Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 175 You can go back inside

Victoria’s POV

"Should I deliberately reject your proposal just to catch you off guard?" I challenged, curiosity stirring within my wolf, Nora.

Damian leaned against his Bentley, his scent—a heady mix of cedar and midnight roses—enveloping me like an intoxicating fog. "If you reject me now, I’ll just come back and ask again," he said with that infuriating confidence that made the wolf within me sway against my better judgment.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to notice how moonlight played across his hair.

We’d been standing outside grandfather’s estate much longer than I’d anticipated.

Lancaster Manor’s wrought iron gates and stone walls loomed majestically behind us.

The mansion’s front door opened, and our housekeeper Martha emerged.

"Miss Victoria, the Alpha is waiting for dinner," she said with a respectful nod.

"I’ll be right there. You can go back inside," I told her, watching as she retreated into the house.

"I have to go," I turned back to Damian. "Grandfather’s waiting for me. You should head home too."

Damian nodded, the estate’s security lights reflecting in his deep eyes. "I’ll text you later."

"Who says I want to receive your texts?" I retorted with a mocking smile, waving dismissively as I turned toward the house.

I noticed he remained motionless, just standing there watching me. I stopped and turned back. "Why are you still here? Aren’t you leaving?"

"I’ll leave after you go inside," he said simply.

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.

Inside, a warm family dinner awaited me, while Damian seemed perpetually alone.

Years ago, his father Lawrence had chosen his half-brother Ethan over him, forcing Damian to build his own empire—becoming the secret leader of Blood Moon Pack, a fact few knew.

I’d considered inviting him in for dinner.

The thought surprised even me. But if a Sterling walked through our doors, grandfather’s blood pressure would surely skyrocket—especially this particular Sterling who’d been circling me like a predator ever since I’d broken up with his worthless half-brother.

"Victoria." His deep voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I turned to find him holding a small package. "Almost forgot—these are some gifts for your grandfather."

I walked back to take the package, our fingers brushing lightly.

"And these?" I asked, noticing the bouquet of baby’s breath in his other hand. The delicate white flowers were artfully arranged, twinkling like stars against the night sky under the porch lights.

"These are for you," he said, extending the flowers. As I accepted them, our hands touched again, and Nora nearly purred softly within me.

"Thank you," I said, breathing in their sweet fragrance before turning toward the house.

Inside, grandfather sat at the head of our massive oak dining table, his imposing frame still commanding despite his advanced age.

Before him lay a feast fit for a small crowd—roasted lamb, herbed potatoes, and fresh vegetables from our greenhouse.

"Grandfather, dinner looks amazing!" I said, setting down the flowers and sliding into my chair.

He grunted, his salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowing. "About time. I thought you’d abandoned me for that Sterling boy."

"I ran into a friend at the door, we chatted for a bit," I explained, serving myself a slice of roasted lamb.

"Friend? Ha! The boy brings flowers to my doorstep and you call him a friend? Acting like he can swagger right up to my front door!" My grandfather’s wolfish aura rippled through the room, making even the silverware tremble slightly.

"Since you already know everything, I won’t bother explaining," I said, cutting my meat. "But why exactly do you hate Damian so much? Can’t you at least analyze it rationally?"

Grandfather stabbed his potato forcefully. "Everything! He’s not worthy of you. A filthy wolf thinking he can claim the she-wolf in your bloodline. Preposterous!"

"Why won’t you give Patrick Wagner a chance? How do you know he’s not right for you?" he demanded.

"Grandfather!" At the mention of Patrick, my wolf’s ears pricked up. "Why bring him into this?"

"Because Patrick is an excellent wolf. During that hunter attack, he risked his life to save you. Ask yourself—would this Sterling boy die for you? Would he put your life above his own? Would he maintain the independence of both packs for your sake?"

After a moment’s thought, I said, "Grandfather, I once tried to convince myself to give up autonomy in marriage for the sake of pack politics. I told myself I had to do it."

"But I can’t. I can’t ignore my own feelings."

"And the most unreasonable thing about this whole situation is the rule itself. Two independent packs forced to unite because of an alpha’s marriage. I think I should challenge the rule itself, not deny my own feelings."

"Maybe I won’t succeed. Maybe I can’t change the rules or change Damian. When that day comes, I’ll choose to abandon my feelings."

"Until then, I still want to fight for what I want."

"I believe that as an alpha, one should first learn to resist, not just compromise endlessly."

"There’s another important thing. I think people who sacrifice themselves for others aren’t necessarily healthy. That kind of obsession is dangerous. Some rejected wolves threaten suicide when their mates refuse them, or do even more terrible things. I don’t want anyone to die for me—I just want everyone to live well, including you."

His stern expression softened slightly. "I said a few words, you said countless ones. Eat before the food gets cold."

"You’re not angry, are you?" I asked, studying his face carefully.

"Angry about what?"

"About Damian and what I just said. I thought you’d be upset seeing me with him."

"I won’t waste energy being angry over such an insignificant person. As for your words, I’d rather see good results than just verbal promises. You should never forget your identity." he said.

"Try the soup. Martha made it especially well tonight."

I nodded and took a sip. "If you recommend it, I definitely have to try it."

After a few more bites, I set down my spoon. "Grandfather, I’m full. I need to go out for a bit, but I’ll be right back."

As I left the table, he gave me a meaningful look but said nothing.

When I stepped outside, that sleek black Bentley still sat at our gate. Damian was in the driver’s seat, a barely-touched cigarette between his fingers, the tip resting against the open window. His gaze was fixed on the distance, lost in thought.

I walked over and plucked the cigarette from his fingers. "Planning to pick up a smoking habit? No smoking on Lancaster Manor grounds. If you really can’t help yourself, please go elsewhere."

I walked to a nearby trash bin, stubbed out the cigarette, and tossed it in. When I turned back, Damian was watching me with obvious amusement, laughter dancing in his eyes.

"I thought you were having dinner with your grandfather?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips that made my heart race.

I walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. "I thought you said you’d leave after I went inside. Seems we’re both lying."

I slid into the buttery-soft leather seat beside him, once again breathing in his intoxicating scent. My wolf hummed with contentment.

"I’ve already had dinner with grandfather, so I was wondering if Mr. Sterling would do me the honor of joining me for a late-night snack?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual despite my racing pulse when his gaze met mine.

Damian’s smile deepened, revealing perfect white teeth that reminded me of the wolf nature always lurking within him. "I would be delighted."

He started the engine, the powerful car purring to life. "What did you have in mind?"

"Anything," I replied. I’d only had soup for dinner and wasn’t particularly hungry, but I found myself wanting to spend more time with him.

I expected him to take me to some upscale restaurant where one meal cost more than most people’s monthly rent.

Instead, he drove straight to the little diner—that place on Fifth Street that Grace and I frequented. I’d only brought Damian here once before, but he’d remembered.

I suddenly realized how completely different he was from Ethan. When I’d brought his half-brother here, Ethan had sneered, calling it "peasant territory" and declaring that Sterling heirs wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place.

Yet Damian—wealthier and more powerful than Ethan could ever dream of being—walked confidently into this humble little establishment without a trace of disdain.

The dinner rush had passed, but the place still bustled with night owls. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee, burgers, and fries that made my mouth water despite my earlier lack of appetite.

"Victoria! Back again with your handsome boyfriend?" the owner called from behind the counter.

My heart skipped a beat. Should I correct her this time?