The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

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Thalia’s pov

I watched Jessica collapse in front of the elevator with tired eyes. I’d dozed off, but Brandon was kind

enough to record the moment she lost it and raced all the way to the elevator.

It was fulfilling to watch as I recalled how she mocked and attended each of my divorce hearings just to

despise me. I guess Karma was biting her hard.

She collapsed in Victor’s arms, their relationship was odd, as Brandon had pointed out earlier when

victor stripped her of her clothes and attempted to bathe her.

He claimed the two had a history, which I could see from what I’d seen thus far. We needed evidence,

or we could simply photograph the restroom scene and email it to Josh. Brandon’s men were already

compiling their background information which we planned to shove down Josh’s throat.

Victor was a serious man who rarely showed his teeth, but I noted that he was quite tolerant with

Jessica. She was free to do or say anything she wanted, including insulting him.

It was strange because, while Jessica lacked morality and respect, Victor seemed to tolerate the

contempt. Why, exactly, was the big question.

Why would Jessica let Victor get so close to her that he could offer her a bath? Or why comfortably cry

in his arms in front of the entire hospital? We expected a major scandal to emerge at the conclusion of

the trial.

However, we set all other considerations aside and awaited the arrival of the private investigations.

I turned to Brandon, who appeared to be in a good mood and was rummaging through his closet

seeking for something to wear. “Are you on your way somewhere?” I inquired.

“Yes, I will accompany you to the hospital,” he responded. “We’re a couple who can’t conceive,

therefore I’m taking you to inseminate our first child,” he said before returning to his clothing hunt.

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard; he casually used the term OUR, the word alone meant a lot Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

but I ignored it because he was in a good mood. I’ve never seen him in such a good temper in the

morning.

When I looked at his calendar, I discovered that he had stopped canceling off days; two canceled days

were missing, indicating that he had stopped canceling days off yesterday. I grinned and got out of bed;

it was past time he enjoyed his final days and forgot about the clock.

I approached him from behind and hugged him tightly, but he froze and remained silent. A reaction that

I was expecting.

I smiled and he asked “Ain’t you supposed to be sha ving down there? In a few minutes, Nestor will be

here,” he continued. Another response that I was anticipating. I raised my fist and slammed my hand

against the back of his head. “Ouch,” he cried out.

I hugged him even tighter and told him that he earned it. “Are we heading to Canada, and if so, how did

you manage to install cameras throughout a hospital?” I asked.

He said, ” No, the sperm is already in transit here and the hospital belongs to a friend, only the floor

that Josh is on has cameras,” he replied and asked me to take my hands off his waist.

“Why?” I asked.

“You are compressing my chest,” he replied. I quickly moved away even though there was a possibility

he was lying.

I walked to my side of my wardrobe and looked for what to wear. We were indeed a couple, shared a

wardrobe, even a bed.

I had gotten used to sleeping with him on the same bed without care. At first, it bothered me but ever

since he fell into that mini coma I shifted from the sofa to the bed and it had not been a bother.

He was actually a gentleman when asleep, he never attempted anything. He was only a per vert with

his eyes.

He began, “You’ll look lovely in the pink dress,” and I turned to see him with a serious expression on his

face. While looking at it, I said, “That’s too informal.”

“I’d like to see you in that,” he said. I turned again, and he averted his gaze. It was the second time the

same uneasiness permeated the air whenever he locked his eyes with mine, it was as if he was

attempting to hide something from me that he didn’t want me to see through his eye.

His eyes were like a mirror to all the questions that were bothering me. I averted my gaze, grabbed the

garment and the items I required, and proceeded to the restroom ignoring his weird act.

I entered the bathroom and took a deep breath, telling myself not to think about the awkwardness and

focusing on my bath and the medical operation that I was heading to. A procedure that was going to

transform my life forever.

I was certain. I wanted the baby, in simple terms I was reclaiming everything Josh had deprived me of.

Yes, any other woman in my position would be patient, plan for years, then strike and take everything

from Josh, but that was not the case for me.

I wanted to deprive him of a single minute of happiness; his wedding day was going to be the last time

he was going to remember smiling.

When I thought about it, I believed my wedding day was also the last time I had a genuine smile. All of

the subsequent smiles were a fabrication of what I thought was genuine. I stripped off my clothes and

nearly screamed, not because I didn’t realize my lady parts were swan with a bush, but because

Brandon’s word sunk in.

