Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother (Norah and Lucien) novel Chapter 219

Chapter 219

Norah’s POV

The next morning, I was woken up by Irina’s excited shout.

“Norah! Look! You’re on the front page! No, it’s all four of you!”

[The Queen of Ruins‘ Secret Family: Genius Designer Norah Hawthorne and Business Tycoon Lucien Constantine’s “Homecoming” Moments Shown!]

[Warmth After the Kidnapping Storm: The Constantine Family’s Quiet Twins Make Their First Appearance!]

[“Imperfectly Perfect” Fashion Show: The Designer’s Ideas Actually Come from Family Love?]

Lucien walked in holding his coffee, clearly having seen the news too. He frowned and said, “I’ve already told PR to handle the source. I don’t want-”

“Look! Leo! It’s us!” Luna suddenly showed up next to Irina, pointing at the tablet with wide–eyed excitement, her little voice full of wonder. “Mommy’s measuring me, Daddy’s using that thing that sprays white smoke!”

Leo came over, too. He stared at the photos, then looked up at Lucien, his tiny brows tight in a serious way. “Why are they sneaking pictures of us? Are they bad people?”

Lucien looked at me, his worry growing deeper. “That’s the problem, Norah. Media attention is a double- edged thing. I don’t want Leo and Luna growing up living under this kind of spying and talk.”

I shook my head and crouched down, pulling the two kids into my arms.

They still carried the warm scent of sunshine and milk.

I looked into Leo’s eyes, full of caution and confusion, then at Luna’s pure curiosity. It hit the softest part of my heart.

“They’re not really bad people, Leo,” I tried to explain in a way kids could get. “They’re just really curious about what our life is like. Like how you and Luna get excited when you see new toys or hear new stories.”

I looked up at Lucien. “Lucien, we can’t keep hiding them just because we’re scared they might get hurt. Look,” I said, watching Luna’s excited little face, “Luna’s not scared of being seen. She actually thinks it’s kind of fun. And you and Leo,” I glanced at my son, who pressed his lips tight, trying to act like the little protector, “you want to keep her safe, keep this family safe. Whether it’s curiosity or wanting to protect her, hiding won’t fix anything.”

I stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the Paris sky.

My fingertips gently traced the slightly blurry but warm family photo on the tablet screen. “And don’t you think so?” I looked up, my eyes moving over the sample clothes hanging in the studio, the design sketches covering the walls, before finally settling back on Lucien’s face. “This clearly shows my theme, Imperfectly Perfect.”

“A family that had been broken, struggled, hurt, but was trying to come back together. A relationship full of misunderstandings, pain, and time apart, yet in the end, choosing forgiveness and coming back. Two kids born under the shadow of schemes and betrayal, but still trying to grow toward the light. And me, this thornbird with a right hand full of scars, still trying to hold onto my paintbrush and scissors…”

“All these flaws were now out there for everyone to see. That alone took guts, a statement, an attempt to turn personal hurt and healing into public art. Isn’t that the true Imperfectly Perfect?”

Lucien watched me quietly. His eyes moved with a mix of worry, struggle, thought, and finally, pride.

His look went back to the two kids. Luna was still tapping the tablet with curiosity, while Leo quietly moved closer to me, his small hand grabbing the edge of my shirt.

“You’re right,” Lucien finally said, his voice low and steady. “My queen.”

He reached out, gently rubbing Leo’s soft hair, then lightly pinching Luna’s round cheek.

“Then let them see. Let them see how our family turns all that damn imperfection into something good.”

He crouched down and looked at the still uneasy Leo. “Don’t be scared, Leo. Daddy and Mommy will keep you safe. And we’re gonna make sure everyone knows our family is amazing.”

One week later, the Paris Opera House.

Packed to the rafters.

Not just the big names in fashion, but European royalty, quiet billionaires, cross–industry art icons… almost half of Europe’s high society was here.

I stood backstage by the runway curtain, my eyes locked on the center seat in the front row.

Lucien sat there, his back straight as a board.

His mother, Lady Kathy, was on his right, and Aunt Giulia, who had come just for this, sat on his left. Next to her was Mrs. Clément, his teacher.

They noticed me and waved in a warm way.

Lucien’s hand lightly went up to rub his nose, that small, nervous habit he only showed when he was really

tense.

He was tense for me.

That thought warmed my heart, and my fingers didn’t feel so cold anymore.

I turned and walked back backstage. Irina held the walkie–talkie, checking every little thing again, while Katarina was busy going over the outfits.

My right palm, hidden under the lace glove, was sweating a bit.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify