Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 157 Should I come with you?

Victoria’s POV

I felt my wolf, Nora, stir with concern as Grandfather adjusted his glasses with a troubled expression.

"Nothing serious, just my doctor calling about an urgent check-up. The hospital phoned, and it sounds rather pressing," he explained, his voice steady despite the worry lines creasing his forehead.

My protective instincts flared.

"Should I come with you?" I asked, my fingers curling anxiously around the edge of my chair. The silver charm bracelet that concealed my true alpha scent clinked softly against the wood.

Grandfather shook his head, his silver hair catching the afternoon light streaming through Patrick’s bay windows. "Absolutely not. Today’s Patrick’s housewarming, and he’s cooking for us. It would be terribly rude if we both left," he insisted, patting my hand reassuringly. "I’ll go alone. The driver’s already waiting downstairs. You stay here, Victoria."

"But—" My protest died in my throat. I was genuinely concerned about Grandfather, but the thought of remaining alone with Patrick made my stomach knot uncomfortably. The air between us always seemed charged with an expectation I wasn’t prepared to meet.

Patrick emerged from the kitchen, the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled to his elbows, a dish towel draped over his shoulder.

"Everything alright, Alpha Lancaster?" he asked, his eyes darting between us.

Grandfather stood, straightening his jacket with practiced dignity. "Nothing to worry about, my boy. Just need to step out for a quick medical check-up. I’ll have to take a rain check on that dinner of yours. Victoria will stay and keep you company, though."

I could smell Patrick’s subtle excitement—pine and amber notes spiking in his scent even as he maintained a concerned expression. Nora huffed with annoyance.

"Are you sure everything’s okay, sir?" Patrick asked, though I detected the barely concealed pleasure in his tone.

"Nothing to worry about," Grandfather assured him. "I’ll call you when I’m finished, Victoria. Don’t fret."

With that, he squeezed my shoulder and departed, leaving me alone with Patrick in his new luxury condo. The moment the door closed, the silence between us thickened. Patrick’s gaze felt heavy as it settled on me, and I shifted uncomfortably under its weight.

I cleared my throat, searching for something—anything—to say. "Patrick, maybe we should keep it casual. Just something simple would be fine."

In truth, I didn’t want to stay for dinner at all. Being alone with Patrick always made me feel awkward, like I was tiptoeing through a minefield of unspoken expectations. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, never fully comfortable in his presence despite his Beta status in the Northstream Pack.

"Absolutely not," Patrick smiled, his eyes warming. "This is your first time visiting my new place. After all your grandfather did for me when I was just starting out, the least I can do is prepare a proper meal."

I sighed. "Then get back to your cooking."

The moment he disappeared into the kitchen again, I pulled out my phone and fired off an urgent text to Grace: 911. Need rescue at Patrick’s new place. ASAP.

Grace’s response came instantly: See? I told you he moved to your neighborhood on purpose. Stalker much?

I rolled my eyes. Believe me now? Just get over here before I die of awkwardness.

Her reply made me smile: Your knight in shining Louboutins is on the way!

Relief washed over me as I pictured my best friend rushing to my rescue. Grace’s sharp tongue and boundless energy would cut through the tension like a knife.

Barely two minutes later, the doorbell chimed. I frowned, checking the time on my phone. Even Grace couldn’t have made it here that quickly, not even if she’d sprouted wings.

"I’ll get it," I called toward the kitchen, already moving toward the door. My wolf senses tingled with wariness.

I wasn’t expecting it to be Grandfather returning, but perhaps Patrick had ordered something. Maybe it was the building manager or a neighbor introducing themselves. What I absolutely wasn’t prepared for was the imposing figure of Damien Sterling leaning against the doorframe, his smoky cedar scent hitting me like a physical force.

"You... what are you doing here? Wrong floor?" I stammered, my heart rate accelerating traitorously. My wolf Nora perked up with interest, which irritated me even more.

Damien’s lips curved into that infuriating half-smile that always made my skin tingle. "Not at all. Isn’t today Patrick’s housewarming? I’ve come to offer my congratulations." He strode past me without waiting for an invitation, carrying a bouquet of white chrysanthemums—funeral flowers, for heaven’s sake.

"Damien Sterling. What’s the meaning of this?" Patrick’s voice had dropped an octave.

Damien’s smile widened, though it never reached his eyes. "Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to congratulate you on your new home. "

The mockery in his tone was barely concealed, and I could feel the tension crackling between them like lightning before a storm.

"We’re hardly that familiar," Patrick replied stiffly. "I appreciate the sentiment, but this isn’t a good time."

"Nonsense," Damien countered, setting the chrysanthemums on a side table. "Two people hardly make for a celebration. I’ve invited a few friends to join us—they’ll be here shortly. You might want to prepare some extra food."

Patrick’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grinding. I stood frozen, sensing the territorial dispute unfolding before me.

I stared at Damien, baffled. "Why would you invite others? You and Patrick barely speak to each other."

The tension in the room was suffocating.

"To properly warm the house, of course," Damien replied smoothly. "Patrick seems rather short on friends—a reflection of his character, perhaps—so I thought I’d help."

That barb struck its target. Patrick’s eyes flashed with anger. "I don’t need your help, Damien. This is my home, and I’m asking you to leave. Now."

The authority in his voice would have made most wolves submit, but Damien merely looked amused. "I’m merely being neighborly," Damien said, his voice deceptively soft. "Or does my friend have something to hide? Something he doesn’t want me to see?" His eyes flickered briefly to me before returning to Patrick.

"Stop this act," Patrick snapped, his composure cracking.

Damien chuckled. "I’m only following your example. When we met at the Miller reception, you put on quite a show. Compared to your performance, mine lacks... finesse."

Then Damien turned to me, his expression changing subtly. "Can’t you see Patrick doesn’t welcome us? He clearly doesn’t consider us friends. Why are you still here? We should go."

The "we" in his statement was unmistakable. He intended to leave with me in tow.

I hesitated. Part of me—the part that had been dreading this dinner—was relieved at the excuse to escape. "Patrick," I said carefully, "I think Damien might need some... guidance. I’ll take him out and explain a few social norms. You can start eating without me."

Patrick’s expression immediately softened. "Victoria, that’s not what I meant at all. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. It’s just Sterling here causing trouble."

Damien’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Trouble? When did I cause trouble? I haven’t done anything. Why so quick to make accusations,Patrick Wagner? Is lying second nature to you now?" His voice dropped lower. "It’s fortunate Victoria is here to witness everything. Otherwise, would you have claimed I physically attacked you next?"