My Brother in Law has Crush on Me

At The Bar

They sat in the lounge, a comfortable distance separating them from Hillary.

Zion, cool and composed, barely glanced her way, his arms crossed tightly across his chest, a subtle barrier between them.

Xavier, ever the playful one, leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he nudged Roy with his elbow.

Xavier: "Isn't that Hillary? The prodigal daughter returns, and not a single welcoming committee? Someone should have sent me a telegram!" He winked, his eyes twinkling with mischievous amusement, a playful glint in their depths.

Roy, ever stoic, took a slow sip of his wine, his expression unreadable, a mask of controlled indifference.

"Why would anyone inform you? You're hardly family." His tone was dry, laced with thinly veiled contempt.

Xavier, undeterred, turned his attention to Zion, his playful grin widening. He playfully poked Zion's arm, a light touch that belied the underlying tension.

"But Zion, my friend, you're about to become her family! Isn't that thrilling?"

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, the sound laced with a hint of mockery.

Zion, maintaining his cool exterior, simply narrowed his eyes, a barely perceptible twitch of his lip betraying his irritation.

His jaw tightened slightly. "Please, Xavier, restrain your enthusiasm."

His voice was low and controlled, yet the underlying tension was palpable, a simmering volcano beneath a calm surface.

Roy, observing the exchange with a critical eye, interjected, his voice sharp and precise. "You two were in the same high school class, weren't you? I'm just curious... you're both in the same class, yet you never had the courage to confess to her. His brother is now effortlessly engaged to her..." His words were precise, his gaze sharp, piercing Zion with a look of knowing judgment.

Xavier, unfazed, shrugged dramatically, a careless wave of his hand. "Ah, high school sweethearts! Except I doubt she remembers our little Zion here—or even knew he existed back then. Time flies, doesn't it?" He winked at Zion, clearly relishing his friend's discomfort, a cruel glint in his eye.

Zion, finally losing his composure slightly, let out a short, sharp breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. "She's living in our villa." The emphasis on "our" was pointed, a subtle assertion of ownership.

Roy's brow furrowed, his expression one of concern. "Indeed. Just don't make things difficult for her. She doesn't seem to remember much of anything." His voice was serious, laced with a hint of warning, a paternal concern underlying his words.

Xavier, ever the smooth talker, simply raised his glass in a mock toast, a theatrical flourish. "Wise words, Roy, wise words. And Zion, my dear friend, remember to respect your elders—especially when they're about to become your sister-in-law! You stand no chance, bro... Didn't she reject you years ago when you confessed? The next day, she was gone," He laughed, a sound both charming and irritating, a cruel jest that stung.

Roy sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Stop it, Xavier... I have a very bad feeling about this."

Zion, his voice low and strained, confessed, "She did... And now she's acting like she doesn't know me at all..."

Xavier, still smiling, leaned closer to Zion, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, his tone laced with malicious amusement. "Well, looks like you'll be calling her 'sister' soon enough. Unless you have other plans...?" He gave Zion a suggestive look, his playful teasing escalating into something more sinister.

Zion, his face impassive, simply glared at Xavier, his silence speaking volumes, a storm brewing beneath the surface. The cool facade was cracking, but he refused to let Xavier see it.

"How could she even remember me if I only looked at her from afar... But remember this: I will never let her marry my brother," he gazed at Hillary; the music was loud, but his voice was firm, resolute.

Xavier rose gracefully and approached Hillary's table, his confidence radiating. "Hey there, beautifuls," he said smoothly, a charming smile playing on his lips. "Looks like an angel's lost in the nightclub... Wanna join our table?"

Jasmine, her eyes sparkling with amusement, turned to Hillary. "Sure, why not? Right, Hillary? You're okay with that, right?"

Hillary shrugged, a playful grin tugging at her lips, a carefree attitude masking her underlying unease. "Sure, why not? It's not like I'm avoiding someone, right?" Camila rolled her eyes, a knowing smile on her face. "Yeah, right..."

They joined Zion's table. Xavier gestured expansively. "Here, sit here, girls."

Jasmine settled beside Xavier, Camila next to Roy, leaving Hillary no choice but to sit beside Zion. Zion's brow furrowed, his displeasure evident. He leaned in, his voice low and laced with disapproval. "What's the engaged lady doing in a nightclub? If Grandpa finds out his favorite granddaughter-in-law is having fun in a nightclub... what would he think?"

