Falling for my Enemy's Brother
Chapter 80: A Night Tilted

Chapter 80: A Night Tilted

No hello.

No greeting. Just that fierce, smoldering gaze locked onto her, sharp and unblinking.

The weight of that look pinned her in place, heart pounding in a way she couldn’t control.

His eyes slowly drifted away from her face, scanning her surroundings like he was studying every detail, taking in the room, the faint light, even the way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.

It was awkward, raw, and charged with something Merlina wasn’t quite used to.

Keith, oblivious, kept talking. "That artwork is dope," he said, squinting at the screen, eyes drawn to a rustic wooden sculpture sitting on a shelf just behind her. "Where are you? Like, at family home or something?"

"Yeah," Merlina muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, too nervous to say more. Her eyes kept darting toward Craig, who hadn’t once broken his gaze. His presence was magnetic, he filled the entire screen, like nothing else existed.

He said nothing.

She said nothing.

That quiet gaze between them, heavy with unspoken feelings, freezing everything out.

Then Keith broke the silence, stumbling a little. "Uh, with your dad? Is your dad over there?"

"Yeah," Merlina said quietly. That was all she could manage. Then, as suddenly as he’d appeared, Craig turned and slipped out of screen without saying a word.

Keith followed a second later, waving casually. "Nice seeing you, Merlina."

And then it was just Phoebe again but Merlina could still feel it in her chest. The weird, quiet tension. "I should go," she blurted. "It’s late here."

"Wait, already?"

"Yeah, I’m kinda tired. I’ll text you later."

"Okay," Phoebe said slowly, her brow furrowed. "You good over there?"

"Yeah, totally." She ended the call before she could say anything else.

Then she sat there, phone still in her hand, staring at her own reflection in the black screen. Her face was flushed. Why had he come on screen like that? What for? To rattle her? Why hadn’t he said anything?

"Ugh," she breathed, clutching her chest as her heart thudded hard, a sudden wave of confusion hitting her. Why did he still have this much control over her?

She stood up, grabbed the little handheld mirror off the nightstand, and stared at her face.

"What were you even looking at, Craig?" she muttered, frowning. "I didn’t even have lip gloss on." She tossed the mirror back onto the nightstand, annoyed.

She shook her head, refusing to let it get to her. Nope. Not doing this. He wasn’t going to ruin her night. Or her winter break.

With a deep breath, she walked back to the room, dropped onto the bed and opened Instagram. Her cousins, Isabella and Carlos, had been buzzing all day about a festival happening in three days. Streets packed with food, music, fireworks and festivities.

She clicked on the flyer: Carnaval de Invierno.

On the bed, she laid out her outfit for the festival, a cropped tee, winter jacket, flared jeans, and glimmering star-shaped earrings.

Caption: Three days Count down to Carnival de Invierno 🎡🌺 Can’t wait! #MallorcaVibes #NoDramaJustFiesta

And just like that, her happiness was back in her own hands, no more waiting on anyone else to hand it over. Because she could now see that Craig Lesnar knew exactly what he was doing, he was trying to mind fuck her, twisting her thoughts like some cruel game.

First he’d pretended to care about her, then ghosted on her like she never even existed, now he invaded her FaceTime with Phoebe, but couldn’t even say a word to her. Just showed up to remind her how little she really mattered. Who does that?

For the hundredth time, she shook the thought loose, unwilling to let Craig’s games steal another moment from her. Outside, the world waited, vibrant and relentless, pulling her away from the dark edges of her mind.

The streets of Mallorca were alive. Bursting with color, music, and motion. The Carnival day had arrived like a fever dream, wild, loud, and impossible to ignore.

There were dancers in feathered skirts, stilt walkers juggling flaming pins, and brass bands battling for attention on every corner. She hadn’t realized how much she needed this. Noise. Distraction. Color.

Family.

Merlina moved through the crowd with her siblings, Alistair and Melissa, flanked by their cousins, Carlos and Isabela. Arms linked, they swerved past a man selling glowing balloons, nearly tripping over a toddler in a butterfly costume. Above them, fireworks cracked through the sky, lighting up the city in flashes of electric pink and neon green.

