The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 21

The Art Of Revenge

Thalia’s Pov

I dashed into the house, rushing straight to his bedroom room. My heart was racing as I gazed on the bed, but it was empty; then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him lying on the floor, covered in vomit, blood, and clots.

My mind froze as I merely stared at him, the breakfast I had prepared for him undisturbed on the table. I was certain he was dead because he appeared to be quite grey from where I was standing.

Nestor rushed in, bending down and rolling him over in an attempt to resuscitate him. I could hear him shouting out my name, but I was as still as a stone. He flipped him over and began slapping his palm on his back like an infant.

He then dashed to the bed, pressed a button, and the bed converted into a medical bed with a variety of medical equipment strewn over its edge. He dashed back to Brandon and dragged him to the bed, where he was fitted with an oxygen mask and a fluid bag.

“Thalia!” He yelled at me. I suddenly awoke from my stupor.

He declared, “He is alive, he is breathing.”

I moved carefully over to the bed and held Brandon’s hand, he was so cold, unlike yesterday when he was heated up. I raised my eyes to Nestor and inquired. “Is this some type of cursed disease?”

“I have no idea, not even the most brilliant minds have been able to solve it,” he said as he adjusted the room’s temperature. My mind was at a stalemate, and I couldn’t think of anything.

I was so excited about informing him about the meeting’s success, but it seemed like I’d have to wait. I just sat there, playing with his hand, as Nestor, much to my astonishment, began cleaning the room. I also noticed that he was familiar with the layout of the house and which doors linked to which rooms.

“I believe we should put him in some hot water like doctors used to do,” he suggested when he was done.

“Did you use to live here?” I asked, raising my eyes to him.

“No, but I used to come up here when he was unconscious to see how he was doing. The doctor would secretly allow me in,” he explained. As he began removing Brandon’s clothes, I looked at him, puzzled.

“Perhaps we should contact one of his physicians,” I suggested.

“There’s nothing a doctor can do for him, Thalia; he’s just a vessel awaiting his fate. He went on to say, “All we can do is make him comfortable.” I held down my wrath to scream at him. Brandon, unlike other people who betrayed me or pitied and laughed behind my back, was the one person who was honest with me and told me what I needed to hear.

He was sincere in his counsel and even laughed in my face. He was a sincere friend; he may or may not have had ulterior motivations in bringing me to his home, but he was a kind man. He didn’t deserve to die like an animal.

When he started removing his pants, I simply turned and looked away. I heard Nestor giggle, but I didn’t pay attention. I only heard a will chair disappearing through the bathroom door. I was enraged at the world and Go d as I sat on my bed. Before I burst out, I decided to occupy my mind.

I went into the kitchen and started cooking. Nestor had already stated Brandon’s favorite cuisine was mashed potatoes and shrimp. He’d have to find a portion of food if he woke up.

Nestor had showered, dressed, and tucked Brandon into bed by the time I finished. I noted the fluids hanging but his temperature and breathing were normal, despite the fact that he was still unconscious.

“Do you suppose he was unconscious for a long time?” As I sat down, I inquired

Nestor could only gaze down in embarrassment.

“You should have brought us back here as soon as you didn’t get a response, ” I stated in hushed tones.

“You have no clue who Brandon Fraser is,” he replied, raising his eyes to me. “When he gives you orders, you follow them.”

“Is it worth it if he loses his life? I inquired, but he remained silent.

“What is your relationship with him, and how do you know so much about him?” I finally asked the question which was eating me up.

“I’m expected to know who my boss is,” he replied.

“Cut the nonsense!”

“Brandon has made it clear that there is no relationship; he is insecure, and I’m amazed he even let you stay here,” he indicated, perplexing me.

“I assumed you were one of the girls he sleeps with when I came to pick you up, but your company speech? Is he assisting you in regaining control of your company?” he asked.

I gave him a long look before nodding.

“That’s Brandon,” he said, startling me. “He did the same for my mother, Maggie, I’m sure you’ve met her.”

” Maggie is your mother?” I was taken aback.

“Yes, after Dad died, we were left with nothing, but Brandon hired my mother as the caretaker of his family’s home, paying her a great salary,” he said with a smile that suddenly became melancholy.

“But then she had a heart condition and required a heart; she didn’t want to disturb Brandon, but I tracked him down and begged him.  My mum was put in front of the donation list and on a surgery table the next morning,” he explained as he sat down.

“When she recovered, he paid all the costs and reinstated her employment. Her employment helped me become the pilot I am today, and when I heard he was hiring pilots, I applied and was recruited.

Then we discovered he was ill. My mother offered to look after him, but he declined because he didn’t want help or sympathy. He dismissed us because he believes we are loyal simply because he gave my mother a heart. Yes, he is abrasive and difficult to work with, but he has a large heart underneath,” he noted.

I was taken aback and looked at him in astonishment.

“I know everything there is to know about him because I was the one who used to take him around the world. And when he got sick, I was the one who flew in all kinds of doctors, medicine, food, and everything else in and out of here, but when they gave him the one-month deadline, he fired me, and my mother gave us large retirement payouts,” he added, staring at me.

“Brandon is a strange man, as you’ve probably noticed. He treats anyone who comes close to him badly while entertaining the wrong people who are after his money. So are you only here because of his money?” he inquired.

I just stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. “Wait a minute, you earlier said you were in high school together?”

“Sponsorship to expensive schools was one of the benefits my father received when he worked for his father’s father. Brandon was a complete jerk to me during that time, and I despised him until I met the real Brandon, who was hidden behind the veil of hatred.” He stated this while looking at his watch.

He stood up and walked away, despite the fact that I had not responded to his question.

“Wait a minute, how am I supposed to look after him?”