Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 139

orah’s Perspective

The Veyron family’s private estate was a fortress on the wedding day.

The lawn was a sea of white roses, flown in fresh from Holland.

This was Amélie Veyron’s victory stage.

I was escorted directly to the bride’s private lounge.

Amélie was already wearing the wedd“Norah, you’re here.” She sat before the mirror, a victor’s smile spreading across her face as she saw me. “Look. Luen has impeccable taste. This dress is perfect on me.”

I stepped forward and silently adjusted the intricate lace on her skirt.

“You know what? Luen didn’t sleep at all last night. He was so… excited.” She leaned close, her voice dropping to a low, gloating whisper. “He said he’s been waiting for this day forever. That I’m the most beautiful bride he’ll ever see.”

I kept my eyes down, saying nothing, just smoothing the final diamond fringe.

“All done,” I said, standing up.

As I turned to leave, she suddenly hugged me from behind..

“Norah, thank you.”

A strangely sweet scent washed over me. Alarm bells screamed in my head. I held my breath, tried to pull away–but it was too late.

A soaked cloth clamped over my nose and mouth.

Mmph!

I fought with everything I had, blocking my view.

Through the lace, I could see the grand wedding unfolding on the lawn.

The wedding march swelled.

There was Lucien, standing at the end of the red but the chemical smell flooded my senses. My consciousness frayed, my limbs turned to water, and darkness swallowed me whole.

I woke up strapped to a wheelchair, a heavy veilcarpet, dressed in a pristine white tuxedo. His expression was unreadable.

Robert Veyron, smiling like the old fox he was, walked Amélie slowly toward him.

Amélie’s face glowed with triumphant happiness.

Lucien took her hand from her father.

In that moment, my heart felt like it was being crushed. I couling dress I had designed–a sacred white gown with a high, vintage lace collar that made her look like a medieval saint.

dn’t breathe.

They stood before the priest, reciting their vows.

When Lucien took the ring and slid it onto Amélie’s finger, I finally faced the truth.

There was no master plan. No grand reversal.

This was his choice.

I closed my eyes. A single, scalding tear traced a path down my cheek.

The ceremony droned on, but then two men in black wheeled me away through a hidden door into a side

room.

Time lost all meaning. Eventually, the door opened.

Amélie walked in. She still wore the pristine white gown, but her face held no newlywed’s joy–only pure, venomous hatred.

“Enjoy the show, Norah Hawthorne?”

She ripped the veil from my face, her eyes burning into me.

“You thought Luen loved you? That he’d give up his empire for you?” She leaned down, her cold fingers tracing my cheek. “Don’t be naive. Men are all the same. Offer them enough power, and they’ll trade the woman in their bed without a second thought.”

“Oh, and one more thing. I’ve known about your little… condition from the very beginning.”

My head snapped up.

She knew!

“Wondering how?” Her smile was vicious. “I just paid a little money for a copy of your prenatal report.” She straightened up and walked slowly to a long table where a complete set of surgical instruments gleamed under the lights.

“Norah, what if I ruined these talented hands of yours… and took care of that bastard in your belly? You and Lucien would be finished forever.”

She picked up a sharp scalpel, her gaze dark and predatory, and walked toward me.

“No! Don’t!”

Pure terror seized me. I thrashed against the restraints.

A sharp, sickening cramp tore through my abdomen. I could feel the tiny life inside me trembling.

2/3

“Amélie! You’re insane! This is Lucien’s child!”

“I know,” she said with a cruel smile. “But I am his wife now. I will never let another woman bear his child!”

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