The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

Chapter 25

Brandon’s pov

She lingered in the bathroom for an extended period of time, implying that she was considering it. I was

kicking myself for coming up with the proposal in the first place. I didn’t want her to get pregnant for that

jerk.

In the future, my directors would devise a scheme to snare Gentex for her. Josh and his father had to

practice their takedown for years before they got it right.

Rushing was a formula for disaster because there were so many factors in the plan that I had

overlooked. Anything could go wrong and backfire, and I wouldn’t be alive to pick her up.

A flood of regret washed over me, and I knew I had to back out of my proposition. I got out of the

wheelchair and headed to the bathroom when the door opened and she walked out. My attempt to

open my mouth was thwarted by her.

“I need some fresh air, don’t you want to go for a walk down the beach?” she suggested. Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I said, “Of course.”

“Do you require the use of a wheelchair?

“No, just my tablet,” I said as I walked over to the bed to get it.

“Is it okay if I wear your black hoodie?” She inquired. I shifted my gaze to her, taken aback by her plea.

I was wearing the hoodie when I first ran into her. I smiled and nodded. She took it from the closet and

put it on.

As she led the way, she said, “When you die, I’m keeping this hoodie.”

I was left speechless. I shook my head and walked up behind her. It was already dark outside, another

day lost but we had identified a loop in Josh’s company, albeit I was not knee-deep in carrying it out.

We walked silently down the beach’s edges, Thalia in front with me behind, evaluating the chances of

the plan succeeding. I wanted her to bring up the topic or provide an answer, despite the fact that I had

given her time to think about it.

She came to a complete halt and turned to face me. If only I could get into her head and see what she

was thinking.

“What exactly are they doing? She inquired.

“Who?” I asked confused.

“Jessica and Josh, the new married couple?”

“Thalia, I assumed you wanted to go for a stroll to clear your head?” I asked, concerned.

“I’m thinking about them and curious as to what they’re up to,” she replied, her voice direct.

I sighed, disappointed, and said, “They are at a ski resort in Canada.”

She chuckled, “Josh hurts snow,” she said and asked if I had followed them and set up cameras where

they were staying.

“Watching them won’t help you make the right decision,” I stated.

She walked over to me and took the tablet from my hands. She seemed to have figured out how to use

my iPad and went straight to the live feed of Jessica and Josh, who were sleeping and embracing in

bed. She took a seat down and glanced at them. I followed her lead and took a seat next to her.

“They most likely believe they have a promising future. I’m sure they’re fantasizing about that future,”

she said, her gaze falling on me.

“Thalia accept my company, and you’ll be able to take down Josh with the resources it provides,” I

suggested.

“No, I want his nightmare to start tomorrow, but what if Jessica is already expecting?” she inquired.

I slowly locked my gaze with her, it appeared she had already made up her mind; I was saddened deep

down. She was willing to go to any length in order to destroy Josh’s life.

With a small smile, she took her hand and placed it in mine. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself while

you’re gone. I am well aware that having a child is a major responsibility.”

“Will it be worth bringing an innocent soul into this fight?” I asked, pulling out my hand and holding her

cheek.

“By the time she or he grows up, Josh would commit suicide and his sk**k would be selling her body for

change,” she said. I just stared at her with no words to say.

“Imagine his surprise when he learns that his brainless wife, with whom he never wanted to have a

child, will be the only woman to ever carry his child?” she said, smiling.

“You see, Brandon, your plan is excellent; it will wipe away all the sorrows I shed when he had made

sure I never conceived.” She continued, “I’m going to get the final laugh.”

I sighed and continued to massage her flesh; she had made up her mind and there was no use in

discussing it; after all, it was my idea, to begin with. She said, “I would have liked it if you had raised the

child with me.”

As I gazed up at her, my hand froze, I knew her words were innocent. It was natural for two friends to

raise a child together, yet her words cut to the core of my being, and I could feel my heart throbbing.

Before I blushed, I had to act quickly. “Imagine how attractive your second child would be if I left my

sperm as well.” I made light of the situation.

She shoved me and yelled, “Shut up! What is the matter with you? And don’t think about swapping his

sperm for yours. I will follow you to hell,” she whispered as she pressed her fingers across my skin.

“Why didn’t I consider that?” I said, feigning a laugh.

“Brandon I will skin you alive?”

I replied, “Just kidding,” with a serious expression on my face. “Simply vow that you will not grow the

child to be as st*pid as you.”

“I swear and cross my heart,”she said laughing.

“How long has it been since you had your period?” I inquired, noticing a smidgeon of redness on her

face.

“Thalia, this information is for insemination purposes only, not for my p*rv**rted ears,” I informed her.

“Oooh, I guess my period is a week or two weeks away,” she added as she began counting. I said,

“Great, that means you’re very fertile, just sitting on me could get you pregnant,” I said, which made her

laugh and hit me.

When I was with her, I hid behind a wall of sarcasm. Every time I felt a strange joyful feeling, it was

terrifying. I had some inkling of what it was, but I was too afraid to confront it.

She came to a halt and asked, “How long until you make Josh impotent, I want to watch,” causing me

to swallow my saliva hard.

“Unfortunately, we must be cautious and leave no records, so no cameras are permitted.

“No, Brandon,” she screamed in frustration.

”Sorry, brainless, but we can watch the accident,” I said.

