The stepbrother I shouldn't want

Chapter 34: Chapter 34: The Invitation

My phone rang at seven. I was folding laundry, my mind on Priya’s hand closing around the flash drive.

Mom’s name lit the screen.

"Hey," I said, tucking the phone against my shoulder.

"Eliora." Her voice was bright, too bright. "James and I have something to ask you."

I set down a sock. "Okay."

"Smith & Hendricks is hosting a small ceremony next Friday. The board, some clients." She paused. James murmured in the background. "They’re recognizing Lucian. The Hendricks merger."

My stomach tightened. "Recognizing him?"

"James wants to make things right." Her voice dropped. "They’ve been arguing. This is his way of..." She trailed off. "He wants his son to feel seen. We want you there. As family."

Family.

"Friday?"

"Seven. The Hendricks penthouse." She laughed, nervous. "Short notice. But it would mean so much."

"Okay," I said. "I’ll be there."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

I hung up. I looked at my phone, thumb hovering over Lucian’s name.

I texted: Your father is throwing you a party. Did you know?

Three dots. Then: I’m trying to get out of it.

Eliora: Don’t. He wants to make things right.

Lucian: He wants to look like a good father. Different thing.

Eliora: My mother wants me there. And I want to see you.

A long pause. Then: I’ll be there. But I’m not wearing a tie.

Eliora: You’d look good in a tie.

Lucian: I’d look better out of one.

I smiled. My cheeks warmed.

Eliora: Friday. Don’t be late.

---

The Hendricks penthouse was glass and marble, the city spread below like a circuit board. I wore a black dress borrowed from Priya, too tight, the kind of thing that made me feel like pretending.

My mother found me at the bar. Cream silk, her hair pinned up.

"Eliora." She kissed my cheek. "You look stunning."

"So do you."

She squeezed my hand. "James is nervous. Keeps checking his watch." She leaned in. "Lucian’s not here yet. Be kind to him. He’s been through so much."

I nodded.

The elevator chimed.

I turned.

Lucian stepped out. Black suit. No tie. Top button undone. His hair still damp, dark and curling. He scanned the room until he found me. His mouth curved, sharper than a smile.

He walked toward me.

"You’re wearing a dress," he said, stopping close. I smelled Him.

"You’re not wearing a tie."

"I told you." His eyes dropped to my throat, lower. "You look..."

"Lucian?"

A voice behind him. Female. Bright. Familiar in a way that made my shoulders tense.

Lucian’s face changed. Closed off. The hunger vanished.

"Zara," he said. Flat. Careful.

She stepped around him. Tall. Blonde. A red dress like she’d been sewn into it. Her hand found his arm, fingers wrapping around his bicep.

"I heard James was throwing you a party." She didn’t look at me. "Had to see it myself. The great Lucian Smith, getting Daddy’s approval." She laughed, musical, cruel. "Took long enough."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "What are you doing here?"

"Your father invited me." She finally looked at me. Blue eyes, cold, assessing. "And you are?"

"Eliora." My voice came out steady. "Ariana’s daughter."

"Oh." Her eyes widened, then narrowed with delight. "The stepsister." She tasted the word. "Lucian mentioned a new sister. Didn’t say you were..." She looked me up and down. "Pretty."

Her hand was still on his arm. Her thumb moved. Slow.

Lucian pulled away. "We should sit. The ceremony’s starting."

"Of course." Zara smiled at me, all teeth. "Lovely meeting you, Eliora. We’ll talk more. I have so many stories about Lucian. From before." She leaned in, her perfume sharp. "He used to be so good. So attentive. Didn’t you, Lucian?"

She walked toward the tables, her red dress swaying.

Lucian didn’t move. His hands were fists.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"An ex. From before."

"Before me."

"Before everything." He reached for my hand, then stopped. Dropped his arm. "She’s nothing. Was always nothing."

I looked across the room. Zara had found a seat near the front. Her eyes kept drifting back to Lucian.

"She’s watching you."

"I know."

"She touched you like she still..."

"Eliora." He stepped closer, voice dropping. "Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t do this. Not here." His eyes searched mine, desperate. "She doesn’t matter."

But she did. I felt it in my chest, hot and sharp.

---

The ceremony started. James spoke. Words about dedication, loyalty. I didn’t hear them. I watched Zara watch Lucian. Watched Lucian stare at the floor, jaw tight.

Then James said Lucian’s name. Applause. Lucian walked to the front, accepted a glass plaque he didn’t look at.

Zara clapped the loudest.

Afterward, she found him by the window. I was close enough to hear.

