Claimed by His Stepbrother

Chapter 03-Adrian My PA's voice filled the study, efficient and businesslike. "Since last night's announcement, we've had seven requests already," he said over the phone. "Two want design deals, three are pushing for long partnerships. The rest...they just want their names tied to yours." I smirked faintly, walking closer to the window. The city stretched out in front of me, glass and concrete catching the weak Saturday light. It was still waking up from Friday night, same as the people in it. "And the Europe deal?" I asked, finishing my coffee. "Finalized," he said. "Three more years, confirmed." "Good." My company had its hands everywhere-buildings, hotels, real estate that scraped the sky. Towers with my name on them. Every deal was another stone added to the empire I'd built piece by piece. I'm really proud of this. But my mind wasn't really on business today. "You've done well," I told him. "Take the weekend off." A pause. "Are you sure, sir?" "Yes. I'll call if I need you." I dropped the phone onto the desk, rolled my shoulders back, and left the study. Downstairs, the house was quiet. I poured myself another cup of coffee, leaned against the counter, and let the steam rise into my face. The smell was addictive. First sip-hot, bitter, strong. My one weakness. Some men needed whiskey. Mine was coffee. Always had been. But even coffee couldn't clear away what was stuck in my head. Her. Hazel eyes, startled, widened. The soft weight of her body when she fell into me. That moment was still burned into my chest. Paul's wife. Evelyn. Even saying her name in my mind made something shift inside me. She had been stunning in that gown, untouchable almost. Like art behind glass. But in my arms she wasn't art. She was real. Warm. Trembling. And when her lips parted slightly, God...I knew she had felt it too. I should have stepped back sooner. Should have acted like nothing. Instead, when Paul introduced us, I made it worse. I kissed her hand. A simple gesture. But her breath caught. Her pulse jumped under my touch. I saw it in her eyes, she wasn't untouched by it. I set my mug down, flexed my hand as if her skin still lingered there. This wasn't just lust. It was recognition. Dangerous, because I knew it wasn't one-sided, I hope. Then Paul came to mind. Paul, Paul-unchanged, after all these years. Still full of arrogance. Still wearing his pride like armor. Still clutching his resentment like a child refusing to let go of a toy. I'd seen it in his face last night when I raised that glass to him. He hated it. I enjoyed it. Poor Paul. Always desperate for control. Always so easy to anger. But this time, he had something I wanted. My grip tightened on the mug until it groaned. What did that make me? A villain? A thief? Or just a man finally taking what should've been his? The truth was simple: I didn't come back only for business. I came to set things straight. Paul could keep pretending to be the perfect husband, perfect smiles, perfect life. I knew the truth. He was the same insecure boy he'd always been. The one who hated me for being chosen. For winning when he couldn't. I'd taken from him before. Why should this be any different? A dry laugh slipped out, rough in my throat. I wasn't blind, I knew going after her would mean war. There'd be no turning back. Paul would never forgive it. But honestly? I wasn't sure I cared. I took another slow sip of coffee, the burn grounding me. Evelyn. That woman. She had looked at me like she wanted to hate me, but couldn't. Like she knew she was slipping and couldn't stop herself. That look kept me awake long after the party ended. And if I was being honest, I didn't want to fight it. I wanted her eyes on me again. I wanted her lips open for me, not in shock, but in surrender. I wanted her voice, soft and low, saying my name. Not his. Was it wrong? Of course. Did that matter? No. Because the truth was already carved into me, Paul's wife was definitely my obsession now. And the question wasn't if I'd touch her again. It was only when.