Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 210 I knew it!

Victoria’s POV

"I knew it! I still have a special place in little Victoria’s heart!" Grace exclaimed, sliding closer to me on the leather booth. Her body heat warmed my side as we clinked our cocktail glasses together.

Despite choosing the dimly lit corner of The Moonlight Lounge, we’d attracted unwanted attention. Several pairs of eyes had been tracking our movements since we arrived, and it didn’t take long before one of them made his move.

A tall man with slicked-back hair approached our table, his cologne hitting me before he even spoke. My wolf, Nora, stirred inside me, immediately disliking his scent.

"Ladies, can I buy you both a drink?" His smile revealed too-perfect veneers, eyes scanning us like merchandise.

"No thanks," I replied coolly, my fingers tightening around my glass. "We’re taken."

Most men took the hint and backed away, but this one’s expression shifted from charming to predatory. His scent changed too – the sour note of entitlement wafting toward us.

"That doesn’t bother me at all," he purred, leaning closer. The whiskey on his breath made Nora growl deep in my chest.

"Well, it bothers me," I stated flatly, my eyes deliberately flashing just enough alpha energy to make a human uncomfortable without revealing what I was.

He scoffed, his facade cracking. "Why so stuck-up? You’re in a bar on a Friday night looking like that. What did you expect?" His gaze traveled down my body. "Or am I just not good enough for you?"

My temper flared, Nora clawing at my restraint. "This is a bar. I’m here to drink. Your assumptions about my intentions say more about you than me. Last warning – leave us alone."

I hated men like this – ordinary yet overflowing with unearned confidence, thinking women existed for their entertainment.

"Drinking? Sure." He laughed, the sound grating on my nerves. "Dressed like that? You’re here to hook up. Stop playing hard to get. Do you even know who I am? You should consider yourself lucky I noticed you."

Grace leaned forward, her protective energy radiating outward. "I couldn’t care less who you are. She told you to leave. Are you hard of hearing, or just ignoring basic human decency?"

Instead of backing off, the man threw his head back and laughed. A moment later, two more men joined him.

"Shuler! When did you get here, man?" one called out, clapping him on the shoulder. "Found your targets for tonight already?"

"Damn, Shuler hit the jackpot," the other one whistled. "These two are gorgeous. Mind sharing when you’re done? Just looking at this one’s face has me all worked up."

Their laughter echoed around us, drawing attention from nearby tables. The acid taste of rage burned in my throat.

Grace’s face flushed with anger. "Are you seriously objectifying us right to our faces? That’s beyond disgusting. Get the hell away from our table."

How do men like this even exist? In their eyes, were women just conquests to be claimed and discarded?

One of the newcomers smirked. "You clearly don’t know who Shuler Hensley is. Being chosen by him would be your biggest accomplishment."

"I don’t give a damn if he’s the king of England," Grace snapped, her Southern accent thickening with anger. "We said leave. Which part of that is confusing your tiny brains?"

"Watch your mouth," the friend warned. "Shuler noticing you is a privilege, so don’t get—AHHH!"

His sentence ended in a shriek as I tossed my full glass of whiskey directly into his face. The amber liquid splashed across his designer shirt and dripped from his chin.

"You bitch! How dare you—" he sputtered, wiping his eyes.

I stood slowly, unleashing just a hint of my alpha presence. Even these human males could sense something dangerous emanating from me. "Watch your language. Getting drenched is mild compared to what I could do. You have three seconds to walk away before I stop being polite."

My gaze cut through him like winter frost, making him visibly shiver despite the bar’s warmth. I counted Hensley’s rapid heartbeats as he processed the threat in my voice.

"You... you..." The drenched man stammered, pointing a shaking finger at me. Something in my expression must have terrified him because he turned to Hensley instead. "Shuler, are you seeing this? She attacked me! Do something!"

Hensley puffed out his chest, trying to reclaim control of the situation. "You’ve got some nerve throwing drinks. Spend tonight with me, and maybe I’ll smooth this over. Otherwise—"

His threat evaporated as my second drink hit him square in the face, liquor dripping from his eyelashes and expensive haircut.

"Still dreaming even though the night’s just started?" I taunted, my wolf enjoying this far too much. "Here’s a better offer: if you get on your knees and apologize right now, I might let you leave with your dignity intact."

His friends bristled like angry chihuahuas.

"Shuler, this bitch is out of control! She needs to learn her place!"

Wiping his face with a sleeve, Hensley snarled, "Do you have any idea who I am? My father is Howard Hensley!"

I turned to Grace with exaggerated confusion. "Have you ever heard of Howard Hensley?"

Grace shook her head, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Nope, not ringing any bells."

"Give me a moment," I said, pulling out my phone. "I need to make a call."

Hensley’s lips curved into a smug smile. "Calling the police? Good luck with that."

I dialed Kane, my trusted beta. "Kane, run a check on Howard Hensley. Then inform him his son just got his ass handed to him by me." I hung up without waiting for a response.

Hensley blinked in confusion, my words not registering until my fist connected with his nose. The satisfying crunch of cartilage and the metallic scent of blood filled the air as he staggered backward.

"You crazy bitch—" His insult cut short as my foot connected with his chest, sending him sprawling onto the sticky bar floor.

After everything I’d been through, I’d learned self-defense wasn’t optional. I might not win against trained fighters, but entitled rich boys like this? Child’s play.

I straddled him on the floor, landing precise blows that would hurt but not cause permanent damage. Hensley howled beneath me, his friends frozen in shock until I finally stood up.

They rushed to help him to his feet, his face a mess of blood and tears. "You... you attacked Shuler Hensley! Do you have any idea what’s going to happen to you? You won’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!"

I brushed invisible dust from my jeans. "Really? Because I’m pretty sure someone’s about to have a very bad night, and it’s not me."

As if on cue, Hensley’s phone rang. He fumbled to answer it, blood smearing across the screen. His eyes lit up with vindication.

"It’s my father," he announced triumphantly. "When he hears what happened, you’re dead!"

He answered the call, a childish grin spreading across his bloody face. "Dad? Your son was just assaulted by this woman and—"

The smile vanished from his face as he listened, his complexion turning ashen beneath the blood stains. My enhanced hearing picked up the panicked cadence of his father’s voice on the other end of the line.

I couldn’t help but smile. The night was just getting started.