Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother (Norah and Lucien) novel Chapter 90

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 90**

**Chapter 90**

**Norah’s POV**

I had no time to ponder my next move. Panic surged through me as I darted behind the heavy velvet curtains, my heart racing, and I held my breath, hoping to remain unseen.

Creeeak— the door creaked open, and I could hear the muffled sounds of two maids entering the room.

“Hurry up, replace these wilted flowers. Madame finds them utterly upsetting,” one of them said, her voice brisk and urgent.

The other maid responded, her tone laced with excitement. “Hey, it’s almost a fight out there!”

“A fight? Between whom?” the first maid asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Who else? That little princess from the Veyron family and that dashing Spanish man! I just went to fetch water and saw Miss Veyron hurl a whole glass of red wine right in that man’s face!”

“Oh my god! She’s so bold! That’s Mr. Mateo! Madame must be furious, right?”

“Absolutely! Her face was practically green with rage. If the butler hadn’t intervened, I’m sure she would have launched herself at Miss Veyron right then and there…”

Their chatter continued, but my mind was racing. The chaos Mateo had stirred up was starting to settle, and I knew I had to return immediately!

I pressed myself tightly against the wall, my palms clammy with sweat, and I focused on my breathing, careful not to make a sound.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maids finished their task and exited the study, their voices fading away down the corridor.

With a swift movement, I slipped out from behind the curtains, ensuring I left no trace of my presence. I retraced my steps, my heart pounding in my ears.

As I re-entered the reception area, I noticed that the small commotion had indeed calmed.

Amélie was surrounded by a group of society ladies, using a handkerchief to dab at the wine stains that marred her face and dress. Her expression was a mixture of humiliation and simmering resentment.

Meanwhile, Mateo had changed into a pristine suit, a glass in hand, engaged in conversation with someone across the room.

When he caught sight of me, a grin spread across his face, and he raised his glass slightly in acknowledgment, his smile growing wider.

I offered him a subtle nod, picked up a glass of champagne from a nearby table, and made my way to a quiet corner, trying to blend into the background.

Soon enough, Mateo concluded his conversation and began weaving his way through the crowd towards me, his presence magnetic. He took my hand in his, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

“Miss Hawthorne, may our date begin now?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Stop!” Eleanor’s voice rang out, sharp and demanding as she stepped forward, blocking our path.

In an instant, his tall figure followed me, pinning me firmly against the rough wooden crates that pressed against my back.

The familiar scent of cedar and whiskey enveloped me, intoxicating and familiar.

He pulled down the mask obscuring his face, revealing the very visage I had been yearning for day and night.

“Lucien…” I breathed, my heart racing.

Before I could utter another word, his lips crashed down onto mine, wild and fervent, filled with an urgency that sent my mind spinning.

He was like a ravenous beast, fiercely devouring my lips, his tongue invading my mouth, as if trying to expel all the unease, jealousy, and longing that had built up between us over the past days through this kiss.

One hand gripped the back of my head possessively, while the other arm encircled my waist with a strength that felt as if he wanted to meld our bodies together completely.

“Lucien, it’s not safe here…” I managed to gasp out during a fleeting moment of respite, pushing against his chest in a desperate attempt to create some space.

He only held me tighter, his voice a low growl above my head.

“I know.”

“Come with me.”