Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 103

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 103**

**Chapter 103**

**Norah’s POV**

The air in the room still shimmered with the remnants of our shared heat, a heady blend of sweat and unfulfilled desire that lingered like a sweet, haunting melody. I nestled against Lucien’s chest, the rhythmic thump of his heart a steady reassurance, while his arm, warm and protective, encircled my waist.

In that brief moment of tranquility, it felt as though the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of us in our own sanctuary. But that peace was shattered with a sudden buzz from my phone resting on the nightstand, its insistent vibration cutting through the silence like a knife.

Lucien’s body tensed immediately, a predator sensing danger. He reached for my phone, glancing at the screen with a furrowed brow.

“Mrs. DuBois,” he muttered, the name alone sending a chill down my spine.

The message was stark and urgent: *[Your location is exposed. Eleanor’s people and the police are on their way. Move now.]*

“Damn it,” Lucien cursed under his breath, his voice low and strained. He sprang from the bed, pulling on his clothes with a speed that spoke of practiced urgency.

He crossed the room, now fully dressed, and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, a fleeting gesture that felt both tender and terrifying.

“Stay here. I’ll handle everything and come back for you,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Panic surged within me, and I grasped his hand before he could pull away. “I’m going with you,” I insisted, scrambling to gather my clothes, my heart racing with the weight of my decision.

“No,” he replied firmly, his voice brooking no dissent. “They’re after me. If you follow, you’ll only put yourself in greater danger.”

I met his gaze, my voice unwavering. “Lucien, do you really believe Eleanor will just let me walk away? The moment we separate, she’ll come after me. If we stick together, at least we can protect each other.”

He hesitated, caught in a tempest of panic and conflict that flickered in his eyes.

And then, as if the universe were sending a signal, a soft birdcall floated in from outside the window.

Three long notes. Two short ones.

A warning.

Lucien’s expression hardened. He moved swiftly to the window, peering out before hastily shutting the curtain, his demeanor shifting to one of grim determination.

“DuBois’s men are here,” he announced, returning to me and enveloping me in a fierce embrace. “Norah, listen to me. They’re taking me somewhere safe—so safe that even you won’t know where it is.”

His words struck me like a bucket of ice water, chilling my veins. “Why?” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest.

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing my lips with a tenderness that felt both comforting and heartbreaking. “To protect you.”

“Eleanor’s influence stretches across all of Paris,” he continued quietly, his voice heavy with concern. “She’s desperate now. If you don’t know where I’m going, she can’t use you to find me. And if I get caught—if I vanish—she’ll have no reason to come after you.”

“Lucien…” I started, but he silenced me with a gentle shake of his head.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, lowering his head to kiss me. The kiss was hot, desperate, and all-consuming, as if he were trying to etch himself into my very being, imprinting his essence into my bones.

“Wait for me,” he breathed against my ear, his voice laced with urgency.

Then, he stepped back, heading for the door.

Outside, several men clad in black tactical gear waited, their expressions unreadable. They spoke not a word. One of them handed Lucien a sealed envelope, a grim token of what was to come.

Lucien turned back to me, slipping the envelope into my hand. “This is the dead drop address and the passcode. It’s how I’ll reach you.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing down the hallway, swallowed by the encroaching darkness of dawn.

Silence enveloped the room, thick and suffocating.

The faint scent of cedar and whiskey still clung to the air, a bittersweet reminder of what had just transpired. But the warmth of his arms was now a distant memory, leaving me feeling hollow and exposed.

A wave of loss and fear crashed over me, heavy and oppressive. I stood alone in the now-empty room, clutching the envelope as if it were the last tangible piece of my reality.

Eleanor would strike soon.

Without Lucien’s protective presence, I was left vulnerable, standing against a monster wielding far too much power.

I needed to act.

I needed someone who could stand up to her—someone she actually feared.

Mateo.

“Help you?” He let out a low laugh, as if the idea were absurd. “Help you crush Eleanor so you can run back to my rival? Nono, do I look like a charity worker?”

“Teo.” I held his gaze, my resolve firm. “Did you forget that afternoon in Spain? I protected you. Now I need you to protect me.”

His smile faltered, a flicker of something deeper crossing his amber eyes—nostalgia, pain, longing, and a hint of something darker.

That afternoon… the little bird music box… the words I shared with him… our only pure connection.

I thought it would be enough.

He scrutinized me for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “Nono… there are many ways to repay a debt.”

His voice softened, then sharpened with an unsettling obsession. “But what I want from you… was never just gratitude.”

He extended his hand toward me, mirroring the gesture he had made on the cruise. “I’ll help you,” he said, “but not as a friend.”

His voice dropped, wrapping around me like velvet-covered steel. “My offer still stands. You become my fiancée.”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Only the future mistress of the Vega family has the power to silence Eleanor. To silence Amélie. This is the only path.”

My heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down on me.

We had come full circle.

No matter how far I ran, he always brought me back to this moment—binding me to him, leaving me with no escape.

“Nono,” he whispered, sensing my hesitation, “don’t look at me like that.”

He wrapped his arms around me, his embrace no longer teasing but possessive, absolute.

His lips brushed against my ear as he murmured, “And to make it believable, you cannot tell Lucien about our deal.”

“Let’s see,” he whispered, his voice dark and hungry, “just how strong his precious trust really is.”

“I want to watch him burn with jealousy and doubt,” he continued, his eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. “I want to see if he can keep his sanity… and prove he’s worthy of you.”