Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 109: Shady Figures

Chapter 109: Shady Figures

Arthur Sutherland drummed his fingers against the car door, his sharp eyes fixed on the modest apartment building Jerica Evans called home. The sleek, black car parked discreetly at the curb was a far cry from the bustling world inside that building—simple, unassuming, and seemingly disconnected from the high-stakes games Arthur often found himself playing. Yet, here he was, drawn into yet another puzzle.

Jerica Evans.

His wife Lydia’s recent obsession with the young woman had raised more than a few alarms. Lydia, prone to whims and fixations, usually turned her attention to grandiose charities or socialite feuds. But Jerica was different. There was nothing about the girl’s life or demeanor to suggest why she had become such an object of Lydia’s interest. That is, until Arthur’s investigation uncovered a familiar name tied to Jerica’s life—a name that stirred memories he had long buried.

Henry Bassinger.

Arthur leaned back, the memory of Henry’s face swimming to the surface of his mind. Henry Bassinger, a trusted confidant and once a formidable figure in the Glover household, had been a peculiar thorn in Arthur’s side many years ago. Lydia’s father, the formidable patriarch of the Glover family, had assigned Henry to Lydia as a protector and, though unspoken, a spy. It was no secret to Arthur that the patriarch had wanted someone to report on Lydia’s well-being and her husband’s actions.

For years, Henry had dutifully served the Sutherland household, always composed, always professional. But when Lydia spiraled into despair after their daughter’s death, Henry returned to the Glover estate. The timing of his departure had felt deliberate, almost as if he had been waiting for the right moment to sever ties.

What Arthur had always found strange, however, was Henry’s refusal to return to the Sutherland mansion when the Glover patriarch had insisted. Henry had defied an order, something unheard of in the Glover family, and yet the patriarch allowed him to live—and leave. It was as if some unspoken understanding had passed between them, one that Arthur had never been privy to.

Years later, Henry Bassinger had faded into obscurity, and Arthur had all but forgotten him. Until now.

Arthur frowned, his mind working through the layers of implication. Henry Bassinger, back in the fold. But why Jerica?

The timing couldn’t be a coincidence. Lydia’s obsessive focus on Jerica, combined with Henry’s reappearance, raised too many questions. Was Jerica some pawn in a larger game? Or was she the key to some old secret neither Lydia nor Henry had ever revealed?

Arthur noticed Henry making a turn and approaching Jerica’s building. He was told he could find Henry there if he wanted to but he didn’t believe it until now.

Arthur’s jaw clenched as his mind churned with possibilities. Henry Bassinger’s presence near Jerica Evans’s apartment was no random occurrence—it was deliberate, calculated. For a man like Henry, whose every move held purpose, this development could mean only one thing: Jerica was central to something far greater than she appeared.

Arthur signaled his operative near the van with a subtle nod. The man acknowledged with a tip of his baseball cap and disappeared into the vehicle. Moments later, a group of men emerged, moving with precision and coordination. Their mission was clear—Henry Bassinger wasn’t walking away without answers.

Arthur watched the operation unfold from the safety of his car. Henry moved toward the apartment building, his stride casual, but Arthur noticed the telltale signs of vigilance in his every step. Henry was cautious—too cautious. The years hadn’t dulled his instincts, but they wouldn’t be sharp enough to anticipate this ambush.

The team struck swiftly. Before Henry could react, he was restrained, his arms pinned behind him as the men hustled him into the waiting van. The vehicle sped away without hesitation, leaving no trace of the encounter. It was flawless, executed with the kind of precision Arthur demanded from his operations.

Yet, as Arthur sat in his car, watching the now-empty street, he felt no satisfaction. This wasn’t about brute force or intimidation. It was about unraveling the threads that tied Henry Bassinger, Lydia Sutherland, and Jerica Evans together. Arthur had questions, and Henry would provide the answers.

But something gnawed at him—a flicker of doubt. What was it about Jerica that drew not only Lydia’s unhealthy fixation but also Henry’s calculated interest? And why, despite all his years of carefully crafted detachment, did Arthur himself feel a pull toward her—a curiosity that refused to be ignored?

