Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 138

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 138**

With a sudden, fierce tug, she shot out her hand, gripping Lucien’s arm like a vice, pulling him back down to her side. “You’ll hurt me,” she said, her voice dripping with a sickly-sweet triumph, a smile that was both victorious and venomous aimed directly at me.

“Norah, you’re here!” she exclaimed, her tone bright yet laced with artifice. “What a delight it is to see you.”

She then turned her attention to Lucien, her expression shifting to a carefully crafted pout. “Luen, darling, remember your promise? You were going to fetch my new prescription from the doctor. Go on now. Norah can keep me company.”

Lucien’s gaze flickered between her and me, a silent war raging within his eyes. I could sense his turmoil; the weight of the decision hung heavy in the air. Ultimately, he succumbed. With one last, lingering look that felt like a farewell, he stood and exited the room, the door closing behind him with a definitive thud.

In an instant, the sweet facade she wore crumbled, revealing a darker, more sinister truth beneath.

“Luen is just so worried about me,” she began, her voice transforming into a lazy, satisfied purr that sent chills down my spine. “He won’t let anyone else lift a finger. It’s really all his fault, you know. If he hadn’t confided in me at the fight club about all the… unspeakable things Damian did to you… I wouldn’t have been so terrified. So when that monster showed up, I instinctively threw myself in front of Luen without a second thought.”

Ice coursed through my veins, my heart constricting painfully in my chest.

He told her. He had shared everything about Damian with her. He gave her that power over me.

Amélie reclined against the pillows, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she settled into her self-made throne of faux innocence. “Luen’s been a complete mess these last few days. He holds me so tightly, as if he fears I might disappear. He said the hospital sheets were far too cold for me, that he needed to stay and keep me warm… But why am I sharing all this with you?”

Her eyelashes fluttered as she feigned innocence, yet every word she spoke was a carefully aimed needle, twisting deeper into my skin.

As I looked at her smug expression, a profound weariness seeped into my bones, as if I were carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Lucien returned, his presence a storm cloud in the already charged atmosphere.

Amélie exaggeratedly attempted to sit up, gasping dramatically, collapsing back onto the pillows with a soft whimper of pain. “Luen,” she cried, her face a carefully painted masterpiece of fragile suffering. “My shoulder… I can’t move it. But the dress… the final fitting must happen now, or there won’t be time for alterations.” Her eyes, sharp and glinting with mischief, locked onto mine. “Norah… you’ll help me into it, won’t you?”

It was a trap, laid out bare for all to see.

Lucien’s brow furrowed in concern, his eyes searching mine for an answer, a silent question hanging in the air between us.

I approached the bedside, feeling the weight of the moment. Amélie lifted a hand, a queen granting permission, and I reached for the sash of her silk gown, my fingers trembling slightly.

As the fabric slithered down her shoulders, my breath caught in my throat.

There, just beneath her collarbone, peeking from the edge of the white bandage, was a mottled patch of purple and red—a bruise, unmistakably the fading mark of a lover’s kiss.

As she shifted her legs, another bruise flashed on her inner thigh, fresh and vivid—a testament to passion’s cruel brand.

I fought to keep my hands steady, forcing down the tremors that threatened to betray me.

I lifted the heavy wedding gown, helping her slide her arms into the sleeves, each movement feeling like a betrayal to my own heart.

As I smoothed the bodice against her, she leaned in closer, her breath hot and vile against my ear. “You saw the pictures. Didn’t you?”

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