MY BROTHER'S WIFE

CHAPTER FIVE

LIAM'S POV

Returning home should have been something I looked forward to after spending weeks away on business, yet it was the one place I wished I could avoid. If I had been given the choice, I would have accepted another overseas project without thinking twice, no matter how exhausting it was, because work had always been the easiest excuse to stay away from everything waiting for me back home. Unfortunately, my father had made it very clear over the phone that my business trip had gone on long enough and that it was time for me to return. He rarely insisted on anything unless it truly mattered, so refusing him had never been an option. Still, the closer my flight brought me to home, the heavier the feeling in my chest became, and for the first time in years, I found myself wishing the journey would never end.

The reason was simple.

Sophia.

Just the thought of seeing her again was enough to unsettle me in a way I couldn't explain. It wasn't because I loved her... at least that was what I kept telling myself. It was nothing more than an attraction, one I had no business entertaining because she now belonged to someone else. She was Ethan's wife. My younger brother's wife. That single fact should have been enough to erase every unnecessary thought from my mind, yet it never seemed to be.

Ironically, none of this would have happened if I had simply agreed to my parents' proposal in the first place.

Months ago, my parents had approached me with what they believed was the perfect arrangement. They wanted me to marry one of the daughters from the Travis family to strengthen the relationship between our families and secure the future of both business empires. I didn't even allow them to finish explaining before refusing. My answer had been the same as it had always been whenever the subject of marriage came up.

No.

Not because I hated marriage.

Not because I disliked the Travis family.

And certainly not because I thought I was too good for an arranged marriage.

I simply couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with someone who only saw my surname before they saw me.

Being the heir to the Maxwell empire came with privileges most people dreamed of, but it also came with a loneliness very few understood. I had lost count of the number of women who suddenly found me interesting the moment they discovered who I was. Some admired the wealth. Others admired the status. A few admired the influence my family carried in the business world. But admiration wasn't the same as love, and after years of watching people smile for reasons that had nothing to do with me, I stopped believing it was easy to tell the difference between genuine affection and carefully disguised ambition.

If I were ever to get married, I wanted it to happen because a woman loved Liam... not the Maxwell name, not the family fortune, and certainly not the future CEO everyone expected me to become.

I wanted someone I could laugh with after a long day. Someone who would tell me when I was wrong instead of agreeing with everything I said simply because I was rich. Someone who would wait for me to come home, not because of the mansion we lived in, but because she genuinely wanted me there. Someone who would stand beside me through success and failure alike, and if the day ever came when I was no longer around, I wanted to leave this world knowing the family we built together had been founded on love rather than obligation.

Maybe I had been asking for too much.

Or maybe I had simply convinced myself that a love like that only existed in stories.

After I turned down the proposal, my parents respected my decision, even though I knew they weren't happy about it. They didn't argue with me or try to force me to change my mind. Instead, they approached Ethan with the same proposal, and unlike me, he accepted almost immediately. That was my younger brother for you. Ethan had always believed there was goodness in people, and unlike me, he never overcomplicated things. While I spent my life questioning everyone's intentions, he chose to trust first and worry later. Sometimes I admired that about him. Other times, I thought he was far too kind for a world that rarely rewarded kindness. Still, I often wondered what it would feel like to see the world through his eyes instead of mine. Perhaps life would have been much simpler if I possessed even half the faith he had in people.

When the day finally came for Ethan to meet his future bride, our parents insisted that I accompany him. At first, I had no intention of going. As far as I was concerned, it had nothing to do with me anymore. I had made my choice, Ethan had made his, and the matter should have ended there. But after enough persuasion, I reluctantly agreed, believing it would simply be a formal meeting between two families before returning to work. Looking back now, I sometimes wish I had stayed in my office that day, because walking through the doors of the Travis residence became one of the few moments in my life that I could never stop replaying in my mind.

Then I saw her.

Everything around me seemed to disappear for the briefest moment.

She wasn't the loudest person in the room. She wasn't trying to draw anyone's attention, nor did she carry herself with the confidence I had expected from the daughter of a wealthy family. Instead, she stood quietly beside her family with her hands folded neatly in front of her, her head slightly lowered, as though she wished she could disappear into the background. There was a softness about her that immediately caught my attention, but it wasn't her beauty that held my gaze, even though she was undeniably beautiful. It was the sadness in her eyes. It didn't belong there. Not on the face of a woman who was supposed to be celebrating her engagement.

For reasons I couldn't explain, I found myself watching her more than I should have.

I had met countless beautiful women throughout my life. Some had openly flirted with me, others had done everything they could to capture my attention, but none of them had ever managed to leave an impression that lasted beyond the conversation we shared. Sophia was different. She wasn't trying to impress anyone. In fact, it almost seemed as though she wanted everyone to forget she was there. Yet somehow, she was the only person in that room I couldn't stop noticing.

It made no sense.

I barely knew her name.

We hadn't exchanged more than a few polite words.

And yet, a feeling I couldn't describe settled somewhere deep inside me, refusing to leave no matter how many times I reminded myself that she was standing there because she was about to become my younger brother's fiancée.

For the first time since rejecting the arranged marriage, I felt something dangerously close to regret.

Not because I suddenly wanted an arranged marriage.

Not because I had changed my views overnight.

But because, for reasons I couldn't understand, I couldn't help wondering what might have happened if I had simply said yes.

The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come.

It had to.

The decision had already been made.

Ethan had accepted the arrangement.

Sophia was going to become his wife.

And from that moment onward, she would be my sister-in-law.

