Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 77

**TITLE: The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing 77**

**Lucien’s POV**

Eleanor kept her promise, and the weight of her words settled heavily on my shoulders.

A lawyer, stiff and formal, arrived at my desk, handing over the share transfer agreement with a flourish.

The port was mine once more, a bittersweet victory that stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me.

With Norah by my side, we ventured to a place that felt like a haunting echo of my past—familiar yet unsettling.

The port sprawled before us, vast and imposing. The scent of salt mingled with the harsh aroma of diesel, a pungent reminder of the life that thrived here.

This was where my mother’s family business had taken root, a place that held whispers of her laughter and the shadows of her disappearance.

Determined to uncover the truth, I delved into records from two decades ago—ship logs, worker files, and faded camera footage.

Yet, as I sifted through the remnants of time, I found that much had been lost or corrupted.

With Norah at my side, we wandered into the dimly lit bars and crumbling warehouses that clung to the docks. I sought out aging sailors and worn workers, hoping to extract fragments of memory about my mother.

An old captain, his face weathered by years at sea, puffed on his pipe and said, “Kathy? Mrs. Constantine? Aye, I remember her. Beautiful woman, always dressed to the nines. Her smile could light up the darkest days. Such a tragedy, though. I heard she ran off with someone in the end.”

A first mate, busy mending his nets, interjected, “She didn’t strike me as the type to elope. She adored Mr. Constantine. But just a few days before she vanished, I caught sight of her arguing with a stranger by the docks. That man…”

And just like that, the trail slipped away once more, leaving me grasping at shadows.

As we turned to leave, an old sailor approached us, his gait steady despite the years.

“Mr. Constantine, the Madam wishes to see you.”

Intrigued, we followed him to a grand yacht moored at a secluded pier.

On the deck, a silver-haired woman stood, her back to us, tossing breadcrumbs to the seagulls that circled above.

Recognition washed over me like a wave. Mrs. Du Bois.

Adele Du Bois—the legendary shipping magnate of Europe. She had built her empire from the ground up, and even my father had tread carefully around her.

“You bear a striking resemblance to your mother,” she remarked, turning to scrutinize me with piercing eyes.

“You knew her?” I asked, my heart racing with anticipation.

“We played bridge together,” she replied nonchalantly. “She was dreadful at it, but never once lost her cool. Unlike some who throw a fit when they lose.”

Her words carried a pointed edge, and I felt the tension in the air.

“Did you see my mother before she disappeared?” I pressed, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

She appraised me, then shifted her gaze to Norah.

“This girl has a good spirit. Clear eyes, yet resilient. Far better than those chirpy little birds you used to have around.”

Then, as if dismissing the moment, she changed the topic. “You wish to learn about your mother?”

“Absolutely,” I replied, my heart pounding.

“Then you must prove your worth.”

With that, she handed me a gold-trimmed invitation, the weight of it heavy in my palm.

“Day after tomorrow. A charity gala aboard the Heart of the Ocean. Some of your mother’s old friends may be present. Whether you uncover anything is entirely up to you.”

The invitation contained only the time and the yacht’s name; nothing more about the event itself.

“Thank you,” I managed to say, though uncertainty gnawed at me.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” she waved her hand dismissively. “Not every man has the courage to attend. Take care of yourself.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify