Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“You’re handling this flawlessly, Aunt Giulia,” I said warmly, slipping my arm through Mrs. Medici’s as we walked side by side.

“Yes, Aunt,” I added, feeling a surge of gratitude.

Giulia Medici had been my mother’s dearest companion during their university days in Florence. Over the years, she had become like a second mother to me, a trusted friend and confidante.

“That price still makes me feel a little guilty,” Aunt Giulia admitted with a mischievous wink.

“To deal with wolves, you need a rifle,” I replied with a cool edge in my voice. “Besides, that magnificent office building in Milan? The keys are no longer in his possession.”

Aunt Giulia’s eyes sparkled with affection as she looked at me. “Thanks to your brilliant efforts, we managed to secure this Milan gem at an incredibly favorable price.”

I couldn’t help but admire the thought of that spectacular penthouse—bathed in perfect light, boasting breathtaking views, and offering complete privacy. “Looking at that stunning top floor, I wonder if a talented designer, tired of the chaos in Paris, might consider a safer, more prestigious, and fully owned studio here?”

Aunt Giulia gently squeezed my hand. “I’ll reserve that top floor for you, my dear. Think of it as a small gift from Aunt Giulia, to thank you for your exceptional help this time.”

“Aunt!” I exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

At that moment, the side door of the church creaked open softly.

Lucien stepped inside, extending his hand politely towards Aunt Giulia. “Mrs. Medici, good afternoon.”

His eyes briefly landed on our joined hands, but there was no surprise—only a quiet understanding.

Aunt Giulia’s gaze flickered between Lucien and me before she gave me a meaningful nod and quietly left.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Lucien’s voice echoed through the empty church, laced with unmistakable pride. “It appears our Thorn Creative queen has emerged victorious.”

“I think you’re right,” I replied softly.

Before I could say more, Lucien’s phone rang.

He answered, but before he could speak, a familiar voice came through the line. “Lucien, listen—tonight, the usual spot. Let’s go for a run! Bring Norah! We need to celebrate… well, celebrate me getting out of trouble!”

Lucien glanced at me, and I gave a small nod.

“Okay,” he said, his tone flat and unreadable as he ended the call.

—

8 Pearls

The evening air hung heavy with the scent of pine along the winding mountain road that bordered Maple White Dew Forest. The peaceful dusk was shattered by the roar of a powerful engine.

At the base of the mountain, Damian’s flashy, bright yellow Aventador sat arrogantly on the starting line, its sleek body gleaming under the fading light.

Leaning halfway out of the driver’s side window, Damian gripped the steering wheel with one hand, while his other hand wrapped possessively around Serena’s waist. His fingers traced slow, restless patterns along her bare thigh.

“Baby, hold on tight!” Serena clung to Damian like a vine, her eyes glazed with an obsessive intensity.

Lucien and I stood beside his all-black Valkyrie, the contrast between the two cars stark.

Damian whistled loudly in our direction. “Hey, Lucien! What’s the holdup? Scared?” He deliberately revved his engine, the exhaust booming like thunder through the valley.

Lucien ignored the taunt, opened the passenger door for me, and I slid inside, tightening my seatbelt.

“The rules?” Lucien asked, his voice cold and steady.

“The usual,” Damian replied with a cocky grin. “First one to the lookout point at the top wins! Loser buys the most expensive champagne tower in all of Paris! And Norah, don’t cry if you lose!” he added with a mocking laugh.

“Scared?” Lucien’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

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