Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother (Norah and Lucien) novel Chapter 135

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 135**

**Chapter 135**

“Luen! Watch out!”

The piercing scream sliced through the chaos like a knife, reverberating in the air around us.

It was Amelie.

In a whirlwind of silk and sheer desperation, she darted forward, her hands pushing Lucien aside with an unexpected, almost feral strength.

The timing was nothing short of miraculous, a split-second decision that felt surreal, as if time itself had slowed down for just a moment.

Thud—

The sound was wet and heavy, echoing in the lavish room.

A sickening crunch reverberated through the air as steel met flesh and bone.

The knife, intended for Lucien’s heart, found its way deep into Amelie’s shoulder instead.

A spray of crimson arched through the air, splattering against the polished marble floor, a stark contrast to the opulence around us.

The gleam of the blade’s hilt was grotesque, a foreign object lodged in the pale fabric of her dress, a harbinger of the horror that had just unfolded.

“Amélie!”

Lucien’s roar erupted from his throat, raw and primal, filled with an anguish that resonated deeply within me. He spun around, movements sharp and frantic, as if he were trying to grasp the threads of reality that had suddenly unraveled.

He caught her just as her legs buckled, her body collapsing into his arms like a marionette with its strings cut.

Her eyes were wide and shocked, staring up at him in disbelief, as a trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth, painting her lips a deeper shade of red.

Amelie lay cradled against him, the blood spreading rapidly across her chest, a crimson blossom against the white fabric. Her breath came in ragged, gurgling gasps, each one a struggle for life.

With a faint, twisted smile that belied the horror of her condition, she whispered, “Luen… I love you…” Each word was a monumental effort, a testament to her love even in the face of death. “Dying for you… makes me happy…”

Her head lolled back, eyes rolling upwards, as if she were already slipping away from this world.

And then she fell completely, terrifyingly unconscious in his embrace, leaving Lucien cradling her lifeless form.

I stood frozen, paralyzed by the scene unfolding before me.

I felt like a statue of ice in the warm, opulent room, my feet glued to the spot as I watched the horror play out like a tragic play from which I could not escape.

Lucien held her tightly, arms wrapped protectively around her broken body. The shock on his face was palpable, morphing into a gut-wrenching guilt that twisted his features into a mask of despair.

He looked utterly destroyed, the sight of him sent a cold shard of glass slicing through my own chest. I felt helpless, overwhelmed, a mere spectator in my own nightmare.

“Call an ambulance!” Lucien’s voice shattered the stunned silence of the remaining guests, a cracked, desperate command that cut through the air like a knife.

He lifted Amelie’s unconscious form as if she were weightless, cradling her against his chest like a fragile treasure. In that moment, he was transformed into a madman, a man driven by love and fear.

He charged through the scattered crowd, his path a frantic line toward the exit. His expensive suit, once pristine, was now marred, ruined by the blood that stained it like a cruel reminder of the night’s events.

As he passed me, his stride momentarily faltered, suspended in time for a single heartbeat.

His eyes, wild and clouded with panic, met mine. “Wait for my call.”

The words came out as a low, hurried rasp, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around us.

“Mateo! Hurry! Take her to the hospital! Now!” she commanded, her voice rising with authority.

Mateo didn’t need to be told twice.

In one swift motion, he shrugged off his tailored jacket and wrapped it around my trembling shoulders. The residual warmth from his body was a small comfort against the chill that racked through me.

Without a word, he scooped me up into his arms, holding me securely against his chest.

“Hang on, Norah. I’m taking you to the hospital,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady anchor in the storm of my pain. He was already moving, his strides long and purposeful, cutting through the chaos.

He carried me out of the banquet hall, past the shattered glass and the stunned faces of the guests, who were still reeling from the horror they had witnessed.

Madame Kathy followed closely behind, her heels clicking a rapid, anxious rhythm on the floor.

I could hear her speaking urgently into her phone, her voice strained with urgency. “Yes, we need an emergency entrance ready… severe abdominal pain…”

The pain came in relentless, nauseating waves, each one crashing over me like a tide threatening to pull me under.

I curled up instinctively in Mateo’s arms, seeking a smaller, less vulnerable shape, as if that might shield me from the agony that consumed me.

The world around me became a smear of colors and lights, blurring together into an indistinguishable mess.

In my ears, the only clear sounds were the rapid, solid thumping of Mateo’s heartbeat against my ear and Madame Kathy’s urgent, fading voice.

The last thing I saw, as Mateo carried me through the grand entrance, was the massive crystal chandelier hanging from the banquet hall ceiling.

Its thousand points of light fractured, shattering into a thousand glittering, meaningless fragments above the scene of chaos.

Then, the darkness didn’t just loom; it rushed in, thick and absolute, completely swallowing me whole.