The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 29

The Art Of Revenge by MK20 Gab Chapter 29 Thalia’s Pov

My anxiety was over the ceiling, I couldn’t even sit down, but there was a surge of exhilaration as I watched Jessica, hopeless and panicking. She was shrieking, shaking, and shouting at everyone like a madwoman.

People always maintained that revenge never brought back what one had lost, all it did was fill the hole that was left. That was a total lie, there I was with a huge smile on my face. To be honest, I had no idea if Josh was still alive.

I shoved that notion aside and focused on his sk*nk. It was fulfilling watching her hopeless, and I wished I was present to laugh at her physically.

She was very terrified and sweating profusely revealing the beast that dwelt inside her. The beast that was always hidden under the veil of cement of makeup, led open to an old wrinkled face.

We all noticed the ugliness that married her attitude. As I glanced at Brandon, who was preoccupied with his tablet, a surge of exhilaration washed over me. He was most likely seeking to learn more about Josh’s whereabouts.

“Brandon?” I called ecstatically.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Do you have any wine or anything strong?”

He took out his remote, which I recognized was some sort of house control. When he clicked a button, one of the walls transformed into an alcohol cellar. Alcohol with a variety of flavors and types.

From the look of it looked pricey. There were bottles of wine, vodka, spirits, tequila, and brandy. Except for the strange sex rooms, the man had built a fantasy house, and I was starting to get impressed. I dashed down to the cellars and grabbed anything that caught my eye. We would have partied all night if Brandon was in the condition to drink.

I walked back to the bed with a glass in my hand and noticed Brandon staring intently at the bottle I was holding, but he was not getting a single drop.

He inquired, “Where is my glass?”

“How long has it been since you last took a drink?” I inquired. He remained silent for a minute as if he were pondering, then he replied, “two years and three months.” “That’s one more reason why you’re not drinking,” I retorted.

He locked his gaze on me for a minute, his face flushed with rage. I began regretting the idea of getting a drink.

I got out of bed and proceeded to the kitchen, where I poured some pineapple juice into a glass and returned to the bedroom. The look he gave me would have killed a full-grown elephant. I walked over to his side and set it on the table before returning to my seat and getting my glass of wine and went on with watching the sk*nk.

“By the way, where is the helicopter?” I inquired but got no response. When I turned around, I found him staring at my glass.

“Brandon No, keep in mind your condition?”

“A sip won’t do any harm,” he replied.

“No, we don’t want to risk the operation. What if you fall I’ll? Remember I have no idea what the plan is?” I spoke in a solemn tone.

He was silent for a moment, as if he were contemplating, then he clenched his teeth and turned, his gaze fixed on his iPad.

I took a big gulp of the fresh wine. I never drank, but the worry and excitement were too much for me to bear. I turned to face him again, but he was far too solemn and quiet. I reached out and gently stroked his cheek, taking his temperature.

He hesitated for a split second, and I knew he was about to say something stup*d. Whenever my touch braced his skin, that was his usual response. It was strange, but I didn’t want to think too much of it because there was a good chance he liked me.

I asked him whether he liked me the other day because I was getting the impression that he did. Because I felt I had cornered him, I had to apologize for the inquiry.

He was a haughty jerk who would never admit to falling for a ditz like me. That was a possibility but it was obvious he had not been with a woman for a long time and my touch was bringing back what he was missing. It wasn’t love, he was definitely lonely and would do anything in a skirt.

“You are strangely staring at me?” He jolted me awake from my reverie. My fingers remained on his cheek, and I had no intention of letting go. He was a little warm, but not overly so.