How did he know I needed to sha ve? My mind went straight to the cameras. What if he had concealed

cameras in the room and I wasn’t alone? I started looking around but couldn’t find anything. I had no

notion what a hidden camera looked like, even if I was looking.

I grabbed a scrubbing brush, wrapped my towel around my waist, and marched out of the bathroom.

I found him seated on the bed, on his tablet, doing whatever it was he was doing. “You have cameras

in the bathroom, don’t you?” I asked as I moved up to where he was seated and pointed the scrub on

him.

I could see his eyes all over my body, he was definitely undressing me without shame as he glanced up

at me puzzled, and he grinned as if he was enjoying what he was seeing.

I ignored him and yelled, “Answer my question or I’ll hit you and throw you out.”

“Thalia, if I wanted to see you naked, I would have asked you,” he boasted. He was so confident in

himself that he convinced himself that any girl would strip naked for him, but the point he was missing

was that I was not just any girl.

“Are there any cameras in the bathroom?” I screamed. I was losing it.

“No, I already told you there are no cameras; you’ve been using the bathroom for over a week and

haven’t given it a second thought; what has changed?” he inquired.

I was extremely quiet for a second.

“Thalia, you’re wasting your time.”.

“How did you come to that conclusion?

“What conclusion?” he inquired, lost.

My tongue was tied, and I couldn’t say anything, I felt embarrassed to say it out but my gaze shifted to

my pelvic area, and he immediately knew what I was talking about, he smiled. My face flushed with

embarrassment, I began to regret exiting the restroom.

“Thalia, You had a nasty divorce two weeks ago, it’s normal to have a bush, there was no way you

could have time to sh*ve” he explained. “I only assumed, but now you’ve made me start imagining

things.”

I was so embarrassed that I simply turned around and walked back to the bathroom, closing the door

behind me in shame without looking behind. I wished the bathtub would swallow me whole.

He yelled at me to hurry. He busted out laughing when I screamed in rage. I planned to get him. I was

going to get him back for the humiliation because I knew his flaws. I threw down the towel and started

having a bath.

I’m not sure how long I was in the restroom, but a knock on the door shook me out of my reverie.

Nestor, the obedient prince, was his new nickname and it suited him. I coughed and asked for a

moment.

Brandon had requested me to wear a pink dress that fit my frame well, but the cleavage was too much

for me, and I had neglected to take a jacket with me. I shrugged and walked out of the bathroom

annoyed.

My primary worry was getting a jacket to cover off my useless cleavage, so I didn’t notice the hanging

jaws drooling over me.

I went to the back of the closet and looked for jackets or throwovers, but there were none. Brandon and

Nestor were both staring at me with their jaws hanging open when I turned around.

“For the love of G*d, where are my jackets?” I tried to ignore them, but they only stared at me. I walked

over to the table and slapped my fist down. “Brandon the Jacket!”

He ignored my question and asked, “Which jackets?”

“Seriously?” I replied, annoyed.

He laughed and got up, I noticed he was dressed in black and a beret in his hands. “The only thing you

brought were those terrible jumpers” he chuckled.

“Like, where were you getting those sweaters from?” He asked, irritating the life out of me.

“How are you today, Thalia?” Nestor cut in, saving his useless boss.

“Ooh morning Nestor,” I replied embarrassed, I had completely ignored him.

“You look beautiful,” he stated

“Thanks,” I replied with a smile. I could see Brandon rolling his eyes as he put on his beret and dark

glasses. He looked completely unrecognizable.

“Let’s go, the doctor is waiting for us,” he replied and held out his hand for me. I hesitated a bit before

grabbing it.

“Are you sure?” he asked like he needed confirmation if I was pulling out at the last minute.

“I’m very sure,” I replied and noted Nestor look down in disappointment and led the way.

I stopped and asked, “Are you sure you will be fine, I thought you would never get out?”

“No one will recognize me out there,” he stated as we walked out. “Guess who the police are putting as

their main suspect in the skiing accident?” he asked.

“Who?” I inquired.

“Jessica, I threw them a bone and they began chewing it immediately,” he said with a smile.

My face lit up with excitement, Brandon was bl**dy evil and I liked it, the b*tch was going to wish she

was dead by the time he was done with her.

He handed me his tablet when we entered the helicopter and I watched as Jessica was yelling at the

detective. She had become a screaming psy cho and the game had not yet even begun.