Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 168

Chapter 168

Norah’s Pov

Finished

The next morning, I walked back into the studio. Pushing the door open, I found a tall figure already waiting inside. Lucien.

He stood by the window, a paper bag from a top Parisian restaurant in his hand. When he heard me, he turned, tension written all over his face.

“I had them make the breakfast you like,” he said, his voice low.

I ignored him, dropped my bag on the desk.

He came over, set the bag down gently, and started unpacking delicate containers. The air filled with the buttery smell of fresh croissants and rich coffee.

I grabbed a document, trying to focus, but my mind was everywhere. Out of habit, I reached for the coffee with my right hand–and winced as a sharp pain shot through the bandage. Swearing under my breath, I switched to my left.

But a large hand got there first. Lucien picked up the cup himself. He didn’t hand it to me. He held it right to my lips.

Just then, Irina and Katarina walked in. They stopped dead at the door, arms crossed, looks on their faces that screamed, Well, well, well.

I glared at him but leaned in and took a sip. The warm liquid slid down my throat, calming a flicker of irritation I hadn’t even fully acknowledged.

“The sketches?” I asked, shifting into work mode.

“You scattered them last night. I had Sophie reorganize-” Irina started, but Lucien cut her off by crouching down and gathering the pile of designs I’d swept to the floor.

A vein throbbed in my temple. He was stacking them all together inspiration sketches, structural breakdowns, final drafts.

“Lucien! Stop touching those!” I snapped.

He froze, looking up with genuine confusion.

I strode over, crouched down, snatched the stack from his hands, and started sorting them myself, struggling to keep my cool. “This one–scrap. Toss it. This is the first draft of the Lolita line. Archive it. This is the final structural plan for the Phoenix series.”

He watched me fumble one–handed, silent for a beat, then reached out. “Let me.”

“You?” I couldn’t hide the skepticism.

He didn’t answer, just held out his hand, stubborn.

I sighed and started directing him. “This one, left side. That one, right. The one with the lace detail-

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Chapter 168

separate pile.”

He listened, followed each order, a faint smile touching his lips.

Then the phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID: DuPont Textile Mill.

“Hah, that old fox,” Irina snorted. “What does he want now?”

37

Finished

I hit speakerphone. “Miss Hawthorne,” an oily voice came through, “that batch of exclusive silk… might be delayed. Orders are backed up. Production line’s full.”

I frowned. “The contract states top priority. If the fabric is late, our entire couture release is at risk.”

“Ah, business is full of surprises. How about… you add a little extra, and I’ll see if I can squeeze you in?”

“We have a contract. You’re breaching it.”

“Breaching? Such strong words. I heard the Moreau Group is very interested. Their offer is triple yours. Highest bidder wins.”

“This is Lucien Constantine.”

His voice cut in calmly from behind me. I hadn’t even seen him move!

The line went dead silent. A few seconds later, a stammering voice returned, “C–Cons… Constantine, sir! A misunderstanding! The fabric is ready! This afternoon–no, immediately! I’ll deliver it myself!”

Lucien ended the call without another word.

Irina and Katarina stared, dumbfounded. I looked at him. His influence had clearly grown. A complicated feeling twisted in my chest.

In under half an hour, Mr. DuPont himself showed up, trailed by employees carrying rolls of velvet- wrapped fabric. “Mr. Constantine! Miss Hawthorne! A misunderstanding, I swear! The finest quality!” He wore an obsequious smile.

Lucien didn’t even look at him, just waved a hand. DuPont scurried out.

That afternoon, we started the most critical part: creating the sample. The newly delivered Italian silk satin, sheer as cicada wings, lay spread across the large cutting table.

I reached for the heavy fabric shears with my left hand.

“I’ll do it,” Lucien said,.getting there first.

“Are you insane?! That fabric costs more than your sports car!” Katarina shrieked.

Lucien ignored her. He walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around me, his chest pressing against my back. He held the shears above the fabric. “Teach me.”

“Put those down! I’ll do it!” Irina stepped forward.

“I don’t need you. She has me,” Lucien said, his gaze locked on me.

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20.26 wed,

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