Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 87

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 87**

**Chapter 87**

**Norah’s POV**

“Luen!”

The sound of Amélie’s voice sliced through the evening air, sharp and laced with irritation. It was as if the night itself recoiled at her tone.

In an instant, I pushed Lucien away, my cheeks aflame with embarrassment and anger.

She stood a few paces from us, two glasses of champagne held delicately in her hands. Her smile was anything but genuine—tight and forced, as if it were a mask she wore to hide her true feelings.

“I found you,” she announced, her voice dripping with an artificial sweetness that made my skin crawl. It was clear she had reigned in her emotions, slipping back into the polished persona expected in social circles.

With a practiced grace, she approached and extended one glass toward me. “Norah, I truly appreciate your assistance with Luen earlier. This is for you.”

I stared at the glass, refusing to take it. Instead, I leveled a look at her, my expression thick with mockery.

She seemed unfazed by my rejection. With a flick of her wrist, she handed the other glass to Lucien, then entwined her arm with his in a way that felt far too intimate for my liking.

“Luen, I just heard something from my mother,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “About your mother.”

At her words, Lucien froze beside me, an invisible tension crackling in the air.

“She mentioned that before your mother vanished, she appeared to be searching for something. Would you like to come over there and talk?”

I recognized the bait she dangled before him. Any hint regarding his mother was a lure he would struggle to resist.

“Go ahead,” I said, my voice deceptively magnanimous, even to my own ears. “Important matters first.”

But deep inside, I was screaming for him to refuse her, to stay by my side.

Lucien cast me a complex glance, a silent apology flickering in his eyes. Then, as if entranced, he allowed her to lead him away.

I watched them retreat, my chest constricting painfully. Gripping the glass Amélie had left behind, I downed its contents in a single, fiery gulp.

Mateo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, Norah… what will you do now?”

“Charge over there and drag him out of another woman’s bedroom?” I snapped, the thought igniting a fire within me.

“Or…” he suggested, his tone low and enticing, “stay here, and let me reveal Eleanor’s secret.”

From across the room, I noticed Lucien shake his head, as if he were struggling to regain his bearings.

Amélie immediately rushed to steady him, slipping her arm around his waist, her touch possessive as she began leading him away.

Toward the guest rooms.

My fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, the pain grounding me in reality.

I turned to face Mateo, meeting his steady gaze, which was filled with a mix of mischief and concern.

“Speak,” I commanded, my voice gravelly and low. “What is Eleanor’s trump card?”