“What kind of accident?”

“Skiing accident, he should have gone to Jamaica instead of Canada,” I replied and grabbed the tablet

from her hands going straight to the emails. I needed to send them to all of the people who were

needed in the operation, but before I hit send, I asked her if she was sure she wanted to go ahead with

it.

The last thing we wanted was for her to wake up as Jesus’ mother and regret her decision. She took

the tablet and sent the emails herself, much to my amazement; there was no going back. But then she

stopped and asked; “What happens if the fictitious accident goes wrong and he dies? Who gets the

shares?”

“The jerk is still drafting his will and consulting lawyers, so now is the greatest moment to strike,” I

responded.

“Then it’s time for the horror to begin “she stated as her phone rang, she instantly took it up and smiled

as she read the message.

“Who is it?” I inquired.

“It’s none of your concern,” she said, compelling me to take the phone from her like a jealous boyfriend.

It was Nestor and he was asking about me and wishing her goodnight, much to my chagrin.

“Give me my phone back!” She screamed at me.

“He is very foolish,” I stated and gave him two middle fingers before blocking and deleting his line.

“There you go,” I responded, returning the phone to her.

“Why would you do such a thing,” she wondered? “What if something happens to you? Who should I

contact?”

“If I drop dead just pick up my body and bury it on this beach, after all, this is my property,” I muttered

as I stood up. It was getting late, and I was getting cold. “Brandon, you jerk, you’re just jealous because

I’ve made a new friend,” she said.

As I led the way back inside the house, I chuckled and asked, “Friend? Next, you will claim him as your

new boyfriend,” I stated sending her to laughter.

“I knew there was a small heart inside of you that was jealous,” she said.

“So you’re thinking about dating him?” I questioned, turning around. My face solemn. I could only hope

she selected her words carefully, for I was willing to leave her outside in the cold to see whether

useless Nestor would come to her aid.

She said, “He’s not my type,” and then said, “Breath.” I stared at her, realizing I hadn’t been inhaling for

a while. As a flood of embarrassment washed over me, she came out laughing, but I had to recover

quickly and untangle myself from the web.

“Do you know what?”

“What?” she asked.

“It’s been rumored that he’s ga y,” I told her, surprising the life out of her.

“There is something about the way he looks at me that screams ga y?” I added.

“Brandon, keep quiet; I’ll go over to his house and inform him.”

“If you want to confront him, do so, and how dare you allow him to bathe me?”

She held her hands on her mouth and said, “Oh, my G*d, he probably raped you every time he bathed

you.” Her mouth agape, she inquired, “How’s your butt?”

I tried to grab her, but she was swift and bolted away. I dashed after her, having no idea where the

energy had come from, but after two years, my feet had found the drive to run.

As she screamed like a sixteen-year-old, I chased her all the way to the bedroom. She grabbed

whatever soft thing she could find and hurled it at me.

“Brandon, I was simply joking,” she remarked as we stood inches apart; I couldn’t recall the last time I

had so much fun; such memories were erased from my memory bank. She raced to the kitchen, and I

chased after her as she defended herself with a pan.

“Seriously, you’re going to hit a man who’s dying?” As I tried to grab her, I inquired.

“I was only joking,” she pleaded, but I was not going to fall for her ruse. I pushed her to the cupboard

with my left hand, then grabbed her free left hand and trapped her against the cupboard with my right

hand. As she dropped the pan, my body rubbed up against hers.

“Brandon Please believe me when I say I was joking,” she continued, smiling, but I was already lost in

my own world, inhaling her scent while feigning a struggle with her. She smelled great, natural rather

than perfumed or synthetic.

Her hair smelled completely different than it did when I first saw her. Maggie did an excellent job with

the scent. It took all my might not to trace kisses on her neckline as I came closer. It was all I could

think about.

I was puzzled as to why I hadn’t met her when I was healthy and vibrant. What was it about life that

was so cruel? I said a prayer for the first time. Big man, if you’re up there, please grant me another

month. I stated I’d only ask for one more month with her.

“What’re you up to, Brandon?” She inquired, but I was preoccupied.

Brandon “Are you okay?” She inquired one more. I shook out of my creepy stupor and said.

“Don’t move, I think I yanked something,” I lied.

“Brandon, please tell me you’re alright! “It’s all my fault,” she inquired, her voice trembling.

“Just don’t move,” I murmured as I slowly slid my head over her shoulder and wrapped my arms

around her petite waist. I was convinced she was going to burst me, but the naive girl was so worried

that I would collapse and die on her that she didn’t notice my sick game.

We stayed there till I felt she was tired. As I let go of her, I told her, “I think I need to rest on the bed.”

She swiftly shifted her weight and offered her back. She was a true angel, but I was the jack**ss.

“No, I think I can walk,” I replied, but she had already brought in a wheelchair before I could finish my

sentence. As she rolled me into the bedroom.

She helped me get into the bed, I could see she was tired all thanks to me. “Let’s watch a movie?” I

suggested. She held her head, I could see that she was not interested and only wanted to rest but I

wanted her to sleep on my bed.

I quickly grabbed the remote, flipped the wall into my Tv, and pulled her down.

“Fine, just one movie,” she said and got on the bed sliding under my covers. Before we knew it she was

on my chest snoring and making cute noises.