That was a line I could never allow myself to cross, no matter what I felt... or what I refused to admit that I felt.

By the time I arrived at Maxwell Corporation, most of the employees should have been buried in their work. Instead, the moment I stepped onto the executive floor, I was greeted by something I hadn't expected.

Laughter.

Not the occasional laugh that naturally escaped during a long workday, but loud, carefree laughter that echoed through the open office as though everyone had forgotten where they were. Small groups of employees stood around chatting instead of working. A few had abandoned their desks altogether, while others leaned back comfortably in their chairs with their feet resting on the desks, completely unconcerned with the mountain of unfinished files scattered in front of them. Some didn't even notice I had arrived.

For several long seconds, I simply stood there.

Watching.

Observing.

Saying absolutely nothing.

So this was what happened whenever I wasn't around.

I had trusted Scott to keep the company running while I attended meetings overseas, believing he would maintain the same standards I expected from everyone under my leadership. Clearly, I had expected too much. Whether this carelessness had only started after I left or whether it had become an everyday routine, I couldn't tell. Either possibility was unacceptable.

A company wasn't built on comfort.

It was built on discipline.

I didn't ask my employees to sacrifice their lives for this company. I wasn't unreasonable. People laughed. People took breaks. People made mistakes. I understood all of that. Many of them had families depending on the salaries they earned here, and I had always believed that providing someone with stable employment meant giving them an opportunity to build a better future. But there was a difference between taking a moment to breathe and completely forgetting why you had been hired in the first place.

Slowly, I continued walking further into the office.

The sound of my footsteps echoed across the polished floor.

One by one, conversations died.

The laughter faded.

Someone looked up.

Then another.

Within seconds, every pair of eyes in the room had found me.

The silence that followed was almost amusing.

Several employees immediately straightened in their seats, hurriedly removing their feet from the desks. Others scrambled to gather scattered files, while one unfortunate man stood up so quickly that his chair rolled backwards, forcing him to catch himself before he fell. The confidence that had filled the office only moments ago disappeared so completely that it was difficult to believe these were the same people.

Good.

Without saying a word, I slowly looked around the room, meeting each frightened gaze one after another.

No one dared look away.

"It seems," I finally said, my voice calm enough to make the silence feel even heavier, "that everyone has been enjoying themselves."

Nobody answered.

"I apologise for interrupting."

Still...

Nothing.

"If you're all finished socialising, I expect every incomplete file currently sitting on your desks to be in my office within the next fifteen minutes."

I adjusted the cuff of my sleeve before continuing.

"And if any one of you believes this company is a place to gossip instead of work..."

I let the sentence hang for a moment.

"...you're welcome to find employment somewhere else."

The room remained completely silent.

No one moved.

No one even seemed willing to breathe.

Then, from somewhere near the back of the office, a trembling voice finally broke the silence.

"G-G-Good morning, Sir... L-Liam."

I slowly turned my head toward the young employee.

He looked as though he regretted speaking the very second the words left his mouth.

I studied him for a brief moment before answering.

"I don't believe there's anything particularly good about this morning."

The colour immediately drained from his face.

"In fact..." I continued evenly, "...'bad morning' would be far more appropriate."

Not another word was spoken.

Everyone immediately rushed back to their desks, and within seconds, the office that had resembled a social gathering moments earlier became exactly what it was supposed to be.

A workplace.

"How can I do that, sir?" he asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're our boss."

A humourless smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"So..." I said quietly, taking another slow step toward him, "you do remember that."

The young man lowered his head immediately.

"For a moment there, I was beginning to think you'd all forgotten."

My eyes swept across the office once more, taking in the hastily organised desks, the unfinished files, and the guilty faces that refused to meet my gaze. Only minutes earlier, this place had sounded more like a café than the headquarters of one of the country's most successful companies. Now, it was so quiet that even the soft hum of the air-conditioning seemed unusually loud.

"Tell me," I continued calmly, "when exactly did this office become a place for gossip instead of work? When did conversations become more important than the responsibilities you're being paid to fulfil?"

Nobody answered.

Nobody dared.

The silence was answer enough.

"I don't expect perfection from any of you," I said, my voice remaining steady. "You're human. You get tired. You make mistakes. You deserve breaks just as much as anyone else. But there is a difference between taking a moment to breathe and completely forgetting why you're here."

I paused, allowing every word to settle before continuing.

"This company wasn't built overnight. It wasn't handed to me, and it certainly wasn't built through idle conversations and empty laughter. Every contract signed, every client retained, and every opportunity this company has created came through discipline, sacrifice, and hard work. The salaries you receive each month exist because people before you understood that success demands consistency, not comfort."

Several employees lowered their heads even further.

"I hired each of you because I believed you were capable of helping this company grow while also building better lives for yourselves and your families. Employment is built on trust. I trust you to do your jobs, and in return, you trust me to provide stability, fairness, and opportunities to succeed. The moment either side stops honouring that trust, the foundation begins to crack."

I looked around the room one final time.

"Don't mistake my patience for weakness."

No one moved.

"No one in this company is irreplaceable."

The words were spoken without anger.

Without shouting.

Without raising my voice.

Yet the weight behind them settled over the office like a storm.

"If I ever walk into this office and find it looking like this again..." I let the silence finish the sentence for me before speaking once more. "You won't receive another warning."

I didn't wait for a response.

There was nothing left to say.

The lesson had already been understood.

Turning on my heel, I walked toward my office, and before I had even reached the door, the sound of keyboards clicking, phones ringing, and files being opened filled the floor once again.

Exactly as it should have been from the beginning.