The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 20

The Art Of Revenge

Thalia’s Pov

I was scared, I could feel my legs shaking as I boarded the chopper, the Jerk couldn’t even wish me good luck. He became irritable out of nowhere, and he couldn’t even compliment me on how nice I looked.

To be honest, he sn*tched away half of the self-confidence I had when I awoke. I needed a pat in the back. I inhaled deeply and looked about; we were already in the air; all I could do was pray for the best.

We landed on the top of Mandel Logistics in under an hour; it was only half-past six o’clock, and no personnel was yet in the building. When the pilot opened the door, I was surprised to see that he was a fairly young man, maybe around my age.

I wasn’t paying attention when he picked me up because I was furious that Brandon didn’t wish me good luck.

He helped me out of the aircraft like a gentleman. “I will also be your bodyguard for the morning,” he said. I was surprised that he was dressed in a suit. “My name is Nestor. I tried to introduce myself before, but your attention was elsewhere,” he explained.

“Please accept my sincere apologies. My name is Thalia Nash,” I replied embarrassed.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Nash, and don’t worry, you’ll do wonderful in there,” he said, smiling, and asked me to check my mic. I smiled and said something, but there was no response. Brandon was unusually silent, I realized.

I tried again, but there was no response. As I gazed up at Nestor, my hands began to sweat, and I knew something wasn’t right. He grinned as I heard him speak something into his microphone.

“Mr. Fraser ordered us to go in,” he said and led the way. Why, though, was Brandon silent in my earpiece? I stood there, apprehensive, for a while.

He came to a halt when he realized I wasn’t following him, and he returned to me. “Ms. Nash, we need to take seats before the meeting begins,” he stated.

“First and foremost, I’d like to speak with Brandon to ensure that everything is in order,” I explained to him that I had forgotten my phone at home and asked for his phone.

“Miss Nash, the boss gave me explicit instructions to make sure you pitch in front of the board members.”

“But, why isn’t he speaking to me?” I asked, confusion evident on my face.

“Because you concealed the… cleavage from him,” he said without making eye contact, “It’s vengeance.”

Brandon was an idiot, there I was worried about him but it seemed as if he was playing silly games. His company’s destiny was in my hands, and he was enraged over a dumb cleavage. Screw him, I yanked out my earpiece, tossed it on the ground, and was about to stamp on it when Nestor intervened. And without my permission, he rapidly grabbed it up and inserted it into my ear.

“My boss is a self-absorbed jerk, keep your energy for his face,” he said as he led the way into an elevator; I noted he pressed the Basement button; the ride was long and quiet till I spoke up.

“Have you known Brandon for a while?” I enquired.

“Since we were infants?” With a smile, he replied and turned.

“So, you’re agemates?”

“Yes, my late father was his late father’s driver and we went through junior high and high school together. My father was killed in the car accident that killed his parents,” he stated in a sad tone.

“Ooh, my condolences,” I remarked.

“Thank you; this is life,” he replied

“So you’re friends with Brandon?”

“No,” he said, turning away; there was silence for a moment before he spoke. “We have a professional relationship between us. Are you his girlfriend?” he inquired, causing me to choke on my saliva.

“Are you okay?”

“Im fine, he’s just a friend who is assisting me with something, and I’m assisting him with his business,” I explained.

From his buttoned-up position, he gave me a judgmental glare. He wanted to say something, but he decided against it.

“If that was your query, I have not slept with him,” I said with folded arms. I did not need to explain the type of relationship that Brandon and I had with the stranger next to me but I did not like his judgy eyes.

On the positive side, the elevator halted and he led the way into another, smaller elevator that required a code. Finally, we found ourselves in a large, fully furnished conference room. While we waited in silence for the board members, he motioned for me to take a seat in the huge chair and handed me a glass of water.

“Brandon is like a brother to me, and when I got a text from him last night, I was so relieved to know that he was still alive,” he said, breaking the stillness. “However, I’m perplexed about you; who are you?” he inquired. His question somehow sounded insulting to me.

“It’s none of your business,” I snarled, “do your job and I’ll do mine, or maybe you want to be fired.” My inner voice was taken aback by my self-confidence.

“Brandon had already fired me,” he smirked.”I’m on a twenty-six-month contract.” As he glanced at me, I said, “Good for you.” The door opened, and three middle-aged men strolled in, astonished by our presence. One of them inquired, “Who are you?”

I hurriedly sprang up, but Nestor grabbed an envelope from his jacket and delivered it to them before I could say anything. While he was reading it, another five people entered, followed by five more. I knew every single one of them by name thanks to my research. They were all taken aback when they discovered us in the room.

In a low voice, I cleared my throat and invited them all to take a seat. Nestor shifted his gaze on me and motioned for me to take a deep breath. My palms were sweaty, all of the board members appeared frightening to me and Brandon was nowhere to be heard.

“Where is Brandon, this is a joke?” One of them exclaimed, “How dare he bring one of his sl*ts to this meeting after trying to ruin the company!” He added.

My heart sank in as I realized that everyone in the room thought I was one of Brandon’s regular sl*ts; it was insulting. It also explained why Nestor was asking me st*pid questions. Anger surged, as I clutched my fists like I was about to punch everyone.

“We can still vote and ignore her,” another member said, and everyone agreed.

“Please take your st*pid seats,” I yelled at the top of my lungs, breathing heavily.

“Whoever you are, young lady…”

“Shut up, first of all, I’m not Brandon’s sl ut; he’s sick and probably won’t get his penis up” As they stared at me, I yelled, stunning them to life. I spun around and gave Nestor a warning look as he giggled. I was just furious that everyone assumed I was having an affair with Brandon.

I cut off what we rehea rsed yesterday, as well as all the lies that Brandon had created for the pitch. I was bad at lying and without Brandon, I needed to use my brain and tell the truth or part of the truth. I cleared my throat and began.