"You look good, Lucian." Her hand found his arm again. He didn’t pull away this time. "The suit. The no-tie thing. Very you."

"Zara..."

"Your father told me about the trouble." She leaned in, voice dropping to a purr. "The money. The arguments. Said you were going through something." Her thumb stroked his sleeve. "You should’ve called me. I always helped, didn’t I? Remember the Hamptons? When you were so stressed? I made it better."

His throat moved. "That was a long time ago."

"Was it?" She laughed. "Feels like yesterday." She glanced at me, catching my eyes over his shoulder. "Some things you don’t forget. No matter who comes along."

My phone slipped. Clattered to the marble.

They turned. Lucian’s face went pale. Zara smiled.

"Eliora," she said. "Just catching up. Old friends."

I bent for my phone. My hands shook. My cheeks burned. I wanted to say something cutting, something to wipe that smile away, to make her hand drop and never touch him again.

I walked away.

---

The bathroom was marble and mirrors. I leaned against the sink, palms flat against cold stone, my reflection flushed, wild-eyed.

The door opened.

Not Priya. My mother.

"Eliora?" Ariana stepped in, cream silk rustling. She looked at my face, my hands gripping the sink. "Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You’re shaking."

"I’m fine."

She came closer. Her reflection appeared beside mine.

"Who was that woman?" Quiet. Careful.

"Zara. Lucian’s ex."

"I see." She was quiet. "You left quickly."

"Didn’t want to interrupt."

"Interrupt what?"

I looked at her. Her eyes held mine, steady, seeing too much.

"Nothing," I said. "They were talking. I needed air."

"Eliora." She touched my shoulder. "I’ve been watching you tonight." Her voice was soft, gentle, terrifying. "The way you looked at him when she touched him." Her eyes searched mine. "The way you looked at her."

My blood turned to ice.

"I’m not accusing you of anything," she said. "I’m asking you to be careful. This family, it’s fragile." She paused. "If something were happening between you and Lucian, something that crossed a line, it wouldn’t just hurt you. It would destroy everything."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"There’s nothing happening," I whispered.

She held my gaze. Three seconds. Then she nodded. Slow. Not believing. Choosing to pretend.

"Good," she said. "Because family is complicated enough without adding..." She stopped. Shook her head. "Just be careful, sweetheart."

She kissed my cheek and left. The door clicked.

I stayed at the sink, my heart hammering.

The way you looked at him when she touched him.

She’d seen. She’d seen everything.

---

I pulled out my phone. Typed to Lucian: I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.

I walked out, past Zara’s red dress and Lucian’s dark eyes. Past James’s proud smile and my mother’s worried face.

The elevator opened. I stepped in.

A hand stopped the doors.

Lucian. Breathless. Hair falling across his forehead.

"Eliora..."

"Don’t." I pressed the lobby button. The doors tried to close. He held them.

"She’s nothing. I swear."

"She touched you like you were hers." My voice cracked. "And you let her."

"Because I didn’t want to make a scene. My father was watching. Because..."

"Because you’re still hiding." The elevator buzzed, angry. "From him. From her. From everyone." I looked at him, eyes burning. "When are you going to stop hiding, Lucian? When are you going to choose me in front of everyone instead of just dark corners?"

He stared at me. Mouth opened. Closed.

The doors beeped, insistent.

I reached up. Pried his fingers from the doorframe.

"Let me go," I said.

He did. His hand dropped. The doors slid shut, his face disappearing, eyes wide, mouth open, hand reaching too late.

The elevator dropped. My stomach with it.

I leaned against the wall, forehead pressed to cool metal.

My phone buzzed.

Lucian: I’m coming down. Wait for me.

I didn’t reply. The lobby opened. I walked through, past the doorman, into cold night air.

Another text.

Lucian: Eliora. Please.

I was at the curb, hand raised for a taxi, when the lobby doors burst open.

His footsteps echoed on the pavement. He caught my arm, spinning me around. His chest heaved, his eyes wild in the streetlight.

"Don’t walk away from me," he said. "Not like this."

I stared at him, at the desperation carved into his face.

"I’m tired of hiding," I whispered."pretending I’m just your stepsister. Stop letting her touch you like you belong to her."

He pulled me closer, his forehead dropping to mine.

"I don’t belong to anyone but you," he said, voice breaking. "You know that. You have to know that."

The taxi pulled up. I stepped back.

"I’ll call you," I said.

I climbed in. The door closed. Through the window, I watched him stand alone on the curb, hands in his pockets, watching me drive away.

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