It felt like something out of a dream.

Merlina’s chest tightened just a little. Being here with them felt like stepping into a memory. Before everything got complicated. Before grief had its claws in her. Before her mother died.

She could almost see her. Loud, a little dramatic, always doing the most. Her mom would’ve made them stop for corny group selfies, handed out custom tees that said "Cousin Crew" in bold letters, and probably dragged them into a dance circle the moment she heard music. The kind of stuff that made them roll their eyes at the time but deep down, they loved it.

But now, there was only the echo of her presence. A quiet ache tucked beneath the music.

Still, Merlina was here. In Spain. With people who knew her laugh, her moods, her favorite flavor of cotton candy. For tonight, she just wanted to feel that joy again.

"Merlina!" shouted Isabela, waving frantically from a churro stand. "¡Dame tu teléfono! (Give me your phone) We need photos. Come on!"

Isabela was technically her cousin, but they’d grown up a little distant, this was the perfect time to bond.

Her thick curls were tied up with gold ribbon, and she had three glittery stars glued to her cheekbone. She spoke English with effort and an accent thick with music, but it only made everything she said sound like a song.

Beside her stood Carlos, Isabella’s elder brother, tall, tan, always chewing gum, and constantly checking himself out in shop windows. "You better not post ugly photos of me again," he warned, giving her a mock glare.

"Carlos, no seas dramático, (don’t be dramatic)" Isabela rolled her eyes. "He posted one shirtless photo and now he thinks he’s a celebrity."

The town square pulsed with life. Lights shimmered above like low-hanging stars, and the scent of popcorn and roasted almonds clung to the warm Mallorca air. Laughter rippled through the crowd, rising over the hum of carnival music and the soft whirl of the towering Ferris wheel spinning slow and majestic in the distance.

They reached the base of the Ferris wheel, massive, lit in gold and blue, practically scraping the stars. Isabela squealed and rushed off toward the ticket booth, dragging Alistair and Melissa with her.

Carlos lingered beside Merlina, eyes scanning the crowd.

"I should probably go keep an eye on them," he said with a smirk. "Before Isa tries to pay in churros again."

Merlina laughed. "Go. I’ll be right here."

Carlos gave her a playful salute and jogged off after the others. That’s when it happened. A tug at her left ear, then a faint metallic clink.

Merlina frowned, reached up. One of her silver hoop earrings was gone. "Of course," she muttered.

She pulled out her phone and switched on the flashlight, crouching near the edge of the pavement. Carnival lights danced on the ground in messy patterns, making it hard to see anything clearly. She squinted, scanning the cracks and shadows for a glint of silver.

"Looking for something?" A voice came from behind, low and way too calm.

She didn’t even glance up. "Yes, Carlos, I—"

Her voice faltered.

Something in her chest fluttered then dropped. That voice, it was too deep, too familiar, too American to be Carlos.

Slowly, she turned.

And everything else faded.

Standing there, barely a foot away, was Craig Lesnar.

Her brain short-circuited for a second.

Like, wait, what? Here? Now? Of all places.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might shatter free from her ribs, one foot slid back instinctively, as if needing proof he was real, that he was actually standing there.

The carnival lights flickered across his face, gold and blue hues painting sharp shadows under his cheekbones.

His hoodie stood out against the swirl of festive color, dark and simple amid the glitter and feathers. His eyes caught hers with a sloppy kind of honesty, like he wasn’t trying to impress or charm, just desperately holding himself together, afraid of falling apart right there in front of her.

There was something unguarded and unfiltered in the way he looked at her, somehow making her chest tighten in a way that was both painful and unbearably beautiful.

Why was she frozen when every part of her screamed to run? A storm of disbelief, nervous heat, and something dangerously close to the fear of wanting him churned low in her stomach.

Her thoughts tangled and stumbled over themselves, desperate to make sense of the impossible, of him standing there, just inches away.

She swallowed hard, knowing this night had just tilted her world off its axis, and nothing would ever feel quite the same again.

What. The. Hell.