The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon)
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.

"Yes, the Jerk desired to bring down the corporation because he believed the world was unjust to him. Everyone in here is a vulture solely here for the sake of his money, and no one cares about him. You're plotting to steal his company before he's even gone underground!" I indicated.

"Hold on, young lady, we've been loyal to Mr. Fraser, but he's pushed us into this," one of them stated.

"Before we waste time proving who did what, let me assure you that Brandon will not be the company's downfall," I began by asking who they intended to replace Brandon with but they were all in complete silence.

"Brandon's idea is to allow him twenty-six days to run the company. During this time, he will choose his successor and he will make you all shareholders of a firm he is attempting to buy as compensation for trying to sink this company," I declared as they all stared up at me in surprise.

I noticed that some of them began to take seats, clearly intrigued, while a few refused to accept my proposal.

"Which business is this?" they asked.

"Gentex group of companies," I replied. I knew Brandon was going to be pi*ed but if we got the company back, we needed board members. And his members were money-thirsty company grabbing vultures and on top of it, they were very loyal.

"Are you referring to the former Inc biotech firm?" one of them enquired.

"Yes, my name is Thalia Nash, and I made the mistake of signing that corporation over to my husband, who betrayed me. Brandon wants to buy the company, and if he does, I'll be looking for new board members and shareholders," I stated. They all took their seats in shock.

The majority of them appeared to be aware of Gentex. And, if my memory served me correctly, Mandel was founded on the backs of smaller businesses, and if it absorbed Gentex and turned into a manufacturing hub for medical devices, we'd be talking about quadruple billions in the room.

"Before we get too excited, let's clarify why Brandon is assisting you and how long you've known him."

"Does Brandon ever need a reason to want something?" I inquired.

"Is it necessary for us to purchase the shares once the takeover is successful?"

"No, you become automatic shareholders unlike being board members. The shares will be automatically assigned to you; it's a reward for attempting to bring this corporation down," I explained. "We're wasting time now, so if you're not interested, you may all leave."

"Where is Brandon? We want to hear everything he has to say."

"I indicated that you can go if you are not interested."

The room became quiet, they were all debating, and I observed that most of them had their phones out, undoubtedly looking for information about me and Gentex's value.

"Is it possible to give us a few days to consider it?" Someone inquired.

Nestor nodded when I looked in his direction. "Okay," I said as I took my files out of my bag. "While you think about Gentex," I said, "Let's talk about Mandel," and handed them the month's action plans.

Just like that, the takeover was placed on hold in an instant. The discussion concluded with comments and revisions, and the room was cleared. I stood up and took off my jacket, amazed at what I'd accomplished. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine such a Thalia existed. When I turned to look at Nestor, I noticed he was staring at his watch intently.

He stated, "I need to take you back; something is wrong with Brandon." As I glanced at him, my heart stopped for an inexplicable reason as my smile got wiped out of my face. "Thalia!" He yelled at me and told me I needed to hurry up.

"What do you mean by something is wrong with him? Didn't you just talk to him when we got here?" I inquired, my heart pounding.

"He gave me explicit instructions yesterday to make sure you met with the board members," he explained. I approached him and slapped him across the face. In a fit of rage, I turned and stormed out of the room; I had no idea how to go to the elevator, so I paused and waited for him.

He led the way with a solemn expression, and we were at the beach in an hour. I quickly removed my shoes and dashed to the house, but the gate was locked.

"Brandon! Brandon!" I called out as tears streamed down my face. I was filled with regret; we could have turned around if I hadn't been upset when he didn't respond. "Please Brandon, open up," I shouted out, even though I knew he wouldn't hear me, and then I remembered his door required his facial recognition.

As Nestor approached, I fell to the ground. "Are you able to unlock the gate without facial recognition? Do you know how to log in?" I inquired, but he shrugged. I wanted to smack him across the face, but I needed his help.

"If he had override it, all we'll need is a password; if he didn't, there'll be no way in," he said, his face down.

"All right, let's try passwords and pretend he overrode it," I said as I started guessing, "what is his birthday?"

He responded, "That's just too obvious."

"Can you tell me what it is?" I was furious with him that I screamed at him.

He said it to me, but it wasn't the password. We tested his parents' names, girls he slept with more than twice, but that wasn't it. The company, favorite foods, sports, trips, automobiles, and television shows, but nothing.

Nestor seemed to know everything about Brandon, which was strange given Brandon's claim that everyone around him was only interested in his money. He either knew too much or was a stalker or creep. However, I choose to disregard it.

We tried everything, but it didn't work. I really wanted Brandon to be playing a joke, but something didn't feel right, and I knew something bad had happened to him.

Nestor had already given up, so I advised him to phone the fire department or the police. He took out his phone and then came to a complete stop.

"Try your name," he said.

Brandon had only known me for a few days and the house was built two years ago, so I was enraged as I glanced up at him.

"I'm going to smack you once more, I advise you to be cautious."

"When we left the house, I noticed how he was looking at you," he muttered, pushing me away and entering my name, but the gate stayed shut. Even though he tried both of my names, the door remained locked.

I screamed at him, "You're wasting your time, call the st*pid cops!"

He scratched his head and asked, "What is your Nickname, he must have given you a nickname?" I just gazed at him. "I'm going to call the cops if it doesn't work," he said.

"Brainless Thalia," I said.

He raised his eyebrows at me before punching it in. To my surprise, the gate clicked open and he smiled. I didn't have time to be astonished; I needed to get to Brandon as soon as possible. I dashed inside, leaving him with his dumb grin.