Hillary smiled serenely, unfazed, her composure unwavering. "Grandpa would probably encourage me," she said, her tone light but defiant, a subtle challenge in her voice. "Because I'd rather go out than stay home always seeing your face. It brings me bad luck, you know that."

Zion scoffed, his jaw tight, his anger barely contained. "You!"

The others watched, a mixture of amusement and apprehension on their faces as the familiar tension between Hillary and Zion flared, a volatile energy crackling between them.

Hillary sighed dramatically, her exasperation evident. "You know you're the worst."

Zion's voice dripped with sarcasm, his tone cutting and dismissive. "You're like a child. You always need help. Why don't you just hire a nanny?"

Hillary's smile vanished, replaced by a look of irritation, her eyes flashing. "It's not like I'm asking you. You do it willingly."

"Willingly?" Zion laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "As if I could say no if your backer is Grandpa."

Hillary's eyes flashed, her anger barely controlled. "It's not my fault I was born with a golden spoon."

"More like a plastic heart," Zion retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. "You know, you should ask Xavier to hire you for his company, since you're such a great actress."

Hillary bristled, her pride wounded. "I'm not acting. You're the one being a jerk. You know I don't like jerks."

"It's not like I like you," Zion mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, his anger giving way to a hint of vulnerability.

Hillary leaned closer, her voice low and intense, her gaze unwavering. "Who said you need to like me? The first time I met you, my blood boiled. I thought you were going to kill me!"

Zion smirked, unmoved, his composure unshaken. "Then rest in peace. Don't worry, I'll always visit your grave."

Hillary's patience snapped. "You jerk! I won't talk to you anymore. You're a waste of energy!" She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.

Xavier leaned towards Jasmine, his voice hushed, a concerned expression on his face. "Your friend Hillary... is she always like this?"

Jasmine whispered back, a worried frown on her face. "No, she's not. It's your friend who's triggering her bad side. But one piece of advice: don't wake up the sleeping dragon inside her... or else something bad will happen."

Xavier's eyes widened, his surprise evident. "So your friend is really that scary? We have to give them time alone."

Jasmine shook her head. "I think that's a bad idea. Probably the moment we return, one of them will be dead already."

Xavier nodded, his concern growing. "You have a point. Let's just stay here and separate them when needed."

Zion, oblivious to their whispered conversation, slammed his fist on the table, his anger erupting. "What are you two whispering about?"

Xavier smoothly changed the subject, his voice calm and reassuring. "Nothing. I'm just asking... what's your name again?"

Jasmine, relieved, answered, "It's Jasmine."

Xavier, seizing the opportunity, said, "Yeah, I'm just asking Jasmine out on a date."

Hillary's eyes narrowed, her suspicion evident. "And did Jasmine say yes?"

Jasmine, flustered, nodded nervously. "Yes, that's right."

Zion, fueled by alcohol, became increasingly agitated, his movements erratic. He slurred, his words thick with drink. "Look at me... Star... look at me... Why can't you notice me, huh? Am I invisible to you? I'm the one who truly loves you... Can't you see...?" He lunged towards Hillary, his intention unclear, his actions erratic. Hillary pushed him away forcefully, her disgust evident.

"Are you crazy? Mistaking me for someone? You're drunk. You should go home," she said, her voice sharp with annoyance, her body stiffening with revulsion.

Roy, noticing Camila's distress, said, "I'll call her driver to send her home."

Xavier, ever the gentleman, took Jasmine's hand. "I'll send her home."

Jasmine, already quite drunk, mumbled, "One more shot..."

Hillary was left alone with the increasingly inebriated Zion. "Hey... why don't you call your Star... is she your girlfriend...? Hey, wake up..."

Hillary slapped Zion hard, but he remained unconscious. "This jerk won't even wake up... Should I just leave him here...? No... Grandpa would surely be worried... Even if I don't want to, I'll bring you home..."

With a sigh of resignation, she supported his weight, guiding him to his white sports car. After a frantic search, she found his keys, carefully maneuvering him into the back seat. She drove him back to the villa, carrying him inside and up to his room. She laid him on his bed, completely exhausted.

"Gosh, you're heavy," she muttered, collapsing onto a chair, her body aching from the effort.

On his tablet, she saw a bracelet with a charm inscribed 'Star,' in her favorite lavender color. "Who's Star? Is it his girlfriend? Well, if it's true... she's unlucky. There's bad luck sticking with him..."

After showering, Hillary finally crawled into bed, the events of the evening swirling in her mind, leaving her feeling drained and unsettled.