Claimed By The Wrong Brother

CHAPTER 1

Sophia's Point of View

"Since we have reached a conclusion, please sign here." I pushed the leather-bound file across the mahogany table, forcing my fingers to remain steady even as the air in the private dining room grew suffocatingly thin.

I hated these closed-off spaces. The restaurant was high-end, the kind that charged a premium for heavy velvet curtains that muffled the sound of the outside world, but all it did was make my skin prickle with unease.

I'd built Hawthorne Supply from a single warehouse contract into a name that mattered in three states, and I'd done it while everyone in this industry assumed I was decoration on Daniel's arm. Every meeting like this one was proof that they were wrong. I'd learned to read a room of men who underestimated me faster than they could finish their first drink, and I'd learned exactly how much of myself I had to armor before I walked in.

The walls seemed to press inward, reminding me of every business meeting that had gone sideways, every negotiation where I'd had to fight twice as hard simply because I was a woman. Men like Langford always circled the same way — charming in the lobby, entitled by the second course, convinced that a signature was something they could barter for instead of earn.

My wedding ring felt heavy on my finger, a reminder of everything this man was disrespecting with his words.

I had dealt with men like him before, too many times. In my five years of playing the perfect wife, supporting my husband's family, and managing my own supply business, I had learned how to breathe through the filth of corporate sharks.

I did it for the business. I did it because every success I built was something I could bring back home, a tribute to the man I loved, a way to prove that I was the asset his family needed me to be. Each contract was a brick in the foundation of respect I was still building.

"The contract, Mr. Langford," I said, my voice clipped, professional, completely devoid of warmth. I tapped the signature line with one manicured nail. "We agreed on the volume, the delivery timelines, and the margin. All that's left is your signature so we can begin production on Monday."

Langford didn't answer. Instead, the heavy legs of his chair scraped against the hardwood floor as he stood up. The sound set my teeth on edge.

He didn't look like a man about to conclude a multi-million dollar supply deal. He looked like a predator that thought it had cornered a rabbit.

He walked around the table, his steps unhurried, deliberately cutting off my path to the door. I didn't move.

I kept my spine rigid, my hands resting flat on the table, watching him approach out of the corner of my eye. My pulse quickened, but I refused to let fear show on my face.

"I'll sign this," Langford said, stopping right beside my chair. The scent of his expensive, musk-heavy cologne filled my nose, making me want to gag.

It was the kind of fragrance that probably cost thousands, yet smelled like desperation and entitlement. "But a deal this lucrative — I think I want something in return first."

He reached down. His thick, damp fingers brushed against my bare arm, sliding up toward the sleeve of my blazer. The touch sent a wave of revulsion through my entire body.

"I'm sure you're tight down there, and—"

I didn't let him finish the sentence. Every ounce of irritation, every bit of disrespect I had ever tolerated in this industry crystallized into a single, sharp point of fury.

No one touched me. No one talked to Daniel Hawthorne's wife like she was a piece of meat.

I shot to my feet, twisted my arm out of his grip, and before he could even register the movement, I drove the heel of my pointed pump straight between his legs.

Langford let out a choked, pathetic wheeze. His eyes rolled back slightly as his hands flew down to his groin. He stumbled backward, his knees buckling, hitting the edge of the dining table and sending a water glass shattering onto the floor. The sound of breaking crystal was immensely satisfying.

"Are you insane?!" he screamed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched shriek as he clutched himself, his face turning an ugly, mottled shade of purple. Spittle flew from his lips. "You stupid bitch, are you completely out of your mind?!"

I looked down at him, my chest heaving, a wild heat rushing through my veins.

"You want to see insane?" I stepped closer, my heels clicking sharply against the floor. "Fine. I'll show you insane."

Before he could pull himself away, I lifted my leg and kicked him in the exact same spot, harder this time, putting the entire weight of my anger behind it.

Langford collapsed completely, curling into a fetal position as tears leaked from the corners of his tightly shut eyes.

"I'll ruin you," he panted into the floor. "I'll destroy your stupid company. You'll never get a single contract in this city again, I swear to God—"

I let out a short, sharp laugh. I knelt down beside him, completely unfazed by his threats, and picked up the fallen pen from the floor.

"It seems like you've forgotten whom my husband is, right?" I whispered. "You think you can ruin a Hawthorne? You think your little company can survive the fallout if people find out what you tried to do in here?"

Langford tried to glare at me, but the sheer pain made him flinch away.

"And oh," I continued, pointing a manicured finger up toward the discreet black dome nestled in the corner of the ceiling molding. "There are cameras in here, Mr. Langford. If you don't want the footage of you assaulting a married woman out on the internet tomorrow morning, you'll sign these papers. I'm sure your wife would be very interested to see it. And your board of directors."

I slapped the file down onto the floor right in front of his face, clicking the pen and thrusting it into his shaking hand.

"So," I murmured, my voice dropping into a deadly, calm purr, "are you signing the deal or not?"

Langford's fingers trembled violently as he pressed the tip of the pen to the signature line, scrawling his name in a messy, barely legible script.

I inspected the signature carefully, closed the leather binder with a satisfying snap, and tucked it neatly under my arm.

"Nice doing business with you," I said, looking down at the broken man on the floor. I didn't offer him a hand up. He didn't deserve one.

I picked up my designer purse from the table, adjusted the lapels of my blazer, and walked out of the private room without looking back once. The cool air of the restaurant's main lobby hit my face, a welcome relief from the stifling tension of the back room.

"Horny bastard," I sneered under my breath, tossing my keys into my hand as I unlocked my car. I climbed into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel, waiting for the adrenaline to fade. My hands were shaking now, the delayed reaction finally setting in, the anger slowly giving way to a buzzing, satisfied relief that I'd stood my ground. I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror, smoothing my hair back into place, and watched the last of the tension drain out of my own face until I looked, once again, like a woman who had everything handled.

Today was Daniel's birthday. I couldn't wait to get back home to him, to celebrate another year of the life we were building together. I had managed to secure the massive contract — despite everything, I'd won.

I had his favorite vintage wine waiting in the kitchen, and the custom watch I'd ordered months ago was wrapped safely in my dresser. I'd spent weeks choosing it, tracking down the exact engraver his grandfather had used, making sure every detail was perfect, right down to the small inscription on the inside of the band. I wanted to see the look on his face when he opened it. I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and tell him how proud I was to be his wife, how much he meant to me, how none of the ugliness of my day mattered as long as I got to come home to him.

My phone lit up on the dashboard, Daniel's name flashing across the screen. My heart lifted immediately, the way it always did when I saw his name. I swiped to answer.

"Hey, birthday boy," I said, my voice rich with laughter and pride. "The Langford deal's closed. Are you

ready for me to come home and spoil you?"