Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 106

Norah’s POV

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Lucien’s movements suddenly froze, the weight of his body above me pausing for a split second.

I shoved him away on instinct, hands fumbling to tug my dress back down over my thighs. My face was burning–half from fading desire, half from the raw shock and humiliation of being caught.

Luc

on, I.

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led off the bed in one fluid motion, grabbed his shirt from the floor and shrugged it

the red scratch marks I’d left across his back.

Rage and frustration flashed in his eyes at being interrupted, mixed with an embarrassed edge he couldn’t hide.

Mateo was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching us like he was enjoying a private show.

“Mateo, I…”

I tried to explain, but the words died in

my

throat.

What could I even say?

That we just got carried away?

Here, in the enemy’s house, while we were supposed to be hunting for evidence that could decide life and death?

Mateo’s gaze fixed on me, his tone low and mocking, with a hint of possessiveness.

“My fiancée, you’re awfully enthusiastic in another man’s bed. I might get jealous.”

Fiancée?

Lucien’s whole body went rigid.

He turned his head slowly, staring at me as if he’d been punched in the gut. Shock, hurt, and betrayal crashed through his eyes like a storm.

“Fiancée?” he repeated, his voice hoarse, raw with disbelief.

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

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It was a deal. A performance for Eleanor.

But it was a secret I couldn’t tell him.

“This isn’t the time,” Mateo cut in sharply.

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He checked his watch. “Eleanor can’t be stalled much longer. Ten minutes at most. Get what we came for and get out.”

My mind snapped back into focus.

The

The missing pages that could finally drag Eleanor down.

Lucien sucked in a deep breath, forcing every emotion down behind a wall of ice.

“I’ll draw them away,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm.

“No!” I protested instantly. “She’s waiting for you to show yourself. If you’re exposed now, you’ll never get out again!”

“Let him go.” Mateo’s hand closed around my arm, holding me back.

Lucien glanced at me one last time.

His eyes said everything he didn’t voice: I’ll be waiting for your explanation.

Then he turned and walked out of the room without another word, heading straight toward the noise downstairs.

The door closed behind him.

Only Mateo and I remained.

He bent down lazily and picked up the black lace panties Lucien had ripped off me earlier, still lying by the bed.

He lifted the small scrap of fabric to his nose and inhaled lightly, then folded it and slipped it into the pocket of his suit jacket.

Heat shot to my face. The emptiness under my skirt made me painfully aware of every movement, every breath. Shame and anger tangled in my chest.

“Hurry up,” Mateo said curtly. He didn’t mention what he’d just done, but the cold tension rolling off him said clearly: this isn’t over.

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I forced myself to push everything down.

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Lucien was out there risking everything to buy us time. I couldn’t afford to fall apart.

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With him pulling most of the guards and Eleanor’s attention away, the old Constantine mansion finally had a fragile, precious gap in its defenses.

Matco and I moved quickly through the silent corridors.

From the old servant Mateo had bribed, we’d gotten one useful piece of information:

Befor the old Mr. Constantine was sent to the nursing home, Eleanor used to visit his room

le day and “read something” to him.

evc

And every time she finished, he would fly into a rage–while she stood there, looking satisfied and pleased with herself.

“She enjoyed it,” Mateo had said flatly. “Like a victor savoring her prize and her enemy’s pain.”

That sick woman.

If those missing diary pages still existed, Eleanor was the type to keep them close, just to bask in them.

“We start here.” Mateo pulled me into Eleanor’s master bedroom.

The heavy scent of her perfume floated in the air–sharp, cloying, and suffocating, just like th woman herself.

We split up and began to search.

Dressing table?

Nothing.

Nightstand drawers?

Empty.

My heart started to sink.

Had we been wrong? Or had she hidden them somewhere even more twisted?

My gaze landed on the large, ornate wall above the headboard.

A row of photo frames hung there–mostly pictures of Damian at different ages, and formal family portraits of the Constantines.

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But right in the middle, there was a slightly smaller silver frame. The metal edges were worn, unlike the others, and what was inside didn’t look like a photo at all.

I hurried over, climbed up onto the nightstand, and leaned in for a better look.

When I saw what was inside, my breath hitched.

It wasn’t a photograph.

It was several yellowed pages, pressed flat behind glass.

The

writing on them-

Lucien’s mother’s diary.

Eleanor, that monster, hadn’t destroyed those pages.

She’d had them framed.

And hung them above her bed, where she could stare at them every night.

I could almost see her lying here in the dark, staring up at those lines written in pain and despair, smiling with twisted satisfaction.

“Found it!” I called out, my voice shaking with anger and raw relief.

I grabbed my phone and snapped clear pictures of every page, making sure not to miss a si word.

The moment I finished the last shot, chaos exploded downstairs–shouts, screams, hurried running.

“Move!” Mateo’s expression hardened. He yanked me down from the nightstand and dragged me toward the balcony.

Out in the garden below, I caught a glimpse of Lucien’s figure weaving between the trees, leading a pack of guards farther and farther away.

Mateo wrapped an arm tight around my waist and vaulted over the balcony rail with me, landing on the grass below.

We hit the ground and ran, cutting across the lawn toward the wooded area on the far side of the estate.

I clutched my phone so hard my fingers hurt. Inside it was everything we needed to shove Eleanor straight into hell.

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My heart pounded against my ribs–part fear from the jump, part fierce, wild joy from finally getting the evidence.

And beneath it all, worry for Lucien.

And the echo of what we’d almost done upstairs before Mateo walked in.

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