Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 26: Clash of Two Men

Chapter 26: Clash of Two Men

Jared’s forearm pressed harder against Harold’s throat, the pressure just enough to choke off the air, making Harold’s pulse hammer wildly beneath the crushing weight. Their faces were inches apart, Harold’s senses overwhelmed by the heat of Jared’s breath, the intensity in his eyes.

Those eyes—bloodshot and blazing with fury—were nothing like the cold, calculating lawyer Harold had known. This was something different. Something primal. Jared’s usually controlled demeanor had been torn away, replaced with a ferocity that was almost terrifying. His brow twitched, his entire body taut, as if barely holding himself back from violence.

"Stay away from my wife, Braddock," Jared hissed, his voice tight and dangerous, the words slipping through his clenched teeth like venom.

For a fleeting second, Harold’s eyes flickered with fear, the primal instinct to run kicking in. But Harold wasn’t one to crumble under pressure. He was known as "The Serpent Prince" for a reason, always slithering his way out of tough situations. Fear was just another emotion to manipulate, not surrender to. Gritting his teeth, he forced a smug smile despite the growing lack of oxygen.

"What are you talking about?" Harold managed to croak out, using his entire upper body to try and shove Jared away. But Jared didn’t budge. Not an inch.

Jared remained locked in place, his eyes glinting with the lethal focus of a predator that had already sunk its teeth into its prey. "I know you’re bothering Jerica because she’s my wife," he growled, his forearm pressing deeper against Harold’s throat.

Harold’s face flushed red, the pressure on his windpipe cutting off the air completely. But even as he gasped for breath, a chuckle escaped his lips—dry, wheezing, but still mocking.

Jared’s brow furrowed at the sound. His voice was sharper now, more dangerous. "I won’t let you hurt her," he said, but there was an undertone there—a crack in the armor that Harold picked up on.

Harold coughed, still smiling even as his air supply dwindled. "Is that why you’re keeping her so unhappy?" he rasped, his voice hoarse. "Is this some power thing for you, Jared? Domination? Are you proud thinking only you can trap her in a marriage she doesn’t want to stay in?"

Those words hit Jared like a punch to the gut. His grip loosened for a fraction of a second, the emotional blow landing where physical attacks hadn’t. Harold slipped out of Jared’s grasp, inhaling sharply as the pressure lifted from his throat. Straightening his suit, he scoffed, the victory of escaping Jared’s hold written on his face.

But before Harold could make his getaway, Jared moved with sudden, violent speed. In a blink, he had slammed Harold back into the wall, harder this time, his face inches away from Harold’s again. Jared’s eyes, which had softened for a moment, reignited with fury.

"If she wants to leave," Jared growled, his voice low and deadly, "why did you feel the need to send that picture to me?"

Harold’s blood drained from his face, his smug facade momentarily shattered. He tried to summon a look of innocence, his breath still uneven. "What picture? What are you talking about?" he stammered, his attempt at innocence falling flat in the face of Jared’s accusatory stare.

Jared scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Don’t play dumb with me, Harold. A dashcam image? Really? You thought I wouldn’t figure it out?" He sneered, his lips curling into a smirk that was colder than ice. "Are you supposed to be the great hope of the Braddock family? Guess that title’s overestimated."

Harold’s face burned, a flush of embarrassment mixing with his anger. He hadn’t expected Jared to catch on so quickly. The dashcam image had been meant to provoke, to push Jared over the edge, but clearly, Harold had underestimated how sharp Jared’s mind was—even in his anger. Without going to Jerica and showing her his anger like any other possessive man would, Jared maintained a level head and came to him.

The plan had been to rile Jared up, and get him emotional, so Harold could exploit the cracks in his marriage. But now, standing face to face with this furious man, Harold realized he might have miscalculated.

Harold coughed again, his voice still rough as he tried to recover. "I didn’t—Jared, I didn’t do anything. You’re imagining things."

"Shut up," Jared’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried a weight that froze Harold in place. "I’m not asking you, Harold. I’m telling you. Stay away from her."

Jared’s body loomed over Harold’s, his presence like a storm cloud about to burst. Harold could feel the danger radiating off him, the restrained violence just beneath the surface. For a brief moment, Harold thought Jared might hit him, that this would end in blood. But then, just as quickly as it had started, Jared stepped back, his eyes never leaving Harold’s face.

Without another word, Jared turned and walked away, his footsteps deliberate and heavy, the echo of them fading as he disappeared down the hallway.

Harold remained pressed against the wall, gasping for breath, his pulse racing, heart pounding. He wiped the sweat from his brow, still trying to process what had just happened. His chest heaved with the weight of it all, his mind racing. He had expected Jared to lash out, but not like this.

As Harold regained his composure, a slow, smug grin curled onto his lips. Jared wasn’t playing games anymore, that much was clear. But neither was he.

This was far from over.

Jared exhaled slowly, Harