Chapter 120: Chapter 120

Charles wanted to believe his son. Wanted to believe it could be as easy as Craig made it sound. Walk away, forget the girl, get back in line and he’d never hear the name Merlina Sanchez again.

But Charles Lesnar was no fool, he had been around too long to buy into fairy tales.

He had seen the pictures from Paris. The way Craig held her tight, possessive, not like someone passing time but someone staking a claim.

He’d watched the press conference, heard the rawness in his son’s voice when he said her name, as if the cameras weren’t even there.

He’d seen the videos from campus, glances too charged. And above all, he had seen the desperation in Craig’s eyes, when he showed up here, unprepared, the same day that girl got expelled.

He’s seen the desperation in his eyes, this very moment when he said he was going to walk away. It was all born from panic, frenzy and blind determination.

It was obvious that this wasn’t some fleeting infatuation, and that was the problem.

Charles had watched powerful men, brilliant men, disciplined men all fall apart over women. Women who knew exactly how to get inside their heads and rot them from the inside out. He’d seen careers collapse, empires dissolve. Because some man thought love was bigger than legacy.

He wouldn’t let that happen to Craig.

He didn’t care what his son claimed he would or wouldn’t do. Words were useless. Charles had never relied on promises when leverage would do.

He’d ended far more dangerous ties before. A girl like Merlina? That could be handled. Quietly and permanently.

So, he didn’t need Craig’s word. He already knew what had to be done.

Finally, with a quiet, almost bored calm, he murmured, "If you think this ends with the expulsion, you weren’t paying attention."

Craig blinked. "What?"

Charles didn’t repeat it. He simply straightened a paper on his desk, the gesture neat and intentional. "This conversation is over."

Craig stared at him, confused. And for a split second, something in his expression cracked, frustration, pain, disbelief. Maybe all of it.

"I said it’s over," Charles repeated, firmer now.

Then he turned his attention fully back to his desk, like Craig wasn’t in the room anymore. Like the words "I’ll walk away" didn’t even mean a thing to him.

Craig didn’t know how long he stood there. A few seconds. Maybe a lifetime. But eventually, he walked away, numb, his body moving on its own.

Now, in one of the penthouse rooms, he sat slumped on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, one hand buried in his hair.

His father’s words looped in his mind.

’Why did you think it was wise to let that same girl into your life?’

He didn’t have an answer. Or maybe he had too many. Because he tried. God, he’d fought it.

He’d fought the feeling, fought her, even fought himself. Tried to push her memory away, again and again.

But she was already living in his silence, under his skin, in every breath. What was he supposed to do, tear his heart out just to forget her? How do you control something that doesn’t respond to logic?

Craig let out a breath, shaky and exhausted. He wasn’t even angry anymore. Just worn out. Drained to the bone.

He didn’t know what his father meant about it not ending with the expulsion, and right now, he didn’t have the strength to figure it out. But deep down, something cold and heavy was beginning to settle in his gut.

He knew he had to warn her. He had to give Merlina a heads-up before whatever was coming landed at her feet.

But how? How do you tell someone that being with you might ruin them? That even walking away might not be enough?

He leaned forward, pressing his palms against his eyes like he could block it all out.

It wasn’t supposed to be this messy.

They weren’t supposed to get this deep.

He knew he and Merlina had crossed lines they shouldn’t have. He knew people got hurt, Adriana, Louis and maybe even her friends.

He knew they’d been selfish with their feelings, clinging to something that had no place in the eyes of others.

But what they felt for each other had never been a game. It wasn’t meant to hurt anyone. It wasn’t planned, or wanted, or fair, but it was real. And they were both powerless to stop it.

So why did it feel like they were being punished for it? Like the universe had looked at them and decided that being together was a sin too great to forgive. was penance for craving something that was never meant to be theirs.

And now he wasn’t sure if there was a way out that wouldn’t destroy them both.

Craig sat motionless, staring at the muted skyline beyond the glass windows. Then reached for his phone, inside his coat pocket.

He needed to hear from her.

Not because he fingured out what to say, all he knew was that he needed to hear her voice.

So his thumb hesitated over her name, a flicker of guilt slicing through him. He shouldn’t be calling. Not when it had barely been minutes since he told his father he’d walk away. But everything inside him revolted at the thought.

"Hey," Merlina’s voice came softly, from the other end.

Hearing her voice nearly broke him. He stood without realizing it, maybe standing might somehow steady the ache tightening in his chest.

"Hey," he said quietly, "How are you holding up?

He heard a small sigh. "Tired," she admitted. "But... okay. My mom filed an appeal. They’re letting me stay at Belford while it’s being reviewed."

He let out a slow breath, then sat back down on the bed, one hand clenching the duvet beside him. "That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day."

"Don’t be dramatic, Craig," she said with a tired smile in her voice.

"I’m not," he said. "You’re still there. That’s everything."

Not the kind of quiet that asks for more, but the kind that carries everything they didn’t have the courage to say aloud.

The fear of what it would mean for them if she leaves Belford. How much they already missed each other. How hard it was to pretend they weren’t always thinking about it.

It stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but intimate, tender. A shared ache.

"I’ll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

His voice dropped to something warmer, something only meant for her. "Tomorrow."

There was another pause. He didn’t want to let go of the line. Not yet. Not when her voice was the only thing holding the pieces of him together.

"Don’t disappear on me in the crowd," he said, a faint smile in his voice, like he was trying to make it sound casual, and light but it didn’t quite hide the way he meant every word.

Merlina let out a soft breath, she was smiling even if she didn’t want to. "Only if you promise not to drag too much attention."

He chuckled, a broken little sound. "Still. Don’t disappear."

But the way he said it came out quieter, sadder than he meant, like the thought of losing her had broken through the part of him still pretending everything was fine.

She didn’t respond at first. But then, gently, "I won’t."

He closed his eyes at that. It wasn’t a promise, not really. But it was enough to keep him breathing tonight.

"Get some sleep, Merlina," he whispered. "I’ll see you soon."

He stayed on the line for a moment after she hung up, listening to the dead silence, wishing it still held her breath. Then he placed the phone down slowly, like he was setting down something that was now too fragile to hold.

Morning came too fast.

Merlina stood in front of the mirror, tightening her scarf and forcing herself not to yawn. Her backpack was half-zipped, earbuds tangled, and she still hadn’t found her mascara.

A knock rattled her door.

She froze, glanced at the clock. Too early for visitors.

Phoebe was hunched over the sink with a toothbrush in her mouth, eyeliner in one hand, trying not to stab herself in the eye. Megan had both arms stuck inside her wardrobe, muttering something about her "traitor jeans" no longer fitting.

So when the knock came again, sharper this time, it was Merlina who sighed, padded toward the door, and opened it.

It was a student worker from the dorm desk holding out a sealed envelope. Thick. Heavy. Stamped in bold, blocky letters:

CONFIDENTIAL – LEGAL DOCUMENTS ENCLOSED

"Are you Merlina Sanchez?" the girl asked.

The girl handed it over without emotion. "This came for you this morning. They said it was urgent."

Merlina stared at the envelope, her name typed in sharp black ink. Her throat tightened.

"Thanks..." she muttered, but the girl was already walking away.

She closed the door. The air in the room changed.nShe tore the seal open and her eyes caught on the first line.

PLAINTIFF: Conor Lesnar

DEFENDANT: Merlina Sanchez

FILED BY: Legal Counsel on behalf of the Plaintiff

NATURE OF CLAIM: Personal Battery and Defamation of Character

FILED UNDER: Civil Case No. 32-87451-BEL

Document prepared by the Legal Affairs Division of CCL Group.

"What the..." Her voice died, fingers tightened around the page. Her mind went blank.

She was getting sued ?

They were actually suing her.

The page began to tremble in her hands, or maybe it was just her hands trembling.

She blinked once. Twice.

Her reflection in the mirror across the room stared back at her, pale and still, like even her own body couldn’t make sense of what she was reading.

Where had this even come from?

She looked down again, rereading the words as if they might soften or change or make any kind of sense. But they stayed the same.

Filed. Official. Real.

Clear as day. Conor Lesnar. CCL Group. Personal Battery and Defamation of character.

And all she could think was—

What the hell was happening?