Falling for my Enemy's Brother-Chapter 49: Truth Hurts

The slap cracked through the air like a whip.

Merlina’s hand collided with Conor’s cheek so hard that her own palm stung from the impact.

She stood firm. Didn’t blink. Her breath came quick, chest rising and falling, anger radiating from her.

Conor staggered back slightly, his cheek turning a deep red, his expression stunned. But Merlina’s fury was louder than the silence that followed.

"I don’t know how you were raised," she said through clenched teeth, "but you don’t lie on the dead. Especially not my mother. Especially not about something this disgusting," she spat, rage trembling through her voice.

"I’m gonna let this go," he said. "Only out of the respect I have for your mother. But if you ever try this again," his voice dropped, deadly calm, "you’re gonna regret it."

She stepped into his space. "Fuck you!" she snapped.

Her voice ricocheted off the walls, raw and full of fire. He pulled back, but she didn’t stop. Her body shook as she took more steps toward him, eyes wild with disbelief and disgust.

"Everything I ever heard about you, every rumor, every warning, is nothing compared to the despicable, rotten animal standing in front of me right now," she spat. "How dare you? How dare you stand there and say my mother...my mother, had an affair with you?"

Her chest rose and fell with every word, like each breath was trying to stop her from falling apart.

He didn’t flinch. He pulled out his phone, his hands oddly calm. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"Why would I lie?" he said, unlocking it. "Huh?" His voice was rising now, cracking. "You think I’m making this up for fun? Look."

He opened his iCloud and swiped, then shoved the screen toward her. Merlina recoiled, stepping back like the phone was a loaded weapon.

"Whatever that is—"

"See for yourself. This is evidence. You’d rather cling to your fantasies than face the truth?" he barked.

Her stomach churned as she forced herself to look.

The image hit her like a bullet. Her mother. In a dark parking lot. Her hand cupped around Conor’s neck, his face tilted toward hers. His lips hovered over Marjorie Sanchez’s mouth, close, too close. Not a mother figure. Not a family friend. Lovers.

"No," she whispered, then she hesitantly snatched the phone from his hands. Her fingers shook so hard she almost dropped it. "This is fake. This has to be." She looked up at Conor, almost teary now. "Why are you doing this? What do you gain from all of this?"

"Keep swiping," Conor said quietly.

She did.

The next screen blinked to life. A video.

She stared at the play button, her finger hovering like it might burn her. Once she saw it, there would be no taking it back.

And then she saw it—raw and shaky footage, grainy and unforgiving. Her mother and Conor, sharing a kiss. Not lustful. Not passionate. But intimate. Real.

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t think.

"What..." she gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. Her knees buckled slightly, and she gripped the edge of the nearby rail to stay upright.

Her mother, kissing him?

It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t the woman who raised her, who taught her right from wrong, who told her to stay away from men like the Lesnars. And yet there she was. In grainy pixels. Choosing him.

Tears blurred her vision.

Conor stepped back, like he’d seen something inside her collapse. "Someone sent that to me a few days before her death. They were trying to blackmail us."

He paused, guilt hanging in the silence.

"They might’ve contacted her too. Maybe it pushed her over the edge. I don’t know." He ran a hand through his hair. "But they knew. Someone knew. And maybe they have more."

Conor watched Merlina, frozen in shock, her face pale and stricken. "I didn’t kill Marjorie," he said, voice cracking for the first time. "I know what it looks like. I know how it sounds. But she meant something to me. Something real."

"Shut up." She tossed his phone to the ground, letting it clatter across the floor.

Conor bent, retrieved it slowly. His hands were just as shaky as hers now.

"It’s the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. I couldn’t show this to the police, not to my dad, not even to my brother," Conor said.

Merlina looked up at him.

"Not just because of what my dad could do to me if he found out, but because I wanted to protect her, your mother."

Merlina broke down completely. She curled into herself, arms crossed tight over her jacket, one hand pressed hard against her mouth to muffle the sob threatening to rip free.

"I knew she had a family," Conor muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I didn’t want this to happen, not like this. I never wanted you to find out this way." His eyes searched her face as if hoping to offer something—comfort, understanding, anything.

He took a hesitant step forward, hand half-raised.

"Don’t."

Her voice cut through the air like glass.

She stepped back, eyes fierce through the tears. "Don’t touch me."

He froze, the distance between them suddenly feeling miles wide.

The floor felt like it was spinning beneath her. Her mind reeled.

An affair. A video. Blackmail.

It was too much. All of it.

Her mind raced. If someone had that footage, if someone had sent it to Conor, then someone had known the truth all along. And instead of coming forward, they used it. Played them. Manipulated them. Maybe even silenced her mother for good.

A beep broke the silence.

Conor glanced at his phone. "I’m sorry about all of this, I really am. But I gotta go." He waited for her to say something, anything. But she stayed frozen.

He turned to leave.

Then paused in the doorway.

"And Merlina," he said looking back at her, "don’t go around accusing people of crimes they didn’t commit."

Her eyes snapped to him, blazing.

"I may not be a murderer," he continued. "But I can’t say the same for my dad. He’s..."

He stopped, then fully turned his head just enough for her to see the sincerity in his expression.

"If he finds out about this, about what you’re falsely accusing me of, you might not make it out of here alive. You think this is bad? My father doesn’t give warnings. He erases problems."

And just like that, he vanished, leaving only the threat behind.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Merlina collapsed over the rail, the weight of everything crushing her at once. The tears came fast, violent. She wept until her voice was hoarse, until she couldn’t feel her face. Her mother. Her mother had lied. Had hidden. Had fallen in love with who she thought was the enemy. A student. And now she was gone, and none of it made sense.

Every word Conor had said after the video blurred into static, meaningless noise.

She sat there for what felt like hours, trying to piece together a version of her life that hadn’t just shattered. But the silence mocked her. Nothing made sense anymore. Not love. Not loyalty. Not family.

But then something moved.

A flashlight.

Her teary gaze shot toward the shadows near the window. A faint light. A shadow of someone, barely visible.

A phone.

Recording.

Someone had been watching the entire time.

Her blood froze.

And just like that, the truth stopped being the worst thing.

Now someone else knew.

Someone else had proof.

The secret wasn’t secret anymore. And whoever held it now held power.