Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 75 No way

Catherine ’s pov::

As I strode through the executive floor of ME Industries, everyone scattered like frightened deer. The tension was palpable。

"Don’t go near the CEO’s office today," a junior executive whispered as I passed. "Boss is tearing apart everyone who walks through that door."

ME is a highly inclusive company that employs both werewolves and ordinary humans.

To make sure the work goes smoothly, humans don’t know who we are. Take this junior supervisor, for example.

I merely smirked, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

I’m different from them.

I, Catherine Watson, was the company’s Vice President and had just secured a contract that would strengthen our pack’s position immeasurably.

"Do I look like one of you?" I asked coolly. "I just signed the deal with the North Pine Pack. Damien will be thanking me, not berating me."

I could barely contain my smile as I clutched the folder with Peter Morrison’s signature. This alliance would strengthen both our territories against the rogue packs expanding from the north. The Blood Moon Pack needed this—Damien needed this—and I had delivered.

Several employees lingered in the hallway, their eyes following me with a mixture of concern and morbid curiosity.

"She’s the VP though," one whispered. "Sterling treats her differently."

"Want to bet?" another challenged. "Twenty says he chews her out just like everyone else."

"No way," a third joined in. "She’s a female executive. He must have some respect for gender at least."

The last one snorted. "Sterling doesn’t see gender—he sees everyone as equally disposable. Men, women, we’re all just workhorses in his eyes."

I ignored their childish wagers. My wolf, Sierra, paced confidently within me. For years, I had served as Beta to the Blood Moon Pack’s operations in this region. I’d proven my worth to Damien countless times, and my devotion to him was unwavering, even if he hadn’t yet recognized me as a potential mate.

Without bothering to wait for permission after knocking, I pushed open his door with the confidence of someone who belonged in the inner circle.

"Damien, I’ve got—"

"GET OUT!" The Alpha’s roar hit me like a physical blow, so powerful my wolf instinctively cowered.

I froze, the smile dying on my face as my skin went cold. This wasn’t the reception I had expected.

"Damien, I’m here to report that the contract with Peter’s pack is signed," I continued, forcing strength into my voice. "I’ve been working tirelessly on this deal. I’ve barely slept for days, spent countless hours entertaining Peter over drinks. My stomach is even acting up from all the alcohol I consumed to keep him happy."

I was laying it on thick, hoping to elicit some sympathy, some recognition of my sacrifice for the pack. I had messaged him about some of these details before, but he hadn’t acknowledged them. Now, face to face, I hoped he would see my dedication—perhaps even feel something more.

Instead, Damien’s eyes flashed with a dangerous amber glow, his wolf Arthur clearly close to the surface.

"We do NOT embrace drinking culture to secure contracts," he snarled, each word sharp enough to cut. "You’re a Vice President of this company—are you completely unaware of our policies? No member of Blood Moon Pack should be sacrificing their health or dignity for a business deal."

His voice rose with each word, powerful enough that I was certain everyone outside could hear. My wolf whimpered in submission to the Alpha’s displeasure.

"Have I not made it clear that ME Industries never begs for partnerships?" he continued, standing now, his imposing frame towering over his desk. "We don’t place ourselves in positions of inferiority. It cheapens not just you but our entire pack. Every negotiation is an exchange between equals—not an opportunity for our people to grovel. How can you not understand this fundamental principle?"

I heard hurried footsteps outside as the eavesdroppers scattered, no doubt gleeful that their predictions had come true.

"Damien, I..." my voice faltered, a rare occurrence for me. "I was only trying to serve the pack’s interests. This alliance wasn’t easy to secure."

"And who said any of this should be easy?" His voice dropped to a dangerous, icy tone that was somehow more frightening than his shouting. "Do you think any significant accomplishment in this company came without effort? The point isn’t to show them we’re desperate—it’s to make them understand they need us more than we need them."

Arthur’s influence was clear in his posture—the protective Alpha defending the dignity of his pack members, even from their own misguided attempts at service.

"I’m sorry," I said softly, lowering my eyes in the traditional gesture of submission to an Alpha’s authority.

