Revenge in Thompson Estate

Thanks to Camila's generosity, Carmen and I became the only college graduates from our small town.

I had hoped to work for Camila after graduation, but Carmen seized the opportunity and ended up entangled with Nathaniel, which drove Camila to her grave.

Carmen smugly rubbed her belly and said to me, "Camila was too naive. She couldn't have a child, and you know a wealthy man can’t go without an heir!"

Her ingratitude enraged me, and I resolved to seek revenge through Nathaniel.

Nathaniel might be low on energy, but with my natural charisma, I was born to nurture. Carmen might dream of gaining power through motherhood, but she can't outshine me.

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On the day Carmen moved into the Thompson estate, she couldn't contain her excitement and overloaded Instagram with five posts. Each showcased a different luxury car, designer watch, or lavish wardrobe, as though she had already claimed victory.

I chuckled to myself, knowing how shocked Carmen would be to discover that I was here too.

I turned off my phone and shifted my focus to Nathaniel. Even in his drunken state, he maintained an air of controlled intensity—how did he captivate Camila to such a disastrous end?

As Nathaniel's secretary, observing my boss while he was drunk felt improper, yet he was crucial to my plot for vengeance. How else could I understand my tool without careful examination?

My fingers traced down his body, ignoring his involuntary shivers. After slipping off his shoes, I prepared to leave.

“Brooklynn? Where are you going?” His voice was steady and rasped with desire.

So, he had been awake, feigning sleep all along.

With Camila gone, he had no reason to remain celibate. After that chaotic night with Carmen disrupted the household, he was extra cautious with women, always requiring clear intentions before getting involved.

But men, they love variety, especially dishes as tempting as me, with a figure unlike the graceful Camila.

Realizing I held no malicious intent, Nathaniel offered a subtle invitation, and I turned back to him.

Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating our faces as silence enveloped us, allowing our bodies to intertwine, filling the room with a seductive aura.

The next morning, when we appeared together at breakfast, Carmen's scream pierced the air.

"Brooklynn! You wretched woman! How dare you seduce Nathaniel!"

She pointed at the faint red marks on my neck, ready to storm over, drawing curious glances from the household staff.

"Calm down," Nathaniel murmured, frowning slightly as he placed an arm in front of me, inadvertently drawing Carmen into his embrace to shield her belly from the table.

She fell into his arms and switched to a coy tone, "Nathaniel, I'm worried you'll be deceived by this schemer."

I regarded her with disdain. Nathaniel was nearly forty—calling him uncle might be more appropriate.

Moreover, his furrowed brows signaled his dislike for her sugarcoated voice.

I lowered my head humbly, “Nathaniel, I've delivered the documents. I'll head back to the office now.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise at my deft intervention, and he looked at me with amused curiosity, “Alright.”

I hadn’t walked far when the sound of Carmen's whining grew louder behind me, "Nathaniel, you won’t fall for Brooklynn, will you? Don’t look at her! I have the baby!"

I masked my disdain with lowered eyes. A baby? More like a cursed burden.

It was this child that drove Camila into despair—a lady as gentle as roses, who chose self-destruction over retaliation against Carmen.

Back then, Carmen ingratiated herself with Camila, coaxing her into bringing her to the estate for a taste of luxury, only to sneak into Nathaniel’s bed that night.

Once she confirmed her pregnancy, she relentlessly tormented Camila with talk of her hopes for the child, the pains of pregnancy, and cruel remarks that "wives who can’t bear children are disgraceful."

Everyone knew Nathaniel and Camila had been childless after twenty years of marriage.

But Camila was like a mother reborn to us, and Carmen exploited those tender emotions to torment her.

Such a gracious and elegant lady, unable to sever her ties to love, yet unwilling to dishonor the Thompsons, truly swallowed sleeping pills as atonement.

And Carmen thought she had struck gold, initially aiming to extort child support, but unexpectedly found a chance to cement her place.

She even made a spectacle at Camila’s funeral, demanding to meet the Thompsons’ elders, and ultimately, with her two-month pregnancy, moved into the Thompsons’ estate.

Carmen documented all these details on Twitter, one day pushing a notification to my phone.

It must be fate, entrusting me—someone deeply familiar with Carmen and greatly admiring Camila—to uphold justice.

Now, as I listened to the conversation behind me, I intentionally swayed my hips, making my progress seem laborious, surely reminding Nathaniel of last night's intensity.

How could Nathaniel, a man accustomed to commanding, endure Carmen’s incessant meddling for long?

Isn't it just about having a child? My family produced kids endlessly, with eleven siblings born every year without fail.

And my physique surpasses even my mother's. Carmen, you just wait.