Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 169 Something to drink?

Victoria’s POV

Damian didn’t press me to leave. He simply stood there, his amber eyes fixed directly on me under the dim glow of the streetlights.

"What is it you want to tell me?" Damian asked directly, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. My lips parted slightly, but faced with the powerful Alpha, I found myself wavering involuntarily. My wolf Nora stirred restlessly within me; despite my attempts to maintain composure, she was still deeply drawn to him.

"I was going to ask if you wanted something to drink," I finally managed, forcing a casual tone. "My treat. I was just thinking we could grab something from the shop."

"Something to drink?" he echoed.

"Booze, naturally," I managed a small, forced laugh. "My treat. I figured we could just swing by the convenience store on the way."

Without waiting for his response, I turned and headed towards the shop at the complex entrance. As I walked away, I could feel his gaze following me, that familiar intensity both unsettling and exhilarating. I bought an array of alcoholic beverages. His presence beside me felt both comforting and dangerous. His wolf, Arthur, exuded such potent Alpha energy that my own wolf paced excitedly within me.

"Your place or mine?" Damian asked, the seemingly casual question carrying a heavy implication that made my heart skip a beat. A strong sense of déjà vu washed over me. How many times had he asked me that same question? When had we started visiting each other’s homes so frequently?

"Yours," I decided. If I went to his place, I could leave easily if I wanted to. If we went to my place... well, Damian Sterling wasn’t the type to be politely escorted out. An Alpha like him, once settled, tends to stay put.

He nodded, a simple "Hmmph" rumbling in his chest.

We walked into the elevator together, and I watched as he reached out to press the penthouse button. His fingers were exquisitely formed—long, with prominent knuckles, and broad palms that suited his imposing physique perfectly. Damian exuded power from every pore, from his posture to the most subtle movement of his hands.

Damian noticed my gaze, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Like what you see? If you admire these hands so much, I could give them to you."

"Give them to me? You planning on chopping them off?" I asked with genuine curiosity, feeling my wolf stir with excitement.

"You’d have full access," he said, his voice low and dangerous, a velvety timbre that sent goosebumps across my skin. "Use them how you like, for whatever you desire. If you truly wish to lop them off as trophies—" a dark, amused glint appeared in his eyes "—feel free to try. I won’t resist."

The first half sounded like a promise, the latter half clearly a jest. We both knew I had no intention of dismembering him.

"Careful what you promise, Sterling," I warned playfully. "What if I suddenly decide I want to be the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack? Or, what if I commit some misdeed and make your hands sign the confession—making you my scapegoat?"

The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor.

"Come open the door," I said, stepping out first. As we approached his apartment, the scent of his territory grew stronger. My wolf perked up, already familiar and comfortable within this space.

Damian followed, carrying our bags. He opened the door, but instead of letting me in immediately, he stood guarding the entrance.

I tried to walk past him. "What’s wrong? Regretting letting me in already?"

"No, just stand here." He gently guided me to the door lock. I felt a quick scan across my face as the security system registered me.

Damian’s voice was casual, but his actions were anything but. "Now you can come to my place anytime you want. If I’m not home, don’t wait outside—just come right in." He pulled me back towards the scanner. "Try it."

I was genuinely surprised. Granting someone unrestricted access to one’s territory was a significant gesture for any wolf, let alone an Alpha like Damian.

"You trust me that much? You’re not worried I’ll clear out your house?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, though my wolf instinctively preened at the unspoken trust.

"If you want anything, take it now," he said generously as we stepped inside. His scent enveloped me—a mix of cedar and midnight roses, potent yet comforting. I settled onto the sofa beside the table where he placed our drinks.

"Too much trouble," I said, opening a bottle and taking a large gulp.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, his sharp eyes scrutinizing me. I knew he was worried about me drinking on an empty stomach. Werewolves had fast metabolisms, but drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t good for anyone.

"A little," I admitted. I’d had a late lunch and wasn’t feeling hungry. All I wanted right now was the burning sensation of alcohol sliding down my throat.

"I’ll order some food. Make sure you eat something," he insisted. I remembered Damian had gone straight to the police station after hearing about the driver’s death. He probably hadn’t eaten either.

Food arrived quickly, and we ate, drank, and talked. The alcohol warmed my blood, and I felt more relaxed in his presence.

"Do you know about Ethan’s remarriage?" I asked abruptly, carefully watching his reaction.

His eyes immediately darkened, deeper emotions swirling within his amber irises. "What’s this? Are you upset that Ethan’s getting married, so you’ve come to drink with me? Drowning your sorrows?"

I nearly choked on my drink. "His marriage means nothing to me—in fact, it’s a blessing he’s gone. I’m just curious about what role you played. His remarriage was astonishingly fast. You had a hand in it, didn’t you?"

Cornered by my accusation, Damian didn’t deny it. "They both went willingly. He is my dear brother, after all," his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Of course, I helped things along. But you should know—that child she’s carrying? It’s not Ethan’s. What do you think will happen when he finally finds out the truth?"

"What?" I sat bolt upright, my wolf instantly alert. "The child isn’t Ethan’s?"

"No. She slept with several men after Ethan was arrested. She’s been planning her ascent all along. From the moment she accompanied Ethan abroad, everything was meticulously planned. She just didn’t expect the opportunity to arise so quickly."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Doesn’t she know what kind of man Lawrence Sterling is? How dare she deceive the Alpha of the North Creek Pack? Once he discovers the truth, he’ll destroy her completely. She’ll be lucky to get out alive." Pack politics were ruthless and unforgiving. Packs would fight fiercely to protect their bloodline.

Damian scoffed, a chill filling the room. "Do you really think a scheming woman like her hasn’t considered that? She certainly won’t let the child be born. The moment the child is born, if the Sterlings have any suspicions, they can demand a DNA test at any time. She’ll likely try to induce a miscarriage, but who she’ll pin the blame on remains to be seen. If Marcia miscarries, she can play the victim and blame everything on the Sterlings. That way, she can walk away unscathed, and even if Ethan divorces her, she’ll have used this time to accumulate a substantial fortune for herself."

Damian had only met Marcia twice, yet his analysis of her character was chillingly accurate, predicting her every move. It made me wonder—if I had my own plans, could Damian see through them just as easily?

"What kind of look is that?" he asked, meeting my gaze. "You’re looking at me with such adoration."

"You must be seeing things," I scoffed. "That’s not admiration; I just find you terrifying." If he set his sights on someone, he would accomplish his task effortlessly and methodically.

"So you haven’t moved against the Sterling family yet," I mused, swirling the drink in my glass, "not because you lack opportunity, but because you’re waiting for the right moment. How much stock in Sterling Enterprises do you hold now? And how many people within the company are your trusted confidantes?"

A sly grin curved Damian’s lips. "Guess?"

"Shareholding structures are public record. I’ve followed Sterling Enterprises’ stock movements for the past five years," I admitted. "Many small shareholders have been replaced, but there were no obvious connections between them. Since then, the shareholding structure hasn’t changed much. Everyone’s shares are widely dispersed, but collectively they represent a substantial portion." I paused, observing his expression. "Damian, those people... they’re all *yours*, aren’t they?"