Her Nectar, His Peak

Regan.

"Juanita, will you shut up! You just disgraced our family and you're crying the victim here!" Dad's voice roars, in the drawing room. 

My mum gripping me tight, as she breaks into harsh sobs.

Our little sister, Juanita is sitting down, her head lowered; sobs escaping her mouth. Thank God her 4-year-old son, Thomas isn't here to witness dad yelling on his mother. 

My parents' estate is surrounded by reporters, who want to hear firsthand the story about Juanita. Frankie is outside with the Family's PR team, controlling the flames. 

"Dad, she's suffering as well. This comes as a shock to her." I quietly intone. He cuts me a fierce look. 

"What are you saying, Regan? How is she suffering when she's responsible for this?" Lucas pipes in, his tone harsh. "She's been having an affair in her marriage and now it turns out that her son isn't her husband's kid. He's the son to her husband's employee. A low life. How disgusting." Lucas bites.

Juanita sobs more. She looks at Lucas, her eyes red rimmed. 

"He isn't a low life, Lucas!" She shrieks. "What would you know about love. All of you marrying for the name and connections. Not for love…" She cries, my heart breaking for her, despite my anger. 

"I told you I never wanted to marry Horacio Carmel. But no one listened. You forced me dad. What would I have done…I love Thomas and I always will…" She cracks. 

Her pain mirrors mine. The torture I suffered, loving someone but unable to be with her, because of family. Our reputation.

One of the top families in the States, our name has been built on blood, since the 1800's. And nothing matters to us than maintaining that standard. That was the reason Juanita was married off to Horacio Carmel, a son to another top family in LA.

An alliance to the brotherhood. 

"Take her out of my sight. If I see her one minute longer, I'll do something we'll all regret." Dad's voice cuts into my thoughts.

Juanita pales at his voice and I know she's aware what he's capable of. 

Hastily, I raise a sobbing mum to her feet and come to take Juanita. 

Together, we leave dad's presence. I don't look back, because am afraid of what I'd see in dad's face. Hatred.

It's 8pm in the night and I finally arrive another of my LA homes.

This one is safe for Juanita. No media or family will bother her. I carry Tommy in my hands and together we walk into the house.

The housekeeper immediately comes to take Tommy upstairs, while I guide Juanita to one of the rooms. 

Inside, I open the drapes, so the cool night air can ease her suffering.

We'd have been here earlier, but we had to wait for things to cool with the reporters, before we came. I've been consoling Juanita all day. Her husband has been calling her non stop; threatening for divorce. Threatening hell.

"What's going to happen to me? Do you think Horacio would hurt me?" Juanita's quiet voice breaks me. 

A tremor present. I sit beside her, holding her in an embrace. She doesn't look 26 at the moment. She looks aged. I understand her fear. The Carmels are a family not to be taken likely. Their reputation known wide for taking out any loose ends that ruins their reputation; much like the Heartstones. 

"Nothing would happen to you, Juanita." I reassure her, kissing her head.

She sighs heavily, her body so frail in my arms. She's four years younger than me and has always been my favorite sibling. I love her dearly. I'd ruin anyone, who lays a hand on her.

"You and little Tommy will be fine." I squeeze her tight.

She sobs again. 

"I didn't mean to disgrace our family, Regan. I loved Tommy and I just couldn't end things with him, when dad married me off." She cries.

I nod. It's fine. She loved the guy to have given their son his name. 

My phone rings in my pocket and I glance at the screen. Lucas. Quietly, I lower Juanita on the bed. I slip outside to answer the call. 

"What is it?" I ask, curtly. 

"Is Juanita close by?"

"No." I answer, peeping through the crack in the door. 

"Dad wants us to handle the Thomas guy, now." Lucas reveals.

Cold dread fills me, as my eyes linger on a sleeping Juanita. I can't argue, because I know what it means, once dad has given an order. 

"Am coming. Send me the coordinates." I end the call. 

A text soon enters my phone. My heart beating fast as memories of similar operations like this, flood my mind. This is our nephew's father. Somehow, this reminds me of Rita. My sister. My heart implodes.

***

It's 10pm and we're lying in wait for the right time.

Dad wants me to handle this, when we spoke on phone. I tried to protest, but he instantly reminded me my place. I am his son; bound by an oath to obey the head of our family, no matter what. 

My eye is watching as Tommy's car arrives his driveway. My hands on the weapon. Am shaking. My body coursing with regret as I know what's to come next. As soon as Tommy slips out of his car making a call, I hesitate, my eyes flicking to Lucas. 

"We shouldn't do this, Lucas." I try again.

He cuts me a look.

"Dad's word is law." He doesn't even flinch.

He's tone cold. I face my target. Lucas' words ringing in my head, repeatedly. My body quivering with rage and hate.

Dad's word is law.

I take the shot. Thomas falls to the ground. 

Instantly I retch; all my insides spewing out beside me. Revulsion at the persons my brothers and I have become hit me hard. 

I hear Lucas as he calls Frankie on phone.

"Frankie, get your men to clean up the mess."