Hearts Under Pressure
1355 Words
“Dad, I got your medication,” I said, setting the paper bag on the side table. “If the bank approves my loan, we can finally prepare for your surgery.”
Papi looked at me with eyes full of pride but sadness too.
“Oh, my daughter … it hurts me to see you like this. You don’t deserve all this struggle. All I can do is pray that things turn around for you.” He gently took my hand in his.
Before I could answer, Alejandra’s voice cut through from the living room.
“It’s time to pay my tuition. I’ve already missed the special classes because you haven’t paid. How am I supposed to graduate like this, Isa?” she said, adjusting her headset like she was too busy for the conversation.
Papi turned to her, frowning. “Maybe you could speak to your sister with a little more respect.”
Alejandra rolled her eyes.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, forcing a smile. “You will graduate. I’ll make sure of it.”
She didn’t answer she just stood up and walked out without even saying goodbye.
“See you later, Papi,” I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead before heading out.
I climbed into our old truck and drove toward the restaurant, trying not to let Alejandra’s words sting too much.
“Thank goodness you’re here, Isa,” Aunt Jessica said as soon as I walked in. She looked pale and tired, rubbing her forehead. “We haven’t made any sales all morning. The portions are smaller, the food quality’s slipping… this place *needs* renovations, please.”
“I know it’s frustrating, Aunt Jessica, but give me a little more time. Please don’t give up on the business,” I said gently.
She sighed but nodded. “Be strong, sweetheart.”
Her words didn’t make me feel better. I stood at the counter for a while, staring at the empty tables. Should I just… sell the place?
Before the thought could settle, my phone buzzed it was Sophia.
Filipe and I had been best friends since we were kids, but Sophia… I met her in college. Most people didn’t know what she really did for a living, but I did because she trusted me.
“Come over to my place,” she said over the phone. Her voice was calm, but there was something underneath.
“Aunt Jessica, keep an eye on the shop,” I said, grabbing my bag.
When I got to Sophia’s apartment, the air smelled faintly of smoke and expensive perfume. There were cigarette butts in an ashtray, and a couple of used condom wrappers on the floor.
“Sophia…” I said with a frown.
She didn’t answer she just placed an envelope on the table. “That’s for your dad’s medication and Alejandra’s tuition,” she said, looking exhausted.
I blinked. “Where did you get this from”
“One of the rich clients came in last night,” she said flatly. “It was a good night. Now, before you start judging me, take the money.”
I shook my head, my voice shaky. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Don’t cry,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “Or I’ll take it back.”
Her words were half a joke, but her eyes were wet.
“I know you hate how I make my money, Isa,” she said, pouring herself wine. “But I live in reality. Some people have patience for slow suffering. I don’t. I get things done.”
“You could stop, Sophia. They’re never going to stop taking advantage of you.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I’m the oldest in my family. Bills need to be paid. And who better than you to understand what that’s like?”
Her voice cracked, and she wiped her cheeks. “Don’t preach to me when you’re still breaking your back for your family too. We’re the same.”
I looked at her for a long time before picking up the envelope. She was right we were both chained to responsibilities we couldn’t walk away from.
“Say hi to Mr. Montenegro for me,” she said as I left.
The rest of the day blurred by in work until I heard the familiar rumble of a motorbike.
“Hey, bestie ice cream?” Filipe grinned, stopping in front of my house.
“Sure,” I said, tying my hair back and hopping on.
We were halfway down the street when traffic stopped. Police motorcycles lined the road, and the street cleared for a convoy of sleek black cars.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“That,” Filipe said, pointing to a license plate, “is Lucian Monroe.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know the Monroes?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Nope. But if they can shut down an entire street like this, I guess they’re someone worth knowing,” I teased.
Filipe chuckled. “The Monroes are one of the most powerful families in the country. Their dad died young, so the eldest son took over the legal empire early. Barely had time to live before the responsibility swallowed him.”
“Sounds fun,” I said dryly.
He smirked. “Lucian Monroe. CEO of Monroe Legal Group. His younger brother is Lucas. Their mom, Patricia, is known as ‘Power Monroe’ President of the firm. They’re billionaires, Isa. Everything they touch turns to gold.”
I just muttered under my breath, “Must be nice.”
### Lucian’s POV
“Can I come in, Lucian?” Lucas stood at my door holding a bottle of my favorite wine.
I didn’t even look up from my papers. “Do you want to talk about how you embarrassed yourself in front of the board last Monday? Or the stunt you pulled skipping the senator’s wife’s meeting?”
Lucas let out a long sigh. “I didn’t mean for things to go like that. Law’s never been my thing, you know that. I’m not like you or Mom or Dad. I’ll never reach your level, but I’m trying.”
“Your best isn’t enough,” I snapped. “You’re a Monroe. We have a legacy to uphold. You have no idea what it cost me to get here.”
He dropped his eyes. “Sometimes I wish I had my brother back the one who cared about me, not just the CEO of Monroe Legal Group.”
He walked out before I could reply. My chest tightened, and I slammed my fist on the desk. Another fight. Another fracture.
That evening, I walked into the dining room. Mom was already seated. She lifted a forkful of turkey but set it down.
“What now, Mom?” I muttered.
“I want you to start a family, Lucian. You’re not getting any younger.”
“That’s not on my list right now,” I said flatly.
“You always have an excuse. First, it was building the company you’ve done that. Now? You won’t even *look* at a woman. You’re afraid of love and commitment!”
“I have you and Lucas. I don’t need a wife. If I want company, I can get a w***e of my choosing any night at any club.”
“Holy Mary have mercy,” she muttered, horrified. “No son of mine will mix with filthy, money grabbing women.”
I pushed my chair back. “I’m not here to listen to all this nagging. I have work to do and as you can see, I’m about to eat.”
She stood up her voice sharp. “Suit yourself, Lucian Monroe. But mark my words you *will* get married. And you *will* give me an heir.”
“Over my dead body!” I yelled. “Do your worst, Mum!” I grabbed the wine bottle I was about to open and hurled it at the wall. It shattered with a loud crash, red spilling down like blood.
- Writer
