Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Norah’s Perspective

Lucien’s gaze was intense as he studied me carefully.

I casually flicked my hair over my shoulder and said, “It’s just a few minor issues—I can manage them on my own.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

I withdrew my hand from his grasp and took a step back, steadying myself. “Positive. But tell me, since when did you start playing bodyguard?”

He parted his lips as if to reply, but no words came out.

***

The dinner party had been only a partial success; though I had made some progress, I still needed to win over my teacher, Mrs. Clémentine.

The following morning, I drove myself to the outskirts of the city, where her estate stood behind tall iron gates.

I waited outside, my heart pounding with a mix of hope and anxiety.

After a while, the butler appeared and coldly informed me, “Madam says she does not wish to see that useless student.”

I had expected her refusal, but the sting was no less sharp.

I handed the butler a small black box containing some clothes. “Please tell her this is my response.”

***

Back in my apartment, the faint scent of whiskey lingered in the air.

Lucien was leaning casually against the bar, scrolling through some files with a cigar balanced between his fingers.

“I sent Damian a little gift,” he said without looking up.

Curious, I kicked off my heels and asked, “What kind of gift?”

He finally met my eyes, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Norah, if I tell you, how do you plan to repay me?”

I stared at him for a moment, then smiled slyly.

Barefoot, I walked toward him, slowly unbuttoning my shirt as I closed the distance.

***

The fire burning in Lucien’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in just a fraction.

As my collar slipped down, revealing my bare shoulders and chest, Lucien accidentally knocked over the whiskey glass and cigar on the table, their scents mingling in the air.

I halted, hastily buttoning my shirt back up and turning away. “Forget it. I don’t need your help right now.”

I headed toward the bedroom, but before I could reach it, Lucien suddenly stood and spun me around, pressing me firmly against the wall, trapping me in his arms.

“Why do you think?” he replied enigmatically.

***

I couldn’t tell whether Lucien’s intervention against Damian came from genuine concern for me or if it was simply another calculated move in his own game—a trade of interests.

For the next three days, I locked myself away in the studio, pouring all my energy into my work.

After adjusting the lighting for the seventh time, Ana, the lead model, stepped out wearing the final gown.

Sophie, holding a tablet, gasped in awe. “It’s breathtaking. The media will go crazy over this.”

Seeing the perfect result, a collective sigh of relief passed through us.

***

But the next morning, that fragile calm shattered.

The studio door burst open, and Sophie rushed in, collapsing in front of my design table, her face pale and eyes wide with shock.

“Norah, it’s terrible. Ana was hit by a motorcycle on her way home last night. Her leg is broken, and the doctor says she’ll have to stay in bed for at least three months.”

Without my main model, how could the show possibly go on?

The coffee cup in my hand slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor.