The stepbrother I shouldn't want

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Pretending Strangers

"Eliora, can you pass the salad?"

I reached for the bowl without thinking, my fingers brushing Lucian’s as we both grabbed it at the same time. The contact sent a spark up my arm. I pulled back quickly.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"No problem," he said smoothly. His eyes, however, held mine for a fraction too long, dark and knowing.

It was our first official family dinner as a blended unit. My mother and James had insisted on it, "to start building memories together." The table was set beautifully. Candles flickered. Soft music played.

Except for the man sitting directly across from me.

"So, Eliora," James said. "Your mother tells me you’re in your fourth year of medical school. What kind of doctor do you want to be?"

"Still deciding. Probably internal medicine or emergency medicine. I like the fast-paced side of things."

"Emergency sounds intense," Lucian said casually. "Lots of late nights. High stress. You seem like the type who can handle pressure."

I met his eyes.

"I can."

He smiled slightly.

"I bet you can."

My mother beamed.

"She’s always been so dedicated. Even as a little girl, she wanted to help people. Remember when you used to bandage all your stuffed animals, Eliora?"

"Mom," I said, embarrassed.

Lucian chuckled.

"That’s cute. I can picture it."

I shot him a warning look.

He simply raised an eyebrow.

The conversation moved on, but every time our eyes met, the memory of the lab flashed through my mind... his body on the trolley, his hand around my wrist, the way he’d pulled me close.

"How’s work at the company, Lucian?" James asked.

"Fine," Lucian said. "Busy. The Hendricks account is keeping me occupied."

"Good," James replied. "You’ve been coming in late again."

"Sometimes."

James studied him for a moment before letting it go.

⸻

After dinner, we moved to the living room for coffee. My mother and James sat together on the couch while Lucian and I ended up on opposite ends of the same sofa.

"So," he said quietly, once our parents were distracted. "Stepsiblings."

"Yeah. Stepsiblings."

He leaned back.

"You’ve been avoiding looking at me all night."

"I’m not avoiding anything."

"Liar."

I turned to him.

"What do you want me to say, Lucian? That this is normal? That I’m fine pretending we didn’t meet the way we did?"

He was quiet.

"I’m not fine with it either. But here we are."

My mother called out,

"You two getting along?"

"Perfectly," Lucian said smoothly. "Eliora’s great."

"He’s... fine," I said, forcing a smile.

My mother laughed.

"I knew you two would hit it off."

⸻

Later that night, when it was time to leave, my mother turned to me.

"Stay the night, sweetheart. It’s late, and James has guest rooms ready."

I hesitated.

"Okay."

James showed me to a guest room upstairs.

"Make yourself comfortable."

I closed the door behind me and let out a long breath.

A soft knock came a few minutes later.

I opened the door to find Lucian standing there.

"Can I come in?"

I stepped aside.

"Make it quick."

He closed the door.

"You’ve been avoiding me all night."

"I’m trying to survive this."

He took a step closer, close enough for me to catch the faint warmth of his cologne, close enough that my pulse betrayed me before I could school my expression into something safer.

"Why were you posing as a cadaver that day?"

Lucian paused, his gaze dropping briefly to my mouth before lifting back to my eyes, unhurried and deliberate.

"I was in a bad situation. I needed somewhere safe to hide for a few minutes. That’s all."

"That’s all? You expect me to believe that?"

"It’s the truth." His voice had gone lower, rougher around the edges, as though the lie cost him something to hold onto.

I didn’t believe him. I also couldn’t seem to make myself step back.

"Fine. Keep your secrets."

He didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in slightly, close enough that the space between us felt charged, dangerous, like standing too close to a live wire.

"You keep looking at me like that," he murmured, "and I’m going to forget every reason I have for staying on my side of this room."

My breath caught.

"What reason is that?"

"That you’re my stepsister now," he said quietly. "That this is exactly the kind of complication neither of us can afford."

His eyes searched mine, dark and unguarded for one unbearable second.

"Doesn’t seem to be working, though."

"Lucian..."

"I like you, Eliora." His voice dropped even lower, quiet and rough, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. "You look beautiful tonight. I meant what I said at the wedding. I’ve meant it since that night in the lab, if I’m honest, which is exactly the problem."

My breath caught.

"This is a bad idea, Lucian."

"I know," he said, not moving, not denying it, his eyes flicking briefly to my mouth before forcing themselves back to mine. "I know it is. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to close this distance anyway."

Neither of us moved for a long, taut moment, the air between us thick with everything we weren’t saying.

Then he stepped back, as though tearing himself away from something, and the charged stillness broke.

"Sleep well, stepsister."

He left, closing the door softly behind him.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart racing, my skin still humming from a distance that had never even closed.

⸻

Sometime later, I hadn’t been asleep long when raised voices pulled me awake.

I sat up, listening.

James’s voice was tight and controlled.

I slipped out of bed and cracked the door open.

"...Half a million dollars, Lucian. Unaccounted for. I need you to explain this to me. Tonight."

A pause.

"I can explain," Lucian said.

"Then explain. Because right now, it looks like money left this company, and I have no idea where it went."

Silence stretched.

"It’s not what you think," Lucian finally said.

"Then tell me what it is," James snapped. "You disappear for hours. You come home with bruises you won’t explain. And now company funds are missing."

I pressed myself against the wall, my heart pounding.

"Dad," Lucian said quietly. "You have to trust me. I can’t explain it right now."

"That’s not good enough. Not anymore."

Footsteps thundered up the stairs.

I slipped back into my room before Lucian passed my door, his shoulders rigid, his face carved from stone. He disappeared into his room without a glance.

I stood in the darkness, replaying every word.

Bruises he won’t explain.

Company funds missing.

It’s not what you think.

Whatever Lucian was hiding, it wasn’t just about that night three weeks ago.

It was bigger.

And it was getting worse.

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