Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 165 What’s gotten into all of you?

Author’s POV

"What’s gotten into all of you?" Marcia Cross shrieked, a flicker of raw fury in her eyes. "This little brat clearly slammed into us! Are you blind, or just deaf?!"

The silence that met her outburst, rather than support, only intensified her fury. Her inner wolf, typically subdued in public, now thrashed restlessly beneath her skin, mirroring her escalating agitation.

"Is she truly his daughter-in-law, or merely a mistress?" a hushed voice rippled through the onlookers.

"That’s right," another voice chimed in, dripping with disdain. "You carved your way into that family by tearing another apart, didn’t you? And that little pup in your belly, what suitable name shall we bestow upon it?"

These cutting remarks pierced Marcia deeply, striking at her most profound insecurities. For Mona, however, they held no sting. She had always been singularly focused on marrying into a powerful werewolf family. In fact, she saw it as nothing more than an opportune moment to exploit.

Eventually, security personnel intervened, escorting Marcia and Mona out of the building with a brisk firmness that bordered on pushing them through the automatic doors.

"Thank you, Miss," the little girl said politely, her voice barely a whisper, her small face still flushed and beginning to swell where she’d been struck.

Victoria knelt down, bringing herself to the child’s eye level, her wolf Nora stirring with an instinctive urge to comfort the frightened little pup. "Where are your parents? Why are you here alone?" She carefully examined the child’s cheek. "Wait here for me for a moment. I’ll go get you some ointment to reduce the swelling."

"My mom is sick," the little girl explained, her voice remarkably steady for her age. "I came to fetch her test results."

Victoria smiled gently. "Then I’ll take you to her."

"Thank you!" the child said with a grateful smile.

Victoria took the girl’s small hand, a surge of protective instinct rising within her, surprising even herself with its intensity. Her wolf, Nora, was unusually alert, as if sensing something profoundly special about this child.

When they reached the hospital room, the girl’s mother was frantic, her eyes darting anxiously around. As they appeared, the mother burst into tears of overwhelming relief, pulling the child into a fierce, tight hug.

"Mommy, don’t cry," the little girl comforted, patting her mother’s back. "Don’t cry!"

"Sweetie, what happened to your face?" the mother asked, gently touching the child’s reddened skin.

The considerate child shook her head. "It’s nothing, Mom. I just accidentally bumped into a pole."

Victoria witnessed this touching scene, a wave of warmth washing over her.

The mother noticed Victoria and approached her to talk. She explained that due to family pressure, she had been forced to marry a man she didn’t love. During her pregnancy, he had been kind, but after she gave birth to a daughter instead of the son he desired, his attitude had drastically changed.

"He wasn’t a good partner," the woman confided. "I fought hard for a divorce, but my parents didn’t support me. They threatened to disown me. In the end, I fled to this city with my daughter. Raising her alone hasn’t been easy." She sighed, her gaze hollow. "But it’s better to be alone than to be with someone who makes you miserable."

The woman’s words deeply resonated with Victoria. Despite societal progress, many older wolves still clung to outdated notions that marriage and children were the sole guarantee for a she-wolf’s future. But as this woman’s experience showed, the pain of choosing the wrong mate could far outweigh the loneliness of growing old alone.

"You’re truly fortunate to have such a thoughtful daughter," Victoria said gently. "Things will get better for both of you."

The woman nodded gratefully, thanking Victoria again for her kindness.

Victoria finished processing her grandfather’s discharge papers, then took William Lancaster back to their estate on the outskirts of the city.

Meanwhile, Marcia was seething. Back at the Sterling residence, Mona put on a tearful performance, sobbing inconsolably. "Mrs. Cross, I can’t bear for my child to be treated so cruelly, labeled as illegitimate before even entering this world. Perhaps I should leave the Sterling family and raise this child on my own."

The thought of potentially losing her only grandchild sent a wave of panic through Marcia, and she clutched Mona’s hand tightly. "Mona, dear, don’t listen to that nonsense. You are now a part of the North Creek Pack, and that child is my grandchild—not an illegitimate one."

"I know you care about me," Mona sobbed, gently wiping away tears, "but the truth is our situation... isn’t legitimate. My status isn’t officially recognized, and my poor child will suffer because of it. It breaks my heart."

Marcia’s face hardened with determination. "Listen, once you give birth to my grandchild, you will absolutely become a member of the Sterling family. I promise you."

Mona clearly heard the conditional promise—she had to wait until after the child was born. But that would be too late, especially since the child wasn’t even Ethan’s. She had to accelerate her plans.

At her earliest opportunity, Mona visited Ethan in prison and exaggerated the events. She described how she had been humiliated and how their unborn child had been cruelly mocked.

"I love Ethan, and I don’t mind suffering myself," she said, her voice choked with emotion, "but our child... I can’t bear for people to call our child illegitimate, a half-breed, a disgrace. I can’t stand by and let that happen. How can our unborn child suffer such cruel treatment?"

Mona exaggerated these insults, most of which she had fabricated. But her performance achieved its desired effect perfectly.

Being called illegitimate had always been Ethan’s deepest wound. He slammed his fist onto the visitation room table, his wolf, Leon, letting out a low growl. "My child will never be called illegitimate!"

Mona leaned forward earnestly. "But Ethan, our relationship isn’t officially recognized. I’m not thinking of myself—I’m thinking of our child. I don’t want our child to carry such a stigma from birth. Please, marry me. If you don’t love me after the baby is born, we can get a divorce. But please, for our child’s sake, have mercy on us."

Ethan nodded, his anger slowly dissipating. "Don’t worry. If this child is mine, I promise I’ll marry you." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You’re about ten weeks pregnant now, right? Can we do a paternity test?"

Mona’s expression instantly froze, a flicker of panic in her eyes.

"Of course," she finally managed.

"Good," Ethan replied, "I’ll have my father arrange it right away."

Mona could only nod. "Alright..." Her mind was a whirlwind. She had no idea how to falsify a DNA test result. If they actually went through with it, her deception would surely be exposed.

Meanwhile, a private investigation report was delivered to Damian Sterling’s office in his downtown penthouse. Jeff Parker approached Damian’s desk, his demeanor professional yet familiar, indicating their long-standing working relationship. "Sir, your suspicions were correct. The child is not Ethan’s. In the days following Ethan’s arrest, Mona secretly met with several men. She became pregnant during that period. She herself might not even know who the biological father of the child is."

Jeff continued, his voice dropping slightly. "Furthermore, Lawrence Sterling is also investigating this matter. He has considerable resources at his disposal. While it will take some effort, he will eventually uncover the truth. Should we let him find out, sir?"

"Absolutely not," Damian said, his eyes glinting with cunning. His wolf, Arthur, let out a low growl, seemingly pleased with the excellent opportunity before them. "In that case, let’s give Mona a hand. Lawrence will likely take her for a paternity test soon. When that happens, you’ll work behind the scenes to ensure the results show the child is Ethan’s. That way, the coming drama will be even more... entertaining."

A smirk played on his lips as he continued, "Also, send a message to Mona. Let her know someone is helping her, but also make it clear that we have leverage over her. She might be useful later."

Damian gazed out of his office’s floor-to-ceiling windows at the city below, his eyes reflecting the meticulously crafted plan he had for the North Creek Pack. The Sterling family wouldn’t crumble in an instant—that would be too kind. No, he wanted to watch them fall, piece by agonizing piece.