Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 121 I promise

After our heart-to-heart, William shook his head, still simmering with rage.

"That bastard Lawrence Sterling had the balls to show up at my door," he snarled, Alpha authority rolling off him in waves. "Said he came to grovel for his son’s behavior, begging me to forgive Ethan. I threw his ass out. What nerve! Forgiveness? That piece of shit should be rotting in a cell!"

Nora bristled in my chest, feeding off his fury. His weathered face burned crimson with indignation, and I knew exactly why. Ethan hadn’t just stolen five years of my life—he’d tried to destroy me in a way that could’ve left permanent scars. If he’d succeeded, I might’ve spent forever living in that nightmare.

"The Sterlings have always been arrogant pricks, but this time they’ve crossed every line," William continued, his fists clenched. "Victoria, I’ll never forgive what that animal tried to do to you. Never."

I rubbed his tense shoulders, feeling the knots of stress under my palms. "Don’t waste your energy getting worked up over trash like that. He’s not worth it. I won’t forgive him either." I pressed a kiss to his cheek. "If any Sterling scum comes sniffing around again, just slam the door in their faces, okay? Promise me."

"Deal," he agreed, his voice finally cooling down. "I promise."

The next couple days, I hung around the estate with William, soaking up the comfort of my childhood pack home. But reality came knocking eventually. Lancaster Enterprises was blowing up my phone, and I had to get back to my place in the city.

My Aspen suitcase had been sitting untouched since I got back. Now I just grabbed it, tossed in some extra stuff, and headed to my penthouse. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Once I got home, I finally cracked open the suitcase to sort through everything. That’s when I spotted them—three expensive men’s coats folded neatly at the bottom. Damian’s coats.

As I ran my fingers over the luxury fabric, Nora stirred restlessly, memories crashing over me like a tidal wave. The first one I’d snatched when I bolted from his hotel room after the pool incident, wearing nothing but a bikini. The second he’d draped over my shoulders on the beach, worried I’d catch cold. The third—the one he’d given me after Ethan shredded my clothes, wrapping me in protection and dignity when I felt most broken.

I’d meant to return them but kept putting it off. Perfect excuse to see him again. I pulled out my phone and, after hesitating for a beat, typed: "You home tonight?"

It was mid-afternoon, and Damian was probably neck-deep in Blood Moon pack business. No idea if he’d be free.

His reply came back lightning-fast: "Why? You asking me out?"

I grinned at his cocky tone. "Maybe. The big bad Alpha got time for little old me?"

"Your place or mine?" he shot back.

I thought for a second. "Mine."

"Done."

Around seven, my doorbell rang.

Him.

I yanked the door open, couldn’t hide my surprise. "You actually left work early?"

"You’re cooking?" His eyebrows shot up in genuine shock.

I nodded, wiping my hands on my apron. "Yeah. You eat yet?"

I’d planned this whole dinner as a proper thank-you for saving my ass from Ethan. Had gone completely overboard, slaving away in the kitchen for hours, though I hadn’t mentioned the feast when I invited him. Now I panicked that he might’ve already eaten.

"Nope," he said simply.

"Perfect. Come on in—don’t worry about your shoes. I’ve got something on the stove. Make yourself at home, food’ll be ready in a few."

As I rushed back to the kitchen, I felt him trailing behind me. When I glanced back, there he was, leaning against my doorframe, watching me with those predatory eyes.

I had my hair thrown up in a messy bun, apron tied around my waist, moving around my kitchen like I owned it. Something in his expression shifted—actually softened—as he took in the sight.

The whole scene felt weirdly domestic, like we were playing house: husband coming home from work, wife cooking dinner, waiting for him to walk through the door. The thought sent heat shooting up my neck.

I was almost done, just one last dish to finish. When I turned around again, Damian was still posted up, looking criminally good in his tailored suit. Even lounging against my doorframe, his height was intimidating, long legs crossed at the ankles.

The overhead light carved shadows across his sharp features, giving him an almost dangerous beauty that made my breath catch. Those steel-gray eyes locked on mine, and Nora practically purred in my chest.

After staring maybe a beat too long, I snapped out of it. "Why’re you just standing there? The smoke bothering you?"

I figured someone like Damian Sterling—Blood Moon Pack Alpha and corporate shark—probably didn’t spend much time in kitchens.

"Making sure you’re not trying to poison me," he said with that smirk. "Gotta watch the chef."

"If I wanted you dead, you’d be six feet under before you knew what hit you," I shot back with a grin.

His lips curved into that devastating smile that transformed his whole face from cold and intimidating to dangerously charming. God, this man was illegally beautiful—all sharp edges and authority when serious, but absolutely lethal when he smiled.

"Go park yourself in the dining room," I waved him away. "I’ll be right out."

He actually listened, though technically he’d never stepped foot in my kitchen anyway.

A few minutes later, I carried out the final dish. I’d gone completely nuts—despite it being just the two of us, my table looked like Thanksgiving. Fresh lobster flown in that morning, several comfort food dishes I’d made from scratch, and soup that’d been simmering for hours.

Damian stared at the spread like it might bite him.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, catching his expression. "Dig in!"

"Why the five-star treatment?" He squinted at me suspiciously. "Either you screwed up big time, or you want something major from me."