Arthur’s fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically as he lingered. Something held him back. Something uncharacteristically sentimental.

His gaze drifted back to the building. The warm yellow lights inside flickered on as dusk deepened into night. The red recording dot on the corner camera blinked back to life—his cue that the temporary disruption had been lifted. The subtle sound of a chuckle floated through the cool evening air, drawing his attention.

And there they were.

Jerica and Jared strolled down the sidewalk, oblivious to his presence. Jerica leaned into Jared’s shoulder, her giggle light and carefree, the sound of someone deeply in love and content. Jared glanced at her, a soft smile gracing his face—an expression Arthur recognized immediately. It was the look of a man utterly and unconditionally devoted.

Arthur’s chest tightened unexpectedly. He didn’t know if it was envy, regret, or something else entirely, but watching the couple felt like witnessing something pure, something untouched by the chaos he operated in daily. There was a simplicity to their affection.

For a fleeting moment, Arthur allowed himself to study Jerica’s face. There was something about her—a magnetic quality that made her laugh more captivating than it had any right to be. Her smile wasn’t just joyful; it was disarming, infectious, and oddly familiar in a way he couldn’t place.

As the couple disappeared into the building, Arthur’s hand hovered over the car door handle. Part of him wanted to follow, to uncover the mystery of why this woman had become the axis around which so many lives were suddenly revolving—Lydia’s, Henry’s, even his own. But another part of him, one that rarely made itself known, urged him to let it be. To leave her in her bubble of happiness.

For now.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur finally pulled away from the curb. His jaw clenched as he shifted his focus back to the task at hand. Henry Bassinger would provide answers soon enough. And if Jerica Evans truly was the key to something larger, Arthur would find out.

But for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of doubt—a rare hesitation that followed him as the city swallowed his car into the night.

Jared stepped out of the apartment building, the cool evening air brushing against his face. He had told Jerica he needed to pick up groceries for tomorrow’s breakfast—a plausible excuse that kept her from worrying. But the real reason for his errand weighed heavily on his mind.

As he approached the apartment security booth, his steps slowed. The guard, a seasoned man with sharp eyes and a discreet demeanor, stood waiting. Without a word, the guard handed Jared a small piece of tissue paper, folded neatly. Jared unfolded it with a practiced calm, his pulse quickening when he saw the car plate number scrawled in bold, uneven letters.

It was a fancy number, one that screamed wealth and power—exactly the kind of thing that made his stomach churn. Jared’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he processed the implications. He slipped the tissue into his pocket and handed the guard a crisp $100 bill. The man gave a barely perceptible nod before returning to his post, but Jared could feel the weight of his gaze as he walked away.

Jared’s mind raced as he stepped onto the sidewalk. Henry Bassinger. The name had become a shadow in his thoughts, a specter tied to the Glovers and now, inexplicably, to Jerica’s apartment. Jared had already seen Henry loitering nearby a couple of times, and each sighting had set his nerves ablaze. He had chalked it up to coincidence, perhaps paranoia. But this? Another car, another watcher? This was no accident.

His fists clenched at his sides as he walked, his strides purposeful but steady. The deeper he delved into the past and his quest to dismantle the Glovers, the more he’d tried to shield Jerica from the fallout. She deserved none of this—no shadows lurking in the corners of her life, no fear of the unknown circling like a predator. Yet, despite all his precautions, the storm seemed to be finding her anyway.

As he turned a corner, Jared paused beside the window of a convenience store, pretending to study the display. His eyes darted to the street’s reflection on the glass, scanning for anything out of place. There it was—a sleek black sedan parked just across the road, its engine idling softly. The heavily tinted windows gave no hint of who was inside, but the air around it felt charged, heavy with unseen intent.

His heart thudded painfully against his ribs. Was this about him? Or worse, was Jerica the target? The thought sent a cold dread spiraling through him. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his nerves. He had to stay focused—fear wouldn’t help him now.