The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 60

Thalia’s Pov

We slept in late, I was so exhausted from the trip. I believe I was overdoing it and stressing out the baby.

Brandon was correct, but the good news was that my prototype was progressing; the next step was to test my guinea pigs. All I could do was hope for the best. I was so exhausted and restarting was out of the options.

But first, there was the pointless fundraiser, which Brandon was insisting I attended. I didn’t want to go, but he demanded that I do so.

I never told him I wanted to take over; in fact, I turned down his offer on the first day we met, but he mistook my lying for wanting to take over.

I couldn’t blame him because I had agreed to attend all of the covert indoor meetups when, in reality, I was using them as a shield to keep track of everything I needed in my lab or who to consult. That was what happened when one was a bumbling liar.

There was no way out of the labyrinth of lies I had created for myself. But I was going to go along with it. I still needed a barrier to hide behind until my guinea pigs were satisfactorily tested.

But I agreed to attend and I had previously chosen a dress for myself, and Nestor was scheduled to pick me up at 7:00 p.m.

My mission was simple: show up, be introduced, mingle for a few minutes, and then leave on the guise of being exhausted. To be honest, I was exhausted, but there was one thing that terrified me.

The press or whatever lies were going to print the next morning, but Brandon assured me that there was no press invitation, it was a press-free fundraising event. I had no idea such a thing existed but dealing with Brandon Fraiser anything was possible.

I turned and found he was awake, he had his new usual face on. I recently noticed it, it was like he was trying to figure me out. “How are you this morning?” I spoke first.

“Good morning, you were snoring,” he replied.

I got up, embarrassed, and covered my mouth. “No way, you’re lying,” I said.

“Yes, you were; I’m sure I can hear you in other rooms. And you can snore for all Americans,” he added. While holding my pregnant tummy I moved to him and gave him a pinch.

“What was that for?” He asked.

“For your colossal grin,” I replied and I patted his hair and said, “I think I shouldn’t go to this party; we haven’t had a movie night in a long time.”

He swiftly stood up without allowing me to object, saying, “No, you must attend, we can do movie night tomorrow.” He stated it In a way that suggested that he was ordering me around.

He seemed to be commanding me. He walked into the bathroom and I could hear him vomiting.

It was the new normal every morning, he would vomit everything he ate, followed by blood. It was awful to watch him go through it day after day.

I got up and went into the restroom to assist him, but it was locked. I was perplexed and scratched my head.

He always puked with the door open all the time. Perhaps he wanted to be alone. I went to the kitchen and decided to begin making breakfast eggs, it was his favorite but was stopped when the door opened.

“You can go rest, I’ll do the cooking,” he remarked when the door opened and he strolled in.

Without looking at him, I said, “You need to rest.”

“I always do the cooking,” he replied.

“Brandon, please quit commanding me. I’m not sick, but I’m pregnant, and you need more rest than I do,” I screamed.

I turned to see him staring at me, surprised; he had black circles under his eyes and his skin appeared to be peeling away. He turned and walked away in silence.

I hurriedly shut off the stove and followed him. “I’m sorry, Brandon; I didn’t mean to offend you; it’s just that I’m under a lot of stress.”

“That’s why I want you to unwind and let me prepare meals for you,” he remarked, feigning a smile. I was very familiar with his fake smile, I had spent much too much time and picked on some of his traits. I approached him and hugged him.

“Are you alright? You do not look good” I enquired.

“I’m fine,” he said, but before I could respond, the baby kicked inside of me. Brandon felt it, and as I raised his eyes to look at him, he questioned, “Is that little Brandon?”

“No, it’s Thalia, and I believe we should conduct a gender test,” I responded. I just didn’t get why he changed his stand in knowing the sex of the baby.

“No, no, that’s what motivates me to get up in the morning,” he swiftly responded and changed the subject. But I let go; if that’s what got him out of bed, I was going to let go.

“You must prepare yourself; I texted Nestor to pick you up early, and you can use my other residence in the city,” he muttered and stood up.

I was left with my mouth open but I reminded myself that it was just a single night. I struggled to get out of bed and proceeded to take a bath. After that, I ate my breakfast, which he, of course, prepared.

Brandon was too busy with his tablet so I slept for the entire day, the pregnancy was taking its toll on me, and all I wanted to do was oversleep and miss the party.

However, as soon as Nestor arrived, Brandon awoke me. I was furious, I found he had packed me a small bag “You have to look good,” he stated but I ignored him and walked out of the house with Nestor trailing behind.

“Is the machine making any progress?

He enquired