Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

With a sudden, sharp snap, the lock gave way!

“Damn it!” Lucien cursed as he dropped to his knees beside me, swiftly easing my body down onto the floor.

Without wasting a second, he pressed his fingers firmly over my nose, bent forward, and his warm lips covered mine, pushing air forcefully into my lungs.

I gasped, coughing violently as my lungs struggled to take in air. Slowly, the haze clouding my vision began to clear.

As consciousness returned, I became aware of being half-cradled in Lucien’s arms. His grip was strong and protective, his arm wrapped tightly around me, my back resting against his solid chest. Through the damp fabric of my shirt, I could feel the steady, powerful thump of his heartbeat.

“You…” I started, instinctively trying to pull away.

“Don’t move.” His hold tightened. “You nearly… suffocated yourself.”

Gradually, my breathing steadied. I lifted my gaze to meet his intense eyes. “They… have to pay for this!”

Lucien took my hand in his, his voice calm but firm. “If you want revenge, you have to stay alive first.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing calm into my voice.

Pushing myself to steady my nerves, I continued, “Damian’s locked up for now, but the hole he left behind is still gaping. I suspect Serena will try to sell the building as fast as she can, probably at a bargain price just to cover the debts—or worse, take the money and vanish.”

“So, what’s your plan?” Lucien asked, his eyes searching mine.

I met his gaze, a strategy slowly forming in my mind.

The next day, Damian was released on bail at noon.

Rumor had it that Eleanor had paid a hefty sum, both for bail and compensation, to pull her son temporarily out of the sexual assault scandal.

When Serena came to see me again, it was clear they hadn’t given up on Thorn Creative—their golden goose.

After all, Thorn Creative’s design legacy and market value were undeniable.

—

“Norah,” Serena said, linking her arm with mine as if brushing aside our earlier conflicts, “we need your help. Mrs. Medici seems to have some misunderstandings about the family banquet, but I know she’s very interested in that brand.”

“Norah, you speak Italian. I hope you can help us clear her doubts.”

I lowered my head, nervously fiddling with my clothes. “But Serena, I want to help, truly… it’s just that I can barely keep track of my own affairs, let alone business matters. I’m afraid I won’t be much use…”

“No! You can do this, Norah!” Serena interrupted anxiously. “Mrs. Medici admires you! She trusts you! Please, Norah, help me. We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

Her pleading weighed heavily on me. After a long moment of inner struggle, I finally nodded, though reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll try. But I don’t understand business—I can only translate. I can’t promise anything…”

“That’s enough! Thank you, Norah!” Serena’s eyes sparkled with triumph.

—

Mrs. Medici was invited to Serena’s law firm.

She arrived dressed in a crisp white pantsuit that radiated authority and power.

The moment her eyes landed on Damian, disgust flickered across her face.

“Lawyer Serena,” Mrs. Medici began in English, her tone icy, “due to the recent disgraceful conduct of the Constantine family, the Medici family must be extremely cautious about any cooperation with your side.”

She wasted no time, cutting straight to the heart of the matter—Damian’s scandal.

“This concerns the reputation and ethical standards of the Medici family,” she said sharply.

Damian’s face flushed with shame, and Serena quickly stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. “Madam, it’s all a misunderstanding! It’s an isolated incident! Damian has learned his lesson and—”

“Lesson?” Mrs. Medici interrupted coldly, her eyes full of contempt as they fixed on Damian. “Being released on bail is your idea of learning a lesson? The Medici family does not associate with men whose names are already tarnished.”

Her words struck Damian like lashes.

Serena tried to argue, but Mrs. Medici switched back to Italian, signaling the end of the discussion.

Her meaning was clear: she would not entertain any further debate.

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