Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 189

Chapter 189

I returned to the studio.

The air inside was still thick and heavy, almost hard to breathe.

The phones, once ringing off the hook, were now completely, unnervingly silent.

2 Finished

My inbox was no longer flooded with orders or collaboration requests. Instead, it was packed with termination notices, one after another, from partners cutting ties.

Irina placed the latest financial report in front of me, her face tight with anger. “The suppliers have temporarily stopped threatening to sue, for now.

But the banks won’t budge. Every single one of our emergency loan applications has been rejected.

They still label Nightingale a ‘high–risk venture.‘ He’s trying to strangle us slowly, Norah. Soon, we won’t even have the cash to make payroll.”

Katarina stubbed out her cigarette with a sharp, frustrated gesture. “I reached out to some small overseas investment firms, new material suppliers… the moment they heard our name, they made excuses and hung up.”

Against the sheer might of the Constantine Group, I felt powerless. Numb.

“Norah, maybe we-” Irina began.

“It’s not time to surrender yet,” I cut her off, my voice sharper than I intended.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

“Madame DuBois? It’s me. Norah.”

At seven that evening, I found myself at an exclusive cocktail party hosted by the Monaco royal family.

This was another center of power in Paris.

And the guest of honor was the other energy titan–the man who had taken over Lucien’s role in the Mediterranean deep–water port negotiations with the Cappe family.

A potential lifeline.

The only one I’d managed to secure through Madame DuBois’s connections.

I wore a simple black dress and stayed in a quiet corner, watching.

Waiting.

Like a hunter studying her prey.

Midway through the party, a painfully familiar figure appeared.

Lucien.

The moment he entered, he commanded the room. He moved through the crowd alone, glass in hand, with an effortless ease. Everyone who spoke to him wore expressions of awe, their voices laced with flattery.

Our eyes met across the room. Just for a second.

His gaze was cold. Detached. As if looking at a complete stranger.

Then, he looked away.

I tightened my grip on my wine glass until my knuckles turned white.

Good. Very good, Lucien.

I forced myself to look away and refocused on my real target–the Cappe family delegation.

The group was led by a man in his forties, surrounded by sharp–eyed associates. Among them was a young woman.

She looked barely twenty, dressed in a well–tailored professional suit.

She stayed in the background, quietly taking notes, almost invisible.

But my instinct told me she wasn’t just an assistant.

For such an important occasion, she seemed too young. And too… quiet.

I kept watching her.

I noticed her subtly pressing a hand to the small of her back now and then.

When a waiter offered champagne, she declined with a small, polite shake of her head.

During the hors d’oeuvres, she instinctively avoided the smoked salmon and prosciutto, selecting only roasted vegetables and plain bread.

My heart gave a sudden, hard leap.

Those small, almost invisible details were terrifyingly familiar.

I had been like that, once.

She’s pregnant.

Just then, I saw the young woman’s face pale slightly. She murmured something to the man leading the delegation, then turned and walked briskly toward the restroom.

This was my chance.

I set down my glass and followed.

The restroom was empty. I walked out of the farthest stall to find her leaning over a sink, dry heaving, her face pale.

I didn’t approach immediately. Instead, I went to the sink beside hers, turned on the tap, and pretended to fix my makeup.

“Are you alright?” I asked softly, catching her eye in the mirror.

She started, looking up, her eyes wide with caution.

I didn’t say more. I simply took a small silver candy tin from my clutch, tipped two mints into my palm, and placed them on the counter next to her.

“These helped me a lot during my first trimester,” I said, offering a gentle smile in the reflection. “I hope you don’t mind the presumption.”

Before she could question or refuse, I turned and walked out.

I spent the rest of the party in my quiet corner, leaving only after it ended.

The moment I slid into the car, my phone rang.

It was Mateo.

“So, my queen? Need your knight to charge the Constantine Group for you?” he joked, his tone light.

“Teo, I need you to look someone up for me,” I said, rubbing my throbbing temples. “In the Monaco Cappe family delegation. There’s a young female assistant.”

A brief silence hung on the other end of the line.

“Nono, your instincts are as sharp as ever.” He paused. “I was already looking into the Cappe family and found some interesting rumors.

The current head, Pierre Cappe, is unmarried, with no children.

The assistant’s name is Daisy.

She’s his non–biological niece, adopted in her childhood.”

“Publicly, she’s his niece,” Mateo’s voice lowered, tinged with intrigue. “But privately… she’s widely believed to be Pierre’s most carefully guarded secret. His lover.”

My breath hitched.

“Nono? What did you find out?”

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