Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29

I practically bolted back to the apartment, the door slamming shut behind me with a harsh bang. My back slid down the door until I was sitting on the cold floor, my heart pounding wildly.

Norah had never had amnesia? How could that be possible? The thought echoed relentlessly in my mind, disbelief twisting my insides. The car accident had been so severe—the doctors had confirmed it without hesitation—so how could she have been pretending so flawlessly all this time?

Flashbacks surged unbidden: her wide, innocent eyes filled with confusion in the sterile hospital room; the way she coldly rebuffed Damian’s persistent advances; her flawless, almost rehearsed answers when I tested her. It had all been an act, a carefully orchestrated performance. When had Norah transformed into someone so unreadable, shedding the naive image I once believed in?

A bitter laugh bubbled up inside me. Had I been nothing more than a fool, still playing my part in this charade, secretly relieved to keep up appearances? Was she mocking me behind that calm facade all along?

A wave of nausea hit me hard, squeezing my chest painfully. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was bent over the toilet, heaving violently. My throat burned fiercely as I expelled the bitter, sour liquid. Cold sweat drenched my hair, clinging to my skin, making me feel utterly miserable. How many times had this happened in just one week?

I collapsed onto the cold tile floor, completely drained, unable to summon the strength to stand. My phone’s screen glowed faintly at my feet, flashing with yet another barrage of news alerts—Damian kneeling with a bouquet of white roses, Norah looking smug beside Lucien.

Desperation took hold. I snatched up the phone and dialed Damian’s number frantically, each ring echoing my rising panic. But no matter how many times I called, he didn’t answer once. Since the incident at the racetrack, he hadn’t returned a single call. Even when irritated before, he had never shut me out so completely. The sickness in my body twisted with the terror of being ignored by him, choking me.

Then, a sudden, terrifying thought struck me: How late was my period this month?

I bolted into the bedroom, rifling through drawers until I found a pregnancy test hidden in the back. My hands trembled as I followed the instructions, placing the small white stick on the sink. Seconds dragged like hours as I stared at it, silently begging for a single line.

At first, only one clear red line appeared. Relief flickered briefly—then, slowly, a second line emerged beside it.

Two lines.

My vision blurred, and I leaned heavily against the wall to steady myself. How could this be happening now?

The sterile smell of disinfectant in the private clinic made me gag as I held the thin report in my hands: “Pregnancy: positive.”

I was pregnant. Damian’s child. Could this be my last chance? He had only been momentarily swayed by that wretched Norah—it was a lapse, nothing more. Once he knew I carried his child, surely he would change his mind.

With the report clutched tightly, I hurried to Damian’s private apartment. The door was unlocked, and as I stepped inside, the pungent scent of alcohol hit me immediately. Damian was slouched on the couch, a disheveled mess, his eyes locked on his phone.

“Damian…” I called softly.

“Who let you in? Get out! I don’t have time for you!” he snapped, irritation sharp in his voice.

I swallowed my trembling and stepped closer, holding out the report. “Damian, look at this. I—”

He suddenly swung his arm, knocking the paper from my hand. “Serena, I told you not to bother me. I don’t have the patience for your stupid games right now. I’m trying to get Norah back.”

“I’m pregnant!” I screamed, cutting him off, snatching up the paper and slapping it against his chest. “Damian, I’m carrying your child!”

He froze, eyes flicking to the report, then back up at me. But there was no joy in his gaze, no hint of fear or hope. Instead, he sneered. “My child? Serena, how many men have you slept with? Do you even know?”

“You dare throw some bastard’s name at me and claim it’s mine? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Bastard… frame…

His words echoed hollowly in my mind as I watched his lips move, his once captivating face now a mask of scorn. I couldn’t hear a thing.

I don’t remember how I left.

Outside, the sunlight was blinding, but I felt numb and cold, shivering uncontrollably. The bustling people and rushing cars blurred into a meaningless haze. Damian’s cruel words collided with Norah’s icy stare in my mind.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed my chest, and darkness swallowed me whole.

When I came to, the harsh scent of disinfectant filled my nostrils. A doctor stood beside me, his expression serious.

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