Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 195

Revenge Amnesia Upgraded to His Brother

Chapter 195

Norah’s POV

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95

Finished

The private jet touched down on the airstrip of the Cappe family’s Mediterranean estate. As I stepped out, the sea–salted air wrapped around me. And there he was–Lucien.

He stood waiting, dressed in an off–white linen suit, the sun casting a golden halo around him. He looked like a prince from some old painting–elegant, untouchable, perfectly composed. Distant.

“Welcome to the creative camp, Norah,” he said, his voice smooth and formal.

Irina and Katarina exchanged a look behind me. Their eyes swept over the palace–like villa, the manicured gardens, the unobstructed sea view, then landed on Lucien’s impeccably professional demeanor. I didn’t need to turn around to feel their synchronized eye–rolls.

Lucien had arranged a standalone villa for our team.

Sea–facing, every window a postcard. When the butler led me to the top–floor suite, I stopped in the doorway.

The room smelled of white tea incense–my favorite.

Soft cashmere rugs underfoot, silk bedding I recognized as custom–made, and in the bathroom, the same niche bath oils I’d used three years ago in his

apartment.

Every detail was a carefully placed landmine.

At the welcome dinner, Lucien didn’t push. He played the perfect business partner, glass of wine in hand, discussing market strategy, design concepts, and promotional channels with calm precision.

His cool professionalism felt like a wall—as if all our fierce arguments, painful entanglements, and raw confrontations had never happened.

“I heard that new oil tycoon from South America bought the entire building next to Nightingale’s Dubai flagship store,” Irina remarked lazily during the meal, swirling her wine. Her gaze drifted pointedly toward Lucien. “Just for a chance to meet you, Norah. Your charm really is a force of nature.”

Lucien’s knife stilled against his plate.

He looked up, a polite smile gracing his lips.

“Is that so? Norah has always deserved the best.”

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Chapter 195

95

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Finished

His voice was even, but I saw the white–knuckled grip he had on his cutlery.

After dinner, I excused myself for air and found solitude in the estate’s vast library. Floor–to- ceiling mahogany shelves held the scent of old paper and ink.

I pulled a book at random, trying to quiet my mind.

“Do you like it here?”

His voice, low and magnetic, came from behind me. I stiffened but didn’t turn.

Lucien moved past me, his arm brushing a shelf as he reached for a heavy, leather–bound volume.

He opened it to a marked page and began to read, his voice a soft, haunting cadence that could make any woman lose her footing.

I am a desperate man

Words without echoes

Losing everything

Having nothing

You are the final cable

Holding my last longing.

You are the final rose on my barren land.

The poem was beautiful. He read it beautifully. But it wasn’t a gift; it was a test.

He closed the book, his deep eyes settling on me, seeming to see through every disguise and defense I had. “Some things you think are lost… if you search with your heart, you can always find them again. Don’t you agree, Norah?”

I placed my book back on the shelf. “The poem is lovely. A pity I’m too tired to appreciate it.” I walked past him, feeling the heat of his gaze burning into my back with every step.

That night, the Mediterranean weather turned violent. A fierce storm lashed against the villa, wind and rain whipping the windows. Thunder cracked the sky open.

I woke from a nightmare, heart hammering, skin slick with cold sweat. In the dream, Lucien

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Chapter 195

had found Leo and Luna.

He smiled as he told me they were Constantines, that they had to return to him.

Finished

Then he took them away, right in front of me. Their cries of “Mommy!” echoed, and I couldn’t reach them…

I threw off the covers, stumbled to the living room for water, and saw him through the large window–a silhouette in the storm–drenched garden.

Lucien.

No umbrella. Just a thin black shirt, soaked through, clinging to his frame. He stood motionless in the downpour, alone and vulnerable, like a wounded beast left out in the wild.

My heart twisted.

I was about to close the curtains, to force myself not to look, when—

BANG!

The estate plunged into absolute darkness. A deafening crack of thunder exploded right overhead, so loud it felt physical.

Darkness. Roaring noise.

Suddenly, I was back in that cold warehouse–the glint of an iron pipe, the cruel smiles of the kidnappers. Suppressed terror surged up like a tide, swallowing me whole.

A scream tore from my throat. I covered my head, curling into a ball in the corner, shaking uncontrollably.

Footsteps approached in the dark.

Don’t come closer… Don’t touch me…

I looked

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