Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The moment she stepped into the studio, the vibrant energy that had filled the room instantly drained away. Every head turned toward the woman who entered as if she had just walked off the set of some edgy street fashion shoot.

She moved with deliberate slowness, peeling off her oversized sunglasses to reveal a face heavily made-up and unnervingly stiff, the result of too many cosmetic enhancements.

“Camille Moreau,” Sophie whispered beside me, her voice tinged with both recognition and disdain.

Ah, Camille—the socialite infamous for her ruthless ambition and biting remarks.

Camille cast a dismissive glance around the room before locking her gaze on me, her eyes scanning me up and down with a mixture of curiosity and condescension.

“Lucien’s taste is really…” she sneered, “getting more and more questionable.” She took a step closer, her towering heels clicking sharply on the floor, and a cloud of overpowering perfume enveloped me. “I thought he was done with models and actresses. Surely he’d choose someone from his own elite circle. But no—he picked someone… who designs lingerie?”

Her eyes flicked toward Lucien as he emerged from the lounge, and her tone softened immediately. “Lucien, darling, long time no see. Remember the last time I woke up on your yacht? My back hurt for three days! You really can’t control yourself.”

Yacht?

Woke up?

Lucien’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing, only shooting me a brief, unreadable glance.

With a sly smile, Camille continued, “Breaking into high society isn’t easy. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re special just because he’s paying attention to you for now. Men like Lucien are always chasing after the next thrill. When he tires of you…”

“Miss Moreau,” I interrupted smoothly, stepping back to give myself space. My eyes traveled from her exaggerated heels up to her cinched waist, then to her face, stretched tight beneath layers of filler, before settling on her flashy top. “That corset… last season’s V collection, right? And it’s at least one size too small. Wearing it that tight doesn’t just cut off circulation and cause unwanted bulges—it can actually compress your organs. Seems your definition of beauty hasn’t gotten any deeper.”

Camille’s cheeks flushed crimson. “You!” she spat, trembling with anger.

Before she could retort, I pressed on, “And your perfume? It’s way too strong. The alcohol in the top notes hasn’t even evaporated—like you sprayed it on in a rush. Lucien hates that scent, by the way. Looks like you don’t know him as well as you think.”

My words landed like a blow.

“I’m here to order lingerie!” Camille snapped. “Is this how Thorn Creative treats its clients?”

“Of course not,” I replied with a small, polite smile, reaching for a soft tape measure and clipboard from the workbench. “For genuine clients, we provide personal service. Please head to the fitting room—I’ll need to take your measurements.”

She shot me a fierce look but lifted her chin and strode into the fitting room.

“Raise your arm,” I instructed, wrapping the tape around her bust.

She complied, grumbling under her breath, “Don’t think you’re something special just because Lucien’s protecting you now. When he was good to me, you weren’t even around.”

As I tightened the tape and jotted down the numbers, I replied coolly, “Really? Funny that he never mentioned he hates synthetic fabrics. That outfit you’re wearing is probably eighty percent polyester. Seems he wasn’t that serious with you back then.”

Squatting down to measure her waist and hips, I continued, “You probably don’t know this, but he has a rose tattoo on his lower back…”

“The hip measurement is fine,” I interrupted, noting it down. “But the fake padding is obvious—you’ll want to be careful with how your pants fit.”

“You!” she hissed again.

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