Revenge amnesia upgraded to his brother novel Chapter 79

**The Goodbye That Never Reached You and My Life Chasing**
**Chapter 79**

Norah’s POV

The name “Luen” lingered in the atmosphere, intimate yet sharp, like the edge of a knife.

It sliced through the ambient chatter of the banquet hall, a sudden and jarring interruption that made my heart race.

Before me, a woman clung to Lucien, her arms wrapped possessively around his neck, her body pressed against his with a familiarity that twisted my stomach into knots.

She was a vision of golden hair cascading down her shoulders, her lips painted a bold crimson, and her dress—a glimmering emerald silk—spoke of wealth and privilege, a clear indication of old money.

Luen?

When had anyone ever called him that?

I watched as Lucien stiffened, surprise flickering in his eyes—a subtle recoil that didn’t go unnoticed.

He attempted to gently pry her off, but she merely tightened her grip, her laughter bubbling up as if this were all a playful game.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low and strained, a cocktail of shock and something else—was it resignation?

“I graduated, silly!” she chirped, finally releasing him but not before cupping his face in her hands, her touch lingering. She planted a loud, possessive kiss on his lips, as if marking her territory. “I flew back the moment I got my diploma. Wanted to surprise you! Did you miss me?”

Her tone dripped with sweetness and confidence, as if the years that had separated them were mere figments of imagination.

Around us, whispers ignited like wildfire, spreading through the crowd.

“Isn’t that Amélie Veyron? The heiress of the Veyron Arms?”

“I thought she was in Switzerland. Why is she back now?”

“Their families have always wanted them together. It was bound to happen.”

The only daughter of an arms dealer.

My fingers curled tighter around the black card nestled in my clutch, its edges biting into my palm like a reminder of my own reality.

“Amélie, enough,” Lucien finally managed, his brow furrowing with a mix of annoyance and concern. He reached for me, his hand finding mine and pulling me closer, as if seeking solace in our connection. “Let me introduce you. This is—”

“Luen, I’m so thirsty,” Amélie interrupted, her voice dripping with a petulant drawl.

She didn’t even spare me a glance. “Let’s go inside. It’s stifling out here.”

With that, she seized his arm, her fingers curling around his bicep, and began to pull him toward the banquet hall. As she brushed past me, her icy blue eyes pierced through me, holding not just disdain but an unmistakable spark of raw, unfiltered hatred.

Lucien shot me a fleeting look over his shoulder—an apology, a silent plea—before being swept away by her forceful presence.

Mateo appeared at my side, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“It seems your knight has more than one dragon to slay,” he murmured, his gaze tracking their departure.

I brushed him off, turning sharply on my heel and stepping back into the glittering chaos of the hall.

The auction was about to commence.

The host’s voice boomed, introducing each “bachelor” with a theatrical flair that filled the room with anticipation. And then—

“Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Mr. Lucien Constantine!”

A spotlight illuminated Lucien as he strode onto the small stage. He had changed into an impeccably tailored black tuxedo that hugged his frame perfectly.

His expression was a mask of cool indifference, yet I could sense the tension coiled in his jaw, a silent battle waging within him.

Women in the audience leaned forward, their eyes glimmering with hunger, their whispers a cacophony of excitement.

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