Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 154 Victoria, don’t trouble yourself
Victoria’s POV
I knew my grandfather’s opinion about Damien Sterling hadn’t improved—if anything, he seemed to despise him even more.
The tension in Grandfather’s voice whenever Damien’s name came up made my wolf, Nora, bristle uncomfortably beneath my skin.
"Grandfather," I said into the phone, my fingers absently tracing the edge of my mahogany desk, "Patrick Wagner can’t keep staying at your estate forever. Kane has already selected several properties for him to consider. I’ll have the files brought over, and Patrick can choose one he likes."
To my surprise, a deep voice suddenly cut through the room behind me.
"Victoria, don’t trouble yourself. I’ve already found a place that suits me. The paperwork will be complete soon, and I’ll be moving out of pack house shortly. I know I’ve been imposing on both of you."
My spine stiffened as I turned to find Patrick standing in my office doorway, his tall frame filling the space with an effortless dominance that made Nora growl softly within me. The sweet scent of his wolf teased my senses—not as intoxicating as Damien’s smoky cedar, but pleasant nonetheless.
A strange wave of guilt pricked at me, as if I’d been caught trying to evict him. "If you’ll be living alone, just take care of yourself," I replied politely, keeping my tone neutral.
Patrick’s lips curved into that calculated smile that always made me wary. "Are you concerned about me, Victoria?"
I rolled my eyes. "It’s merely common courtesy I’d extend to anyone. Don’t read too much into it."
"I understand I’ve been an inconvenience," he said, stepping closer. His wolf’s scent grew stronger. "But we’re still friends, aren’t we?"
"Of course," I answered automatically, though Nora paced restlessly inside me.
"Good." His smile deepened, revealing perfect white teeth. Too perfect. My wolf sensed the subtle shift, a predatory edge hidden beneath the charm.
After ending the call with Grandfather, I exhaled deeply, feeling a profound relief wash over me. Patrick was finally moving out. The intensity of that relief was almost embarrassing.
Even Kane noticed the shift in my mood when he entered with the day’s reports. His keen eyes—always observant as my most trusted pack member—narrowed slightly.
"Something’s different, Victoria. You seem... lighter today," he remarked, setting the files on my desk with precision.
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nothing’s changed. Isn’t my mood always consistent?"
Kane shook his head, his loyalty evident in his concerned gaze. "Not lately. The last few days, your wolf has been agitated—we could all sense it. Your scent carried notes of distress."
"Really?" I hadn’t realized my emotions were so transparent to other wolves. This was concerning—an Alpha should better control her presence. A breach in my emotional defenses.
"Absolutely. But happiness suits you better," Kane added with rare warmth.
With my spirits lifted, I tore through the day’s work with renewed vigor, my pen flying across contracts and my mind sharp during conference calls. By late afternoon, my schedule had cleared enough to message Grace.
"Dinner tonight?" I texted her.
Her reply came instantly: "Count me in, Victoria! Just name the place!"
We agreed to meet at the upscale Crescent Moon restaurant in the Westfield Mall—a convenient spot that would allow us to shop afterward. Grace had been buried in work at her design studio lately, hardly having time for a social life. If I hadn’t reached out, she’d likely have spent another night surrounded by fabric swatches and sketches.
As we settled into our booth, the waitress brought our drinks—sparkling water with lime for me, a glass of merlot for Grace. The restaurant hummed with the quiet conversations of human patrons, completely unaware they were dining alongside supernatural beings.
Grace took a sip of her wine, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, is Patrick still camping out at your grandfather’s place?"
I shook my head, the mere mention of his departure lightening my mood again. "No, he’s bought his own place. He’ll be moving out this week."
"And you don’t find it strange how he’s been circling you?" Grace arched an eyebrow, her wolf-sharp intuition cutting through pretenses as always. "The man practically radiates interest. His wolf practically howls whenever you’re mentioned."
Though Grace had put it vaguely, I understood her perfectly. Nora bristled inside me at the thought.
"He hasn’t said anything directly," I admitted, swirling my water glass. "And I prefer to keep it that way."
Grace snorted, her wolf’s feisty nature showing through. "Does he need to spell it out? Why else would he have latched onto your family like a tick? The man’s intentions are as obvious as a wolf in sheep’s clothing—literally."
I sighed. "What am I supposed to do? Confront him about feelings he hasn’t expressed? Besides, he’s moving out now. Problem solved."
Grace tapped her manicured nails against the table, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What if moving out is just another strategy to get closer? Do you even know where he’s going?"
"No idea," I admitted. "I didn’t ask."
"For all you know, he could be moving into your building," she suggested, only half-joking.
"Impossible!" I protested, though a shiver of unease ran down my spine at the thought. Surely fate wouldn’t be that cruel.
"Nothing’s impossible when a wolf has caught a scent he wants to follow," Grace countered. She paused, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "So between Patrick and Damien Sterling... which one would you choose?"
I nearly choked on my water. "Choose? Are you serious?"
Instead of answering her ridiculous question, I speared a piece of salmon with my fork and offered it to her plate. "Enough matchmaking. Eat your dinner before it gets cold."
We continued our meal in comfortable conversation until Grace suddenly tensed, her gaze fixed on something through the window. "Victoria, isn’t that Scarlett Sutton over there?"
Following her line of sight, I spotted two figures across the street. A woman was nestled against a man’s arm, his hand possessively circling her waist. They moved with the intimate synchronicity of lovers, her face tilted up to his with adoration. Even from this distance, I recognized Scarlett’s distinctive profile and honeyed hair.
"Well, well," I murmured. "Looks like the newly divorced Mrs. Sterling didn’t waste any time."
Scarlett had finalized her divorce from Ethan just weeks ago, but apparently, she’d already found his replacement. Then again, the Sutton family had connections throughout the werewolf community. As the daughter of Northstream Pack’s beta, she could have her pick of eligible wolves.
"She certainly didn’t mourn the end of her marriage for long," Grace remarked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I wonder what Ethan thinks about this from his prison cell. He probably believed she was pining away for him."
I shrugged, turning away from the window. "As long as they both stay out of my life, they can do whatever they want."
"And here I thought those two toxic wolves were mated for life," Grace sighed dramatically. "What a disappointment."
"Let’s not waste any more time on them," I said firmly. I had no interest in other people’s drama—I’d had enough of my own.
