Claimed by My Ex Chapter 162 Do I look untrustworthy?

Chapter 162: Chapter 162 Do I look untrustworthy?

Victoria’s POV

As I was about to leave, Patrick’s voice rang out from inside the room again, "Victoria, co back!"

I didn’t hesitate, turning back into the room.

Patrick looked at , a self-pitying expression on his face. "Victoria, I got hurt because of you." He paused, then added, "You should take care of ."

For a mont, I was stunned. If it was *just* about taking care of him, I could accept that. So I nodded, a tentative agreent.

But then he continued, his voice dropping to a low, possessive tone, "While you’re taking care of , you should break up with Damian. All your attention needs to be on ."

"Patrick," I managed, my voice tight with disbelief, "What are you saying?" A wave of anxiety crept up my spine, constricting my throat.

Patrick pressed on, his gaze unwavering. "I want you to take responsibility for . I want you to be with , to be my partner, and to take care of

forever."

His demand for

to "take responsibility" felt like a colossal weight pressing down on my chest. How was I supposed to take responsibility? What did he even an by that?

Yes, Patrick had saved , and I was genuinely grateful. I would make sure he received the best care possible and recovered quickly. But beyond that? My wolf, Nora, stirred restlessly within , just as confused and agitated by his demands.

There were many ways to show gratitude. If he expected

to tie my entire life to this one incident, I couldn’t do it.

"You’re in this state because you saved ," I said, my voice remarkably calm despite the storm raging inside . "But that doesn’t an I’m going to break up with my husband and be with you. I can’t do that. I’ll arrange for soone else to take good care of you. For now, you should rest."

I turned and walked out of the room, unable to tolerate being alone with him any longer. The air felt thick, heavy with expectations I couldn’t – and wouldn’t – fulfill.

"Victoria, don’t go! Please don’t leave!" Patrick cried out desperately behind . But I pretended not to hear, walking away with firm, determined steps. I heard sounds like fists pounding against the hospital bed from inside, but I kept walking. Let him be angry. I couldn’t be his emotional crutch.

Damian was still waiting in the hallway. From his tense posture, I knew he’d heard everything, and had been on the verge of bursting in.

"You can send your people ho now," I said, pushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "I’ll find soone to take care of Patrick."

Damian leaned against the wall, a faint scent of cedarwood emanating from him. "If you need help, just tell . I’ll get the best doctors to treat him. However, I will absolutely not agree to a divorce from you. And as your husband, knowing his intentions, I also cannot agree to you taking care of him alone."

I stared at the floor tiles, my wolf, Nora, giving a low growl of agreent.

"I won’t be taking care of him alone, I... I don’t have ti..." I mumbled. My mind was a jumble of thoughts. My gut told

I shouldn’t compromise because of Patrick. But he *had* gotten hurt because he saved . If it hadn’t been for , he might not have been injured at all.

"That’s not the right answer," Damian said, stepping closer to , his presence suddenly more potent.

"What do you an?" I asked, instinctively taking half a step back.

"You should be saying you don’t want to take care of him because you don’t *like* him, not because you don’t have ti," he continued, his eyes dark and probing. "If ti were the *only* issue, you’d surely make ti for him, wouldn’t you? Would you beco his private caregiver?" He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Didn’t *I* save you that night too? Where’s *my* bedside care? If we’re counting saviors, I’m definitely first in line, Princess."

"That’s completely different," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "It’s late, Damian, you should go ho."

"And you? Planning to spend the night here?" he asked, his gaze tracking my every move.

I nodded. "Yes, Grandpa still needs looking after. I’ll stay here with him."

"If you *must* stay with Grandpa, then do so, but rember to rest," his voice softened abruptly. "Don’t worry about . You’re busy enough without adding

to your plate."

"Right," I agreed, suddenly realizing how exhausted I was. My mind felt like a tangled web, with no clear beginning or end.

Later, as I sat with Grandpa in his room, my phone buzzed. It was Damian. The call rang for only two seconds before stopping, imdiately followed by a text ssage: "Co to the door."

Driven by curiosity, I walked to the corridor and found Damian standing there, a takeout bag in his hand. The rich aroma of the food made my stomach rumble involuntarily.

"I figured you haven’t eaten tonight," he said, lifting the bag slightly. "Got you sothing, and sothing light for your grandpa too."

"Thank you," I said, taking the food. His thoughtfulness ca as a complete surprise.

I first brought Grandpa his portion, explaining that it was from Damian.

"Damian’s really considerate. Would you like to try so? If not, that’s perfectly fine, you can just set it aside for now," I offered gently.

Grandpa huffed disapprovingly. "Is that pup still out there?"

I nodded, and his brows furrowed even deeper.

"If you want, I can send him away right now," I suggested, but ended up spending a considerable amount of ti outside with Damian instead. We found a quiet corner and shared the al he’d brought. I couldn’t possibly finish it all by myself, and I suspected Damian had been too busy today to eat properly.

"Thanks again for everything today," I said, unwrapping a sandwich.

"No big deal, don’t worry about it."

"This accident just feels off to ," Damian continued, his expression darkening. "On the surface, it looks like bad luck, but I’m a pessimist by nature. I can’t help but wonder if Patrick orchestrated it himself."

There was no evidence to support his theory – it was purely Damian’s gut feeling. Nevertheless, it unsettled .

"That’s ridiculous," I retorted. "Who would risk their life like that? That car was coming straight for . If Patrick hadn’t wanted to save , he could have just stayed put."

"Don’t judge others by your own standards," Damian warned, a flicker of primal fear in his eyes. "Just because you and I think rationally doesn’t an everyone does. Victoria, be careful. Don’t be so naive as to believe everything at face value."

I studied him for a mont, then quipped, "By your logic,

sitting here and eating with you is naive. After all, you just said I shouldn’t trust anyone – including you."

Damian looked as if he’d fallen right into his own trap. Seeing his expression, I couldn’t help but laugh.

"Do I look untrustworthy?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"There’s not an ounce of honesty on your face," I retorted, letting my gaze linger on him for a mont. Damian Sterling was the very embodint of dangerous charm. He was breathtakingly handso, his sharp eyes seeming to see straight through you. A single glance from him was enough to make your heart race. I had to force myself to look away, lest my inner wolf react even more overtly to his presence.

Halfway through our al, the professional caregiver arranged by Kane arrived. I put down my food, thanked Damian, and then led the staff mber to Patrick’s room.

When we entered, Patrick was extrely pale. "Victoria," he said weakly, "My leg hurts terribly."

"I’ll call the doctor right away to have them check on you," I said imdiately. "Perhaps they can prescribe sothing stronger for the pain. Actually, the pain is a good thing – it ans you still have sensation. That’s a positive sign. Complete numbness, at least, would be far more worrying."

"By the way, this is Kane. You’ve t before." I gestured to Kane, who stood by the door with a professional deanor. "He’ll be staying with you tonight, making sure you have everything you need."