Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 99

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 99**
**Chapter 99**

**Norah’s POV**

There was no time for contemplation.

My heart raced violently within my chest, a frantic drumbeat as I surveyed the opulent study around me. The only glimmer of hope I clung to was the heavy velvet drapes draping in the corner, their deep hue promising concealment.

With a surge of urgency, I plunged behind them, the thick fabric enveloping me like a protective cocoon.

Pressing my back flat against the cold stone wall, I held my breath, the silence around me thick and suffocating.

The air was heavy with the scent of dust mingled with the faint aroma of old money, a reminder of the wealth that surrounded me.

Creeeak—

The door swung open, its hinges creaking like a tortured soul in agony. I could hear the light, hurried footsteps that echoed against the polished floor—two sets, moving with purpose.

“Hurry up and replace these wilted flowers. Madame finds them upsetting,” a sharp female voice cut through the air, dripping with boredom.

They moved with practiced efficiency, their actions swift and precise.

I could hear the rustle of wrapping paper and the delicate clink of a vase being handled, the mundane sounds of their task contrasting sharply with the tension in my chest.

Then, like a spark igniting dry kindling, the gossip began, eager and animated.

“Hey, it’s almost a fight out there!”

“Between who?”

“Who else? That Veyron princess and the Spanish man! I saw it myself—Miss Veyron threw a full glass of red wine right in Mr. Mateo’s face!”

“Oh my god! She’s bold! Madame must be furious.”

“Her face turned green. If the butler hadn’t stopped her, she would’ve torn into Miss Veyron right then…”

The chaos Mateo had promised was simmering down, but I knew I had to get back now. Panic coiled in my stomach like a cold snake, tightening its grip.

I pressed myself even tighter against the wall, my palms slick with sweat, each heartbeat echoing in my ears.

1/4

I took shallow, silent breaths, desperately trying to blend into the shadows.

Finally, the rustling ceased. The maids’ footsteps faded into the distance, and the door clicked shut, sealing me in a heavy silence.

I waited, counting the seconds, my ears straining for any sound. Nothing. Slowly, I slipped out from behind the curtains, my legs stiff with tension and fear.

I scanned the room—every item seemed untouched, as if time had paused while I hid. Wiping my clammy hands on my dress, I cracked the door open, peering into the hallway. It was clear. Like a shadow, I slipped out and retraced my steps toward the reception area, my pulse drumming wildly in my ears.

When I returned, the air buzzed with scandalized whispers. Though the commotion had settled, an electric energy still crackled in the atmosphere.

I spotted Amélie immediately, surrounded by a flock of society women clucking like worried hens, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

She was angrily dabbing at the dark wine stains on her gown, her face a mask of humiliation and rage, a sight that made my heart twist.

Meanwhile, Mateo stood apart, already changed into a fresh suit, the picture of calm. He held a new glass of amber liquor, engaged in conversation with an older gentleman, as if the earlier chaos had never occurred.

When our eyes met across the room, a slow, wicked smile spread across his face, sending a thrill down my spine.

He raised his glass slightly in a silent salute, a gesture that made my heart flutter.

I nodded back, trying to maintain an air of composure despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

The stench of garbage and decay assaulted my senses, a stark contrast to the elegance of the evening.

My assailant dragged me deeper into the shadows, my heels catching on broken pavement, each stumble sending pain shooting through my ankle. But he didn’t relent, pulling me forward with relentless determination.

Shoving aside a stack of damp crates, he pushed me into a narrow gap, the rough wood pressing against my back.

In an instant, his solid body was pressed against mine, pinning me to the wall, his presence overwhelming.

Then his scent enveloped me—cedar, whiskey, and something wild. It was unmistakably him.

He tore off his mask, and the moonlight carved out his harsh, handsome features, the face I had thought about day and night, haunting my thoughts.

“Lucien…” I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper.

But before I could utter another word, his lips crashed onto mine with a ferocity that left me breathless. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a claim—wild, furious, filled with desperate longing. He consumed me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as if trying to pour all the days of fear and jealousy into that one brutal kiss.

3/4

One hand fisted in my hair, holding me still, while the other arm locked around my waist like a vise, so tight I felt as if he meant to crush us into one.

“Lucien… wait… It’s not safe here,” I gasped, pushing weakly against his chest, trying to create some distance.

He only held me tighter, his body trembling with unrestrained emotion. He buried his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin, igniting a fire within me.

“I know,” he rasped, his voice raw with urgency.

A moment passed, heavy and still, the world outside fading away. Then he spoke again, his voice a command and a plea intertwined:

“Come with me.”