Not Family Yet

“Neville, this is my pride and joy, Veronica,” my father said, his voice dripping with pride as he gestured toward me.

Veronica.

My real name hung in the air like a heavy fog. My cheeks burned so hot I was sure they were turning as red as a tomato.

Memories of that night at the club rushed back all at once, when he had told me his name and the way I had boldly looked into his eyes and replied “Gina.”

I had lied right to his face without blinking. And now, my father had just exposed me.

I held my breath, bracing myself for the moment Neville’s eyes would widen, or for a sly smile to cross his face. Instead, nothing happened.

He barely even blinked. His light brown eyes swept over me with complete, total indifference.

He stepped forward, towering over me in his tailored jacket, looking every bit composed while I was just the opposite. He extended a polite hand.

“It's nice to meet you, Veronica,” he said smoothly.

His tone was completely flat and devoid of any form of warmth or recognition.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly as I reached out to touch his. His grip was firm and cool, pulling away almost immediately, just the cold greeting of a complete stranger.

My heart plummeted into my stomach.

“Well, now that everyone has met, let’s go into the dining room,” Dad announced, completely oblivious to the silent shock crashing over me.

“Dinner is served.”

“That sounds wonderful, Jackson,” Amelia said, slipping her arm through my father’s as they led the way down the corridor.

We took our seats at the long mahogany dining table. Dad sat at the head with Amelia, while Neville sat directly across from me.

As the caterers served plates of roasted chicken and creamed potatoes, Neville played the part of the perfect, polite son.

He answered my dad’s questions about his company, spoke casually about managing his own place across town, and used flawless table manners.

And me? He completely ignored me.

Not once did his eyes linger on me or make any effort to catch my gaze. When I mistakenly bumped my foot against his under the table, he simply shifted his leg out of the way without even looking up from his plate.

A wild mix of confusion, embarrassment, and rising anger began to boil in my chest.

Did he really not recognize me?

How could a man devour me in the way he did and then completely forget my face three days later? Was I really that forgettable?

Was Alex right about me being completely boring?

The thought hit me like a slap to the face. The more Neville acted like I was invisible, the more upset and agitated I became. I could barely force down a single bite of food.

It irritated me that I was feeling this way, he was simply a fling, Maureen had it all the time but I guess no one ever tells you how to get over one night stands.

“We really want this transition to be smooth for both of our families,” my father said, raising his wine glass with a huge smile. “To bringing our families together. To Neville and Veronica.”

“To family,” Amelia toasted happily.

Neville raised his glass, casually clinking it in the air without even making eye contact with me. “To family,” he murmured smoothly.

That was the final straw. My throat felt like it was closing up, and my head was pounding with frustration.

“Excuse me,” I said abruptly, standing up from the table and smoothing down my dress. “I’m just going to step into the kitchen to get a glass of cold water.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Dad said, barely looking up from his conversation.

I hurried out of the dining room, down the quiet hallway, and pushed open the heavy swing door into the back kitchen. It was empty and dimly lit. I leaned against the cool marble countertop, poured myself a glass of ice water, and downed it in one long gulp.

My hands were shaking as I set the glass back down. I pressed my palm over my chest, trying to calm my racing heart.

He forgot me. He actually forgot me.

“You should drink more slowly, I don't want you choking yet”

My eyes snapped open, and I turned around.

Neville was standing near the edge of the pantry, the kitchen door quietly swinging shut behind him.

The cold, polite mask he had worn at the dinner table was completely gone. In its place was a sharp, dangerous smirk, and his light brown eyes were burning into mine with terrifying intensity.

I stood glued to the floor in total shock. “You… you remember me?”

“Did you really think I forgot?” he asked softly, pushing off the counter and closing the distance between us in three smooth, quiet strides. He stepped right into my personal space, towering over me just like he had at the club.

“You acted like I was a complete stranger!” I hissed, my initial shock turning straight into defensive anger. “You sat there the entire dinner treating me like air!” my face burned in frustration with myself. Why the hell was I acting this way?

Neville placed one heavy hand on the counter right behind me, trapping me against the edge.

He leaned in close, his intoxicating cologne washing over my senses, making my knees instantly go weak.

“I had to play nice for our parents, didn't I?” he whispered, his deep voice sending a shiver straight down my spine. “Besides, I wanted to see how long you could handle it before breaking.”

My face flamed with heat. “Neville, back up. Someone might walk in!”

“Let them,” he murmured, lowering his head until his lips were brushing the shell of my ear. “care to explain why you gave me a fake name?”

I swallowed hard, my spine pressed flat against the counter. “it was supposed to be just a fling Neville, you didn't need to know my real name and now that our parents are getting married, We have to forget it ever happened”

Neville pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of my jawline.

“Forget it?” he whispered, his thumb moving up to rub over my bottom lip. “You really think it’s that easy? You think I can just drive back to my house and forget the way you moved against me?”

Every part of my brain screamed at me to push him away, but my body refused to move. The sheer heat rolling off him kept me completely paralyzed.

“We’re step-siblings now,” I choked out, staring up at him.

“Not yet,” he corrected smoothly, a wicked smile touching the corner of his mouth. “They aren't married yet.”

Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, followed by the sound of Amelia’s voice calling out, “Neville? Sweetheart, where did you go?”

In an instant, the dark, intense spell snapped.

Neville stepped back smoothly, dropping his hand from the counter and adjusting the cuffs of his jacket as if nothing had happened.

His expression instantly shifted back into the calm, polite persona he showed our parents.

He looked down at me one last time, his eyes flashing with a sharp, dangerous promise.

“See you around, little sister,” he whispered softly.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked calmly out of the kitchen to answer his mother.

I stayed pinned against the marble counter, my hand pressed over my hammering heart, my lips still tingling from his proximity. I took a shaky breath, as the realization dawned on me that my quiet, safe world was officially over.