Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother (Norah and Lucien) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210

Norah’s POV:

The firelight flickered against the walls.

13%2

Finished

I was so damn tired, my eyelids felt like lead, but I didn’t dare actually fall asleep. Every now and then, I’d reach out and touch his forehead.

Finally, his fever started to break. His skin went from burning hot to just warm, and he even broke out in a light sweat.

My nerves finally relaxed, and I was so exhausted I didnt have the strength to hold onto his arm anymore. I was drifting off, barely conscious.

Suddenly, I felt the person in my arms stir slightly.

I snapped my eyes open.

Lucien was still curled up in my arms, but I could tell his breathing had slowed down.

“Lucien?” I tried to call his name, my throat raw and hoarse.

He stiffened for a moment.

Then, bit by bit, he lifted his head.

The firelight lit up his face.

He was still pale as a ghost, lips cracked and dry, dark circles and red veins under his eyes.

His gaze was complicated–tired, like someone who’d just cheated death, and soft when he looked at me.

We were so close.

Close enough to count each eyelash, close enough to smell the mix of blood, burnt flesh, saltwater, and sweat on him, close enough to feel his breath hit the tip of my nose, suddenly uneven.

That’s when it hit me–this was how we looked right now. I was barely wearing half–dry underwear, and he was holding me tight.

His clothes were ripped and ragged, and my palm pressed against his scorching skin and rock–hard muscles.

It was awkward and intimate all at once.

My face flushed red, and I instinctively tried to pull away

But he was faster.

He grabbed me, holding me even tighter.

“Don’t,” he rasped, his voice rough and hoarse.

I didn’t move.

Because I saw the fresh blood seeping from the wound on his forehead, saw the pain etched on his face.

21:10 Tue, Jan 20

Chapter 210

But more than that, there was a question burning inside me that I had to ask.

I looked him straight in the eyes.

“The fake wedding,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “What the hell is going on?”

He squeezed my hand tighter.

༥༣13%.

Finished

He froze for a long moment, then seemed to give in, relaxing like he’d accepted whatever was coming.

The cave was quiet except for the crackling fire and the distant sound of waves crashing.

He closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then opened them again.

And in his eyes, there was nothing but calm.

“I saw it,” he said in a low voice. “On the wedding day, Mateo carried you into his car.”

He twisted the corner of his mouth into a smile that was uglier than crying. “I lost it right then.”

“I shoved everyone aside and jumped on the motorcycle parked in the alley behind the church to chase after you.” His eyes went a little blank, like he was back in that chaotic day three years ago. “That bike… it was like it knew I’d be the one to ride it. Just happened to be there.”

Suddenly, his gaze turned ice–cold and sharp.

“Later, I found out that old fox, Veyron, had it all planned out!”

“He figured Amélie would come after you, knew that if I saw you hurt, I’d lose my damn mind. Even Mateo showing up wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Old Veyron only needed a scrap of info about you, and that guy would come rushing over like a shark smelling blood.”

“That’s exactly what he wanted–to make me watch you get hurt, pick someone else, and then completely lose it. The motorcycle, the only road, the car losing control around the corner–it was all his setup. What he wanted was for me to die in that accident.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a chill crawl down my spine.

Lucien pulled me closer and kept going. “Norah, you were the perfect bait he set for me. Even if I knew there was a trap ahead, I’d still charge in headfirst. And he had to do was wait on the sidelines.”

He looked at me, eyes filled with fear and pain. “Besides that day, all I could think about was catching up to you. I was speeding, taking a sharp turn-”

He stopped, his breathing getting a little ragged.

“After that, everything’s a blur. The crash, the roll, then lack. When I woke up, I was in the ICU, hooked up to a dozen tubes, broken bones, a concussion. The doctors said I was out cold for two weeks.”

My throat tightened as I pictured it, pain stabbing through my chest.

Where was I then?

In a hospital in Washington, terrified of losing the baby and my hands almost ruined, on the edge of breaking down, filled with nothing but hate.

13

Finished

“The irony is,” he chuckled low, the sound dripping with bitterness and cruelty, “while I was half out of it, half awake, I heard people arguing outside my room. It was Amélie and that old fox.”

“Amélie was screaming, asking why they just hurt me, why they didn’t kill me! If I died, what would she do?!”

He repeated those words, his voice eerily calm.

“That moment, I finally knew for sure–the old fox really wanted me dead, and his dumb daughter? She had this sick obsession with me. She just wanted me, no matter if she had to trick me or tie me up to get me.”

“So,” I asked, my voice shaking, “you used that against her?”

“Yeah.” He admitted it straight up, looking me dead in the eye. “I played along with their game. Pretended I was broken–‘cause of the injury and seeing you pick someone else—I acted weak and needy. I let Amélie get close, let her take care of me, even when she tried to touch me, I held back the disgust and didn’t push her away.”

He clenched his teeth as he spoke, his eyes full of disgust, like the memory itself was filthy.

“During that time, I was acting every single day. Seeing that obsessed, smug look on her face, hearing her plan some so–called future–I wanted to puke, wanted to snap her neck.” His voice dripped with hatred. “But I knew I had to hold it in. I needed to get info out of her find the cracks in the Veyron family. I had to use her, a love–drunk pawn, to help her old man handle some dirty business, then keep the dirt on them.”

“It took me almost a year and a half,” he went on, his tone cooling down, calm as ice. “Using the scraps she gave me, I worked like a termite, slowly eating away at the core of the Veyron family’s smuggling routes and illegal shipping channels. I teamed up with Interpol, bribed key insiders, and finally handed over enough evidence to lock old man Veyron away for good.”

“When Amélie found out I was behind it all, she kinda lost it. So I took advantage and locked her up in a mental hospital.”

The cave was quiet except for his voice echoing softly, calmly telling a story of a heart–stopping revenge.

“But,” I asked dryly, the question stabbing at my heart,ince the Veyron family’s fallen and Amélie’s locked up, why does all of Paris–no, the whole damn world–ill think you two are a legit married couple? Why have you never cleared that up?”

652