Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 21

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Chapter 21

“Norah, open the door,” Lucien’s voice came through urgently as he knocked insistently.

I curled tighter, pressing my forehead against my knees. “I just need some time alone,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s wrong? You just signed Irina—the most challenging model in all of Paris. This should be a moment to celebrate with champagne,” Lucien said, his tone a mix of confusion and encouragement.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, my voice carrying a coldness I hadn’t even realized I’d adopted.

There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough for me to wonder if he’d walked away. The silence stung, a tiny disappointment blooming inside me.

Then, breaking the quiet, Lucien’s voice returned, tinged with a teasing note. “So, you’re jealous of me?”

I flung the door open, frustration spilling out. “Jealous? Don’t flatter yourself, Lucien! I hate this tangled mess of relationships. I hate how your endless romantic debts always drag me into the middle of it!”

I hesitated, searching for words, but he interrupted with a soft, amused laugh.

“Hahaha,” he chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

That damn jealousy. At that moment, I realized something terrifying—I was falling for him.

It scared me more than Camille’s blockade or the endless struggle to find models.

He was Damian’s brother, someone I was supposed to use, not love.

But how could I stop myself from truly falling for him?

Lucien stepped forward, gently lifting my chin with his fingertip. “Norah, don’t be afraid. Look at me.”

I jerked my hand away and turned my back to him. “The press conference isn’t over yet. I don’t have time for distractions like this.”

His laughter followed me as I walked away. “Alright, we’ll talk after the press conference.”

—

Backstage on the day of the press conference, chaos reigned. The air buzzed with the sound of rolling racks, sewing machines humming tirelessly, and instructions shouted in various languages. The sharp scents of hairspray, makeup powder, and perfume mingled, creating a familiar whirlwind of sensory overload.