The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)

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38

Brandon’s Pov

“Your space?” she exclaimed loudly. “Please don’t say you own the bridge,” she inquired.

“I now own it, having purchased it just yesterday,” I replied.

In disbelief, she came to a halt and paused for a moment. “Is there anything that you do not own?”

“Thalia, that’s our secret memorial,” I explained, “and no one should tres pass it.”

As we continued to dance, she responded, “Rich jerk.”

Yes, I was a rich jerk who always purchased anything I wanted, whenever I felt like it, I chuckled. I

wasn’t sure about Thalia, but the bridge was important to me, and I didn’t want any idiot tres passing or

destroying it.

Purchasing an ancient abandoned bridge was neither a rush nor something difficult. The city council

mistook me for some wealthy individual wanting to develop the region, but instead, I was busy erecting

a fence around the property and issuing threatening notice to anyone who dared to tres pass.

I suddenly felt my chest heavy and came to a halt; I’d had enough fun for the day and was free of

discomfort. I needed a nudge to get me back on track. In my condemned life, spending a whole day of

fun was never on the agenda whether I wanted it or not.

“Are you all OK, Brandon?” She inquired.

“I’m OK,” I answered, gripping my chest, but with Thalia’s support, I walked to a nearby counter. She This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

was running about getting a glass of water and passing it to me.

“Can you please take a seat?” I requested her, holding her hand. She, on the other hand, was terrified

and overthinking everything.

I came to a halt and began laughing as I glanced at her. She came to a halt and glanced at me,

perplexed. “ “Brandon?”

“Can we just sit by the pool and relax?” I asked as I walked to the pool, removed my shoes, sat by the

pool and placed my feet in the water. She remained still facing the floor. I coughed when she sat down

next to me.

“Are you certain you’re fine?” she inquired.

“Thalia, I’m perfectly fine!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. With her continual probing and pestering,

she was beginning to anger me. I knew she just cared about me and was only making sure I was okay.

I was not supposed to be angry at her but the horrible disease that was spoiling our ideal night, a night

I had hoped to spend with her. She strolled up to where I was seated, removed her shoes, and sat

down.

“I think we should call Nestor?” she requested.

“No, no, no, I’m fine, can we just speak, I’ll call Nester when it starts hurting,” I suggested, and asked

her to make something tasty that I would eat. Anything that would keep her occupied and away from

me.

In a flash, she was up and out. I was meant to be rejoicing when I struck the water in frustration. I was

so upset at the world, but the stup*d disease always managed to bring me back to reality. It just

couldn’t let me have a little fun, slamming me back to reality every time I found anything I enjoyed.

I merely sat there, My body began to heat up, I was waiting for death, which would not come. I

carelessly removed my shirt, pants, and boxer shorts without thinking. All of my garments felt as though

they were boiling hot on my skin.

Thalia was about to come in, but everything felt like it was scorching my flesh. Slowly, I slid into the

pool; the water was chilly to the touch and felt cool against my skin. Closing my eyes made me feel

calm and peaceful.

I had no idea how much time had passed, but the mention of my name startled me awake. Thalia was

holding a plate of food and her eyes were closed when I looked up. For someone who has just

implanted sperm into her vaginal canal, she was pretty shy.

“What are you up to, Brandon?” She was afraid as she inquired.

I grinned, realizing that her conduct was endearing, and I planned to take advantage of it. “It became

heated in here,” I explained.

Brandon, She gasped, “You….are naked, you….are absolutely naked…” She was drenched in sweat

and trembling.

I chuckled and chose to ignore her while I relaxed in the refreshing water. She was stuck to the floor,

either because the woman was strange or because she had feelings for me.

“Are you not going to feed a sick man?” I inquired, but she remained silent. I motioned to the remote on

the counter and told her to hit the green button to make the room dark and hide anything she didn’t

want to see.

She practically ran to the counter and clicked the button, even though the scenario was quite

unpleasant for her. She returned and sat down, arranging the food on the table’s edges. I got closer to

her and immediately went to the meal, asking what she had cooked.

“Your favorite, shrimp,” she remarked softly.

She was attempting to stay away from me at all costs. The woman was dealing with a lot of troubles;

my body was pale and unattractive, yet she was agitated over a pile of dead meat.

I proposed, “Feed me.”

“Brandon…” she exclaimed, her face flushed. “Now you want me to feed you while you’re…naked?”

She inquired further.

“Thalia, I’m unwell; why do I have to remind you of it every day?” I added, “You’re such a m*ron.”

She averted her gaze as if she was contemplating something, then grabbed the dish and began flinging

it around.

She was quiet at first, and all I did was stare at her. I was laughing hysterically and tried to figure out

what she was thinking.

Her day consisted of everything from insemination to feeding a sick, naked man in a pool.


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