Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 113

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 113**

**Lucien’s POV**

The remnants of my life lay strewn across the floor, a chaotic scatter of papers that mirrored the turmoil in my mind. I had hoped that by returning everything, we could wipe the slate clean, embark on a fresh beginning. But Norah had other plans. “Get out,” she had said, her voice a mixture of pain and finality.

The drive away from that castle was a blur, an unmemorable journey overshadowed by the weight of my thoughts.

As I returned to the mansion, the familiar sight of Mother awaited me in the parlor, her presence as commanding as ever. Amélie, the epitome of compliance, sat beside her, her posture rigid, as if molded by the expectations placed upon her.

“Mother,” I rasped, my voice rough as gravel, carrying the heaviness of my heart.

“Lucien. You’re back,” she acknowledged, placing her delicate teacup down with a soft clink. Her expression was a mask, betraying nothing of her thoughts. “It’s done?”

“It’s done,” I replied, my tone flat. “She has everything.”

“Good,” she said, her approval almost chilling. Her gaze shifted to Amélie, who sat there like a statue, waiting for the next command. “Amélie has been a comfort during these trying times. Without her family, I would have crumbled. We owe them a debt of honor.”

“Fine,” I retorted, each word falling like stones. “But I won’t marry her.”

At my declaration, Amélie’s body stiffened; hurt flickered in her eyes like a dying flame.

“Lucien,” Mother’s voice turned steely, cutting through the tension. “This is not a request. We need Veyron’s backing. Their influence and power are crucial for the company’s future. You need a wife who can navigate that world. Amélie is the only option.”

“But Norah—”

“Norah?” she interrupted, her tone sharp enough to cut. “She is strong. Remarkable, much like I was in my youth. But she has Mateo Vega behind her now. The mafia. Do you honestly believe she requires your protection? Or that a man like him would allow it?”

Her words pierced through the fog of my denial, twisting the knife of truth I had been avoiding. She was right. What could I offer Norah now? Nothing of value.

I met my mother’s gaze, swallowing the bitterness that threatened to rise. “Alright,” I conceded, feeling the weight of inevitability settle on my shoulders.

—

The following day, Amélie moved into my apartment, her presence a constant reminder of my choices.

I found myself driving to the Thornbird ruins, where the air was thick with the scent of fresh concrete and determination.

Work had already commenced; a new skeleton of steel was rising defiantly from the ashes of its predecessor. Workers bustled about, their movements a blur of activity against the backdrop of progress.

And there she was—Norah. A white hard hat perched on her head, she was engaged in a heated discussion with a foreman, her finger jabbing at blueprints with a fierce intensity that made my heart ache.

She looked thinner than I remembered, but her eyes—those bright, fierce eyes—burned with a light that drew me in like a moth to a flame.

I remained in the car, a silent observer, feeling like a voyeur to her life. I watched her throughout the day, captivated by the way she animatedly gestured as she spoke, how she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and the weary slump of her shoulders when she finally took a moment to rest.

I was there from dawn until the sky turned a brilliant orange, lost in my thoughts and memories.

“Luen. I found you,” Amélie’s voice shattered my reverie, pulling me back to reality.

She approached, holding a food container, her eyes following my gaze. “Still watching her? Luen, your mother is right. She’s moved on.”

I ignored her, my heart racing as I started the engine, the roar of the car drowning out her words.

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