Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 61

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 61**

Norah’s POV

As I blinked awake, the soft morning light streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. I turned my head slightly to find Lucien lying beside me, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that made my heart flutter.

“Awake?” he asked, his voice a gentle murmur that wrapped around me like a cozy blanket.

I instinctively nestled deeper into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him. It was a comfort I craved, a sanctuary amidst the chaos.

“Does your wound still hurt?” I asked softly, my fingers brushing against the bandages on his shoulder, the rough fabric contrasting against his smooth skin.

“Not at all.” He took my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my knuckles that sent warmth flooding through me. “With you here, all I feel is happiness.”

His straightforward affection made a blush creep across my cheeks, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in his gaze.

I studied his face, tracing the remnants of bruises that still marred his skin, the stark white bandages on his arm a painful reminder of the fire. Memories surged back—flames licking at the night sky, thick smoke choking the air, and the way he had rushed in without a second thought, risking everything for me.

Just as I was about to voice my thoughts, the shrill ring of his phone sliced through the moment. Lucien glanced at the screen, his expression shifting to one of resolve as he put it on speaker.

“Boss, we found something. The studio fire was arson. There were traces of accelerant on site. According to an informant, Eleanor’s people hired a team of professional arsonists through underground channels.”

A chill ran down my spine. So it was her, after all.

“Do we have proof?” Lucien’s voice turned icy, the warmth of our earlier moment evaporating.

“They were careful. All deals used encrypted, untraceable channels, and money was laundered through offshore accounts. Worst of all, the arsonists disappeared after receiving the final sum. Right now, there’s no direct evidence linking it to Eleanor.”

The call ended, and the hospital room was engulfed in an oppressive silence.

“That old fox—always so meticulous,” Lucien muttered, his voice taut with barely contained fury.

“Lucien, we can’t wait any longer,” I urged, sitting up and meeting his gaze with determination. “Legal methods won’t work against her. We have to fight her on her own terms.”

He intertwined his fingers with mine, his grip firm and reassuring. “What do you have in mind?”

I took a deep breath, formulating my thoughts. “First, we take down Damian—cut off one of Eleanor’s key supporters.”

He nodded, urging me to continue.

“We keep pretending to be estranged. The more disappointed I seem with you, the less Eleanor will suspect our alliance.”

I noticed a flicker of reluctance in his eyes, a shadow of doubt that made my heart ache.

“Let me handle Damian. I’ll turn him into a weapon against Eleanor,” he insisted, a fierce determination in his tone.

“No. I don’t want you facing him alone.” His frown deepened, a clear sign of his concern.

I leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on his jaw, hoping to soothe his worries. “Relax. Damian’s trying to win me over with old feelings. He won’t force anything. I promise I’ll be careful.”

“Fine. I’ll keep digging into the psychoactive drug line.” A flash of cold anger ignited in his eyes. “Eleanor wants to use Katarina to control me? Then I’ll play along. That way, I can ask to bring Katarina to see my father.”

We exchanged a knowing look, both of us fully understanding the gravity of our plan.

Realizing he had revealed too much, he quickly shifted the conversation.

“Actually, the group isn’t doing well either. She’s been desperate for cash flow—too busy to interfere with us.”

“What’s going on, Damian? Is there anything I can do?” My heart raced at the thought of helping him, of being part of something bigger.

“You’re still so kind.” He sighed heavily, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “There’s a big hole in the accounts. She’s fighting for a government-led real estate project that’s crucial for the group.”

“If I can secure it, it won’t just solve the crisis—it’ll strengthen my position on the board. Then I can help you rebuild your studio.”

He looked at me, hope flickering in his eyes.

“But Norah, this project involves government connections. Only major players are competing. If you could ask Madame Clémentine to help… I heard Minister Villard’s wife is close to her. They’ll both be at the Royal Golf Invitational this weekend.”

My expression faltered, uncertainty creeping in, yet inside, I felt a spark of determination.

“I can try. I’m not sure if I can help.”

“Just trying is enough! Leave the rest to me! If it works, my mother will have to accept you.” His words tumbled out quickly, as if he feared I might change my mind.

I lowered my head, a faint smile playing on my lips, though it masked my true feelings.

I didn’t need Eleanor’s acceptance.

What I truly wanted was to see her brought low, confessing to the destruction she had wrought upon my life, my dreams, my studio.