Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 177 You’re such an odd girl,

Victoria’s POV

I returned to my bedroom with a thousand thoughts swirling through my mind, preparing for sleep. After completing my bedtime routine, I found myself staring at the ceiling while my wolf Nora paced restlessly in my head.

Mother had loved father deeply.

Even in that terrible accident, she must never have regretted being by his side. Though I was young then, I still remembered her holding me tight, shielding me with her own body. That memory sent a dull ache through my chest.

They’d been truly happy together. Countless photographs documented their love—family portraits, candid moments, all testament to their extraordinary bond.

Sometimes, it seemed, our emotions truly were beyond our control. Despite my fierce denials, whenever Damian Sterling entered a room, my heart would race in ways I couldn’t ignore.

The unmistakable flutter in my chest—the telltale sign of a mate bond forming—was becoming increasingly difficult to dismiss.

My magical bracelet could barely suppress my wolf’s yearning for her destined mate anymore.

But what about grandfather? He was so opposed to my relationship with Damian.

If he knew Damian was my fated mate, he would be devastated.

I ran my fingers through my hair, my inner turmoil consuming me.

That night, sleep eluded me.

My wolf whimpered occasionally, seeming to sense my distress.

In the morning, I descended the stairs with heavy eyelids to find grandfather already settled in his favorite leather armchair, newspaper spread across his lap.

"Good morning," I called out, trying to inject energy into my voice.

"Good morning, Victoria." He looked up, fine lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

I poured myself coffee from the pot he’d already brewed. "Anything interesting in the news today?"

"Nothing particularly noteworthy," he replied while turning the page, "just the usual mundane reports."

I grabbed the remote and turned on the television, flipping through channels until I found a financial news station. When I saw our company logo flash across the screen, I gasped.

"Look! Lancaster Industries is in the news again!" I pointed excitedly at the screen. "Our stock is rising. Wow, Blood Moon Enterprises’ growth rate is simply astounding."

I leaned against the kitchen counter, studying the numbers scrolling across the bottom of the screen. "How does Damian do it? Maybe I should study his business strategies more closely."

I was trying to showcase Damian’s excellence in front of grandfather.

Grandfather snorted dismissively. "There’s nothing special about that. Plenty of people run successful companies. Nothing worth studying."

The program suddenly switched to a recent interview with Damian—his first public appearance since revealing himself as Blood Moon’s CEO. The media had been clamoring to interview him, but he’d only agreed to this one authoritative business outlet.

"They actually got Damian to do an interview," I said, unable to look away.

When Damian appeared on screen, my wolf nature stirred. He lounged casually in the interview chair, radiating an innate leadership quality with every gesture.

His legs were crossed casually, his posture relaxed yet commanding. Even through the television screen, his presence seemed to fill the entire room.

His dark hair was slicked back, revealing the stubble along his jawline that accentuated his sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes.

When he spoke, his deep voice carried steady confidence that resonated throughout the room, showing no trace of nervousness. The mature, composed confidence he exuded wasn’t something just anyone could fake.

His responses to the interviewer’s questions were nothing short of masterful—insightful and strategic, demonstrating thinking that was several steps ahead of others.

"I never thought of using that management approach before," I admitted, mentally taking notes. "That’s brilliant."

From the corner of my eye, I caught grandfather staring at Damian on screen. Despite his verbal disapproval, there was a glimmer of reluctant admiration in his gaze.

Damian truly was extraordinary from every angle.

Most major corporations today were established decades ago, riding the wave of previous generations’ economic prosperity.

The current business environment was exceptionally competitive, especially for newcomers. Yet Damian had built his commercial empire through sheer determination and exceptional strategic ability, accomplishing what many deemed impossible. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Not only did he possess formidable business acumen, but his pack excelled in other areas too.

Strength, weapons, everything—all exceptionally superior.

However, it was precisely this ruthless efficiency that made him successful in business that also made him dangerous in personal relationships. My grandfather worried I’d be manipulated by someone like him—ultimately getting hurt.

"Grandfather, what did you think of his interview?" I turned to ask him.

I noticed that despite his reluctance, he’d watched the entire interview segment with rapt attention. Though it lasted only a few minutes, the content had clearly made an impression.

Grandfather snorted disdainfully. "How would I know? I wasn’t watching. Turn it off—I can’t stand that man!"

I suppressed a smile. The interview had ended, and he’d been glued to the screen the entire time, yet still pretended indifference.

"Victoria," he said, switching topics, "are you going to the hospital today? I’d like to visit Patrick. Poor boy has been through so much, getting injured while saving you. We should check on him."

"Of course," I nodded.

"I think Patrick is truly remarkable," grandfather continued. "He’s perfect for—"

"Stop!" I held up my hand. "Grandfather, we’ve discussed this. Please don’t try to arrange marriages anymore. Patrick and I aren’t compatible—absolutely impossible. Your friendship with him is between you two—it has nothing to do with me. If you visit him, please don’t drag me into it."

"You’re such an odd girl," grandfather sighed.

Matters of the heart were just so unpredictable.

Two weeks passed, and Patrick’s leg showed no signs of improvement. Grandfather stayed home all day, constantly sighing and feeling guilty about the situation.

He explained that the Wagner family had originally planned to arrange a business marriage for Patrick after he returned home, but now that he couldn’t even stand properly, the woman’s family had reservations—clearly concerned about his physical condition.

This deepened my grandfather’s sense of responsibility. "Patrick sacrificed so much for Victoria," he lamented. "Our entire family owes him a tremendous debt."

"Mr. Lancaster, please," Patrick replied with feigned sincerity, "there’s no debt between us. Aren’t we like family? Even if Victoria and I don’t end up together, I’ll always consider you my grandfather. If I show up at your house uninvited for dinner someday, you wouldn’t refuse me, would you?"

"Such a good boy," grandfather responded, his eyes gleaming with emotion.

I watched all this with cold detachment, realizing how easily Patrick manipulated my grandfather. He knew exactly how to please him—appearing polite, capable, devoted to me, and willing to protect me forever. These qualities perfectly matched grandfather’s expectations for my partner.

For someone like Patrick, winning over grandfather was child’s play.

"Mr. Lancaster," Patrick continued with calculated vulnerability, "if I can never walk again, your family wouldn’t abandon me, would you?"

"Of course not, absolutely not! All this happened because you protected Victoria. I feel terrible about it."

Grandfather’s guilt over Patrick’s condition remained unchanged.

I’d actually been investigating this accident all along.

The driver had committed suicide, leaving us without our primary source of information. I’d been searching tirelessly for clues but found nothing.

Patrick’s leg injury remained a mystery too. Despite consulting countless experts—including traditional wolf healers and modern medical specialists—no one could provide answers. His condition baffled everyone, making me increasingly suspicious about whether he truly couldn’t stand or if there was something else going on.