HIS SWEET REVENGE

Bryan’s POV

I keep thinking about the letters Celine wrote to me and the contents. The words keep resounding in my ears and I wonder why she isn’t acting as if she is responsible for the letter.

I didn’t see her this morning before coming to work but she pretended not to have anything to do with them the last time.

She was as submissive as ever. Her head was lowered in respect as ever.

Even though I had assumed that she was doing this just to get to me and make me soft on her, I am having a different feeling about it.

As much as I try not to think of it, I am curious to know her answers to the questions I have.

How long is she going to pretend?

I am coming back from work very late today despite how much in a haste I was to come to ask Celine if she is the writer of those letters or not. I know she is the one but I am still going to question her.

My maids would never do a thing like that. Celine is the only one with such audacity despite how scared she is of me.

Surprisingly, my nightmares are no longer disturbing as I thought they would.

Sometimes it takes a week to get over one night of a terrible nightmare. Instead of thinking about my last nightmare, I am disturbed by the letter I saw at my bedside when I woke up.

When the car comes to a halt, I open the door myself and get out before the driver can come to get the door for me. I drag my briefcase with me in tiredness, strolling towards the front door.

I pull it open and enter. The butler meets me by the door and bow.

Camilla is behind him and she lowers her head in greeting.

I realize Camilla and I haven’t talked about what happened between us. I walk past them without a response and I say to Camilla. “Follow me.”

I don’t know if she heard or if she is following as instructed but I know she will unless she is ready to be fired from her job. This is why I don’t like to be lenient with my workers. They tend to take things for granted.

I take the staircase up and walk closer to the room, wondering where Celine is.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I get to the door and throw it open before venturing inside and leaving the door ajar since I can now hear footsteps behind me.

Suddenly, I no longer feel like talking to Camilla. Why did I ask her to come here in the first place? To apologize? Apologize to my maid? Never!

“Get me Celine and Jason”, I instruct calmly before loosening my tie and dumping my briefcase.

“Ok, Master”, She answers and she takes the exit, closing the door quietly behind her.

I sigh and walk to the bedroom to sit on the bed with a heavy flop.

On second thought, I feel Celine is doing this so I can question her about how she lived with the pregnancy of my child and how she catered for him alone until now.

But is this my fault?

No, it isn’t.

I hear a knock on the door and I jerk my head up in surprise.

That was fast!

“Come in”, I permit them to enter as I let go of my suit.

Celine comes in with Jason in her arms. When his eyes fall on me, he flashes me a smile and I reciprocate.

My child deserves the best. I want him to be proud to be my son and that is what I am going to be doing soon.

“Hello, baby”, I open my arms to receive him and he stretches his arms excitedly.

“Daddy!” He giggles when I tickle him and I stand still at the word that came out of his mouth.

Did he just call me daddy?!

I can’t hide my surprise as my mouth drops open in shock. When I notice Celine’s confusion, the surprise is wiped off my face.

I adjust him in my arms and clear my throat before moving back to the bed.

Celine is still standing with her head down, waiting for orders to leave or stay.

“Why the pretense?” I ask, without mincing words.

“Pretense?” She furrows her brows in confusion.

“Yes”, I nod my head and place Jason on my lap. “Why are you pretending?”

“I don’t understand, sir”, she replies calmly.

“Who wrote those letters to me?” I question her directly and her face falls before she lowers her head down in guilt.

Isn’t she going to deny it? Instead of answering, silence ensues and it is making me uncomfortable probably because of Jason’s constant blabber interrupting the awkward silence.

“I asked you a question, Celine”, I snap at her, unsettling Jason who suddenly became quiet.

“I wrote them”, she responds with all honesty.

“Why?”

“Why?” She looks up again with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, why. Don’t make me repeat myself once again”, I retort in a not too loud tone, ignoring Jason’s gaze. I need to make things clear to Celine.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You just went ahead to write without thinking of a reason or the consequences of your actions?” She is quiet. “Do I look like I need your motivational quotes?”

“I’m sorry”, she apologizes. “It was meant to help…”

“I don’t need your f***ing help, Celine”, I yell at her. “I don’t need your help. Why do you even want to help? Why do you think you can help?”

“Alright. I’m sorry, it won’t repeat itself again.” She apologizes once more, making guilt sip through me for the very first time.

I’m sure it is because I am conscious of Jason’s presence.

Expelling a sigh, I wave her away. “Go!”

She has apologized already and I am sure she won’t make that silly mistake again. Also, there is no need to ask her any more questions about the letter since she has apologized.

She is hesitant, gazing at Jason’s tiny frame on my lap. “I was just about to put him to bed.”

I look down to see him in his pajamas already. I want him to stay here with me tonight and if possible sleep next to me. I want to savor this moment and use it to wipe out the bad memories of when I lost my first fruit. Jason is making up for it all and I want him to know me as his father and best friend.

Someday, he is going to be my heir. The bonding should start now. It should start tonight. There is no need for further delay.

“You can go”, I say to her again.

“Sir?”

“I said you can go”, I grit my teeth in an attempt not to scare the boy and make him cry which will make it impossible for us to sleep next to each other tonight.

“Go away. My son is sleeping next to me tonight!” I announce, signaling to her to go as quietly as possible.

She nods her head, bows once more, and turns to go out with reluctance. Jason is busy tucking at the buttons on my shirt to notice his mother’s exit and I really hope the night goes well and he doesn’t wake me up with his loud shrill cry for his mother.