"You have nothing to apologize to me for," he said, his voice marginally softer. "But I will not have you teaching our younger pack members that self-destruction is a path to advancement. Your health matters. A pack member with stomach bleeding from alcohol isn’t serving the pack—they’re weakening it."

I bit my lip, stinging from the rejection more than the reprimand. "I understand. I’ll leave you now."

As I retreated from his office, frustration burned through me. I had delivered a significant victory—the very alliance with Peter Morrison’s North Pine Pack that would strengthen our position against the rogues. Yet Damien had barely acknowledged it.

And then there was Victoria Lancaster. I’d heard she had shown interest in the same deal, but had apparently backed off. Did she somehow know she couldn’t compete with me? Or was there another reason?

The thought of the Crescent Dawn Pack’s heir suddenly irritated me beyond reason. Sierra growled within me, always competitive with the wolves from rival packs. Victoria might be just a secretary at ME Industries on paper, but I knew her true identity—and the rumors about her rare white wolf. What made her so special that even Damien seemed distracted since her arrival?

Making a quick decision, I had my assistant locate Victoria. Apparently, she was at the hospital—a family member was ill. Perfect opportunity to remind her who was really in charge at ME Industries.

I made my way to the hospital, Sierra urging me forward, eager to establish dominance over this rival female who had captured too much of our Alpha’s attention. Finding her at the nurses’ station, I approached with deliberate clicks of my heels against the linoleum.

"Well, if it isn’t Secretary Lancaster," I called out, injecting false warmth into my voice. "What a coincidence meeting you here. Not feeling well yourself?"

Victoria’s POV::

I didn’t expect to encounter Catherine Watson at the hospital. Our previous interactions had been tense at best, with her showing clear animosity toward me. Her presence here couldn’t be coincidental.

"Just visiting family in the hospital," I replied coolly, keeping my expression neutral despite Nora’s instinctive growl within me.

Catherine’s lips curved into what I could only describe as a predatory smile. "What a coincidence. I’m here visiting someone too. And since we’ve run into each other, I thought you’d like to know—I’ve secured the contract with Peter Morrison. He’s officially partnering with Blood Moon Pack now." Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Your Crescent Dawn Pack might as well stop trying."

"Congratulations," I said flatly, having no intention of prolonging this conversation.

The research technology project was Damien’s concern now. Whether to block the partnership or continue with it was his decision to make. I’d already discussed this with him, and I trusted his judgment, even if Catherine didn’t know about our connection.

I turned to head back to Grandfather’s room, but Catherine stepped into my path, her scent sharpening with aggression. My wolf bristled at the challenge.

"What’s the rush, Miss Lancaster?" she taunted, her voice dripping with condescension. "Let’s chat a bit longer. It’s fascinating how someone with so little actual skill managed to secure a position at Lancaster Enterprises. Whatever techniques you’re using clearly work—they got you into the company and even earned you special attention from Mr. Sterling."

I remained silent, watching her with the steady gaze of an Alpha assessing a subordinate who had forgotten their place.

"But Peter Morrison isn’t susceptible to your particular... charms," she continued, oblivious to the dangerous shift in my posture. "You may have wormed your way into Lancaster Enterprises, but what good is that when you can’t secure a single project? Without results, they’ll eventually toss you aside."

She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "And Mr. Sterling? He might be momentarily distracted by a pretty face, but he’ll eventually see you for what you are. Surely you don’t believe you’re anything special to him?"

I met her gaze steadily, neither flinching nor reacting as she expected. My calm demeanor clearly wasn’t the response she had anticipated. Instead of showing hurt or anger, I looked at her with the detached amusement one might reserve for watching a puppy trying to intimidate a full-grown wolf.

"You’re quite brave to sign that particular contract," I finally said, my voice soft but carrying the unmistakable weight of someone who knew something she didn’t. "I just hope you won’t come to regret it. Remember this smug expression you’re wearing now. It might be hard to recall when you’re trying to figure out how to explain your failure."

Catherine’s eyes narrowed. "Your jealous curses mean nothing. Perhaps you should examine your own envious face?"