Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 149 I’ll visit again soon

Victoria’s POV

I dragged myself home after dinner with Grandpa William, despite his insistence I stay the night. As much as I adored him, I needed my own space tonight—too many thoughts were swimming through my head.

"I should get back to my own place, Grandpa. I’ll visit again soon," I promised, giving him a warm hug before leaving.

He tried several more times to convince me, but I held firm. The drive back to my house was quiet, giving me too much time to think about everything that had happened today. When I finally pulled into my driveway, the silence of my empty home felt oppressive.

After pacing around my living room for a few minutes, I made a decision. I needed to talk to Damien. After our confrontation this morning, things had been left unresolved, and the tension between us was driving me crazy. It felt like a live wire, humming, threatening to snap.

I headed upstairs to his penthouse apartment and knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times—no answer. The hallway remained silent. I checked my watch—9:30 PM. Where could he be? He’d left early this morning; surely he wasn’t still at work?

My wolf, Nora, stirred restlessly within me. Something’s wrong, she seemed to say. A low growl rumbled in her chest.

I pulled out my phone and called him. No answer. I tried again. Still nothing.

He’s angry, I thought, biting my lower lip. He’d stormed out this morning before I could properly explain things about Patrick Wagner. Damien had completely misunderstood the situation, jumping to conclusions about my relationship with Patrick. There was nothing romantic between us at all—Patrick was merely a business colleague and friend. Or so I kept telling myself.

I’d always heard women were difficult to placate when upset, but in my experience, men—especially Alpha males like Damien—were infinitely worse. They wore their stubbornness like a badge of honor.

Back in my apartment, I settled onto my couch but couldn’t relax. My mind kept returning to Damien’s stormy expression from this morning, those intense eyes burning with something that looked suspiciously like jealousy.

On impulse, I grabbed my phone again and began calling him repeatedly. If he was ignoring me on purpose, I’d make it impossible for him to continue. Call after call, I persisted, determined to break through his stubborn silence.

After half an hour of my relentless campaign, someone finally answered.

"Damien?" I said immediately, not waiting for a greeting. "Where are you? At the office? When are you coming home? We need to talk."

There was a brief pause before a voice that definitely wasn’t Damien’s responded, "Miss Lancaster? This is Felix Morgan. We’ve met before. Damien’s at my club, and he’s had quite a bit to drink. Maybe you should come over?"

My heart skipped a beat. Damien was drinking? That was unusual—he typically maintained rigid control over himself.

"I’ll be right there. Text me the address," I replied, already grabbing my car keys.

Thirty minutes later, I pulled up to the exclusive nightclub in the heart of downtown. The bouncer recognized me immediately—the perks of being from a prominent wolf family—and directed me to a private room upstairs.

When I pushed open the door, I was hit with the strong scent of expensive whiskey. Damien was sprawled across a leather couch, looking utterly unlike his usual composed self. Felix sat nearby, looking more alert but still disheveled.

"Just the two of you drinking like this? How much has he had?" I asked, my eyes fixed on Damien’s uncharacteristically vulnerable form.

Felix ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Started in the afternoon. I’ve never seen him like this before. Something must have really gotten under his skin. He’s been knocking them back for hours—wouldn’t say a word about what’s bothering him. I was getting worried he might drink himself into a medical emergency."

He stood up, steadying himself against the wall. "This is a first. Damien doesn’t open up, you know? Good thing you’re here, Victoria. Maybe you can get through to him. I think he needs someone right now."

"Thank you for calling me, Felix," I said sincerely.

Felix gave me a knowing smile that made me uncomfortable. "Don’t mention it. My friend here isn’t exactly experienced in the relationship department. Go easy on him."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "Felix, Damien and I aren’t—"

"Say no more," he interrupted with a wink. "Everyone goes through this phase. I’m just saying... congratulations in advance."

Before I could correct his misunderstanding, Felix was already stumbling toward the door. "My driver’s waiting downstairs. I’m heading out. He’s all yours now."

Left alone with an intoxicated Alpha wolf, I approached Damien cautiously. "Damien? Can you hear me?" I called, bending down slightly.

His impressive height and muscular build were going to make moving him difficult. My petite frame wouldn’t be much help if he couldn’t walk on his own.

At the sound of my voice, his eyelids fluttered, revealing a sliver of those intense eyes. My wolf Nora immediately perked up, sensing her mate even through the alcohol haze that surrounded him. A hopeful whimper escaped her.

"Wake up. It’s time to go home," I said, reaching for his arm to try and help him up.

What I didn’t expect was his lightning-fast reflexes, even while intoxicated. With one powerful tug, he pulled me down onto his chest. I landed with a small gasp, suddenly finding myself pressed against him, our faces inches apart. The scent of whiskey mingled with his natural smoky cedar and midnight rose fragrance—an intoxicating combination that made my head swim. Nora practically purred, recognizing the familiar warmth of his Alpha presence.

"Damien, let go of me," I protested, trying to push myself away. "It’s late. You need to get home."

Instead of releasing me, his arms tightened around my waist, holding me firmly against him. Despite his intoxicated state, his strength remained overwhelming. My wolf whined contentedly at the contact, completely contradicting my verbal protests.

"Home?" he growled, his voice rough and deep. "Why should I go there? And who are you to tell me what to do? What are you to me, Victoria?"

The question hung heavy in the air between us. Even drunk, Damien Sterling radiated power and dominance.