Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 25: Spite-filled Words

Chapter 25: Spite-filled Words

Jared slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against the cool wall in the narrow hallway. His breath came in ragged bursts, his pulse racing, and he cast a quick glance in the mirror across from him, checking to see if she had followed him. Relief flooded through him when he realized she hadn’t.

"What the hell was I about to do?" he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the heat that still coursed through his veins. The thought of her, her body pressed against his, had nearly made him lose control. His eyes flicked down to his hands, still tingling with the memory of her warmth.

He wanted her, needed her in a way he hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. But what had come over him?

He bit his lip, frustration boiling over as the image of Harold from the night before flashed in his mind. How far had Harold pushed her? That question clawed at him, and yet, when he’d had her there, so close, all he’d managed to do was treat her the same way he always did—physical, possessive, without thinking.

His heart sank as he recalled her spite-filled words from their last fight a long time ago.

"You’ve only treated me like a sex doll! I regret offering myself to you whenever you pleased."

The sharpness of her voice haunted him, cutting deeper than he cared to admit. He exhaled, his face darkening with guilt. He had wanted to ask her, to apologize, to explain... but instead, he’d pushed her further away. She was right. He’d treated her like something to satisfy his desires, never giving her the emotional intimacy she needed.

With a resigned sigh, Jared dragged his feet down the hall, the weight of his failures heavier with every step. Maybe when he got home tonight, she’d throw those words at him again. He deserved it, after all.

How was she supposed to take what had just happened in the records room? As a confession of his love? No, it was probably another wound she would nurse in silence, thinking he had attacked her all over again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, jerking him out of his thoughts. Natasha.

"I’ve got what we need," he said curtly, his voice devoid of warmth, and ended the call without waiting for a response.

-----

Jerica sat behind her desk, rubbing her temples, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her pulse was still irregular, and the memory of Jared’s closeness lingered in a way that made her both uncomfortable and... thrilled.

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. No. She needed clarity, not these confusing emotions.

But a thought flickered in her mind, unbidden and dangerous. Was he there for me? Her heart fluttered involuntarily, betraying her attempt at staying grounded. It didn’t make sense, yet something about his presence had felt different, more intense. He hadn’t come just to look at a file—she could feel that in her bones.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Harold standing by her office door until his eyes met hers. She startled slightly, her breath catching for just a moment before she forced a half-hearted smile. Harold raised his hand, offering a friendly wave, but Jerica felt no warmth in it.

One of the reasons she had kept up the facade of cordiality with Harold was simple—everyone in the office knew they had been friends. If she suddenly cut him off, the rumors would spiral out of control, and she didn’t want that headache. But the other reason was more complex. She needed to understand what Harold was up to, to uncover his motives before he made his next move.

She leaned back in her chair, her mind wandering back to the file Jared had been looking at. It had seemed ordinary enough—an old land transfer deal between two companies. But one of those companies was a subsidiary of the Glover family’s conglomerate.

Coincidence?

The question gnawed at her, filling her with doubt. Jared was too meticulous for coincidences.

What was he really doing here? Her instincts screamed that there was something more beneath the surface.

She didn’t use traditional filing systems; everything in her records was sorted according to her own unique method, one only she could decipher. Jared wouldn’t have been able to find that file so easily on his own. Which begged the question: was he there looking for that file, or was that something innocuous?

Her eyes shifted back to Harold. If Harold had ties to the Glover family, this could go deeper than she had anticipated. Perhaps Harold wasn’t here for the Braddock family’s bidding after all. Maybe his allegiance was to someone more powerful, more dangerous. If that were true, then Harold’s interest in her wasn’t just personal—it was tactical.

She straightened, her mind now racing as she pieced together the fragments of what had happened. Was Harold feeding information to someone? Was Jared caught in the middle of a power play between two rival families? And if so, where did that leave her?

Harold took a step into her office, his eyes warm and inviting, but Jerica felt a chill crawl up her spine. Something wasn’t right. She forced another smile, but her mind was elsewhere, spinning through the possibilities, trying to figure out how to untangle herself from whatever mess she had inadvertently been pulled into.

"Hey, Jerica," Harold said softly, a hint of familiarity in his voice. "You okay? You look a little... tense."

"I’m fine," she replied quickly, her tone a little too sharp. She cleared her throat, softening her voice. "Just a lot of paperwork to get through."

He nodded, lingering by the door for a moment longer than she was comfortable with before finally stepping away. Jerica’s eyes followed him as he left, and the unease in her chest tightened.

What was really going on?

Just as Harold stepped out of the Clerk’s office, his steps unhurried and casual, everything shifted in an instant. A strong hand grabbed him by the lapel of his suit, yanking him backward with a force that sent him stumbling. Before he could react, he found himself being dragged down the hallway, out of view, into a shadowy corner where no one would see.

"What the—" Harold tried to struggle, flailing his arms and twisting his body, but the grip was ironclad, inescapable. He couldn’t break free from the brute strength that hauled him like a ragdoll. The hall seemed to blur around him, his heart pounding in his chest as panic set in.

In a swift motion, Harold was shoved hard against the cold wall, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. His vision swam for a moment, but when his eyes refocused, they locked with the seething, murderous gaze of Jared.

Harold’s throat constricted, not just from fear, but from the literal chokehold Jared now had on him.