bodies are being taken away'.

"I think he added 'to the mortuary', but that's when my mind went blank. Bodies? My brother-in-law froze. My sister took the phone from him and asked my uncle to speak to her.

"My main concern was to ring Diogo's father and tell him: 'You must come here immediately.' I rang André's girlfriend and said the same thing: 'Paula, come over now.'".

At that moment, the panic started to intensify. An overwhelming urge to stay active also set in. "I began to realise that it might be true, even though I wanted to believe it was impossible. According to my watch, I walked 11 kilometres that night, just pacing around the yard at my sister's house."

Two psychologists from the National Institute of Medical Emergencies had already turned up to support Rute and the rest of the family when Uncle Vítor rang again to tell her that there was something crucial she needed to hear.

On the other end of the line was a Spanish police officer who, after confirming that he was speaking to Rute Cardoso and that he had Jota's ID in his possession, stated the following: "I hereby declare the death of Diogo Jose Teixeira da Silva, born on 4 December 1996."

Rute paused before allowing a tear to escape. She stayed in disbelief, insisting it couldn't possibly be real. Her mother and mother-in-law sobbed with an almost unbearable anguish.

Rute continued moving restlessly, her voice rising as she clung to her final reserves of strength, refusing to acknowledge what had happened. She recalled how she would joke with Diogo about his good fortune and how everything seemed to work out for him - in his personal life, his career, absolutely everything.

"I just kept saying to my friend Catarina: 'This is a joke, it can't be true. There's no way in the world this can be true!'". Time dragged on. Rute couldn't say exactly how long. Minutes that seemed to stretch into eternity.

"My sister pulled me closer to her and spoke to my heart. Only then did I begin to accept. To understand." With clinical detachment, the Spanish authorities informed Jota's wife that she would need to attend the mortuary to retrieve his and his brother's possessions.

"I told the driver I wanted us to take the same route that they had taken. I imagined that, so many hours on, there would be no traces left, but I wanted to know where it had happened. But when we reached that cursed Kilometre 64, what was left of the car was still there."

Rute desperately attempted to escape the vehicle, only to find the rear doors locked. She found herself frantically hammering on the window from inside, like a terrified child.

She eventually managed to rush towards the scene, only to be held back by an officer who urged her to keep her distance and spare herself the harrowing sight. Heartbroken, she relented.

They made their way to the mortuary, where Rute's father was already there waiting. She requested to see her husband's body but was denied.

She sat in a room where, through a small window, she was shown Diogo's body on a stretcher and André's inside a box. Both had been placed in a bag.

She was handed Jota's watch, wallet and wedding ring. The bodies were loaded into vans and the sorrowful journey to the funeral parlour continued. Eventually, they made their way back to Portugal.

Rute travelled in the van alongside Diogo's body, with Catarina by her side. Overcome with exhaustion, she finally drifted off to sleep. Perhaps in a nightmare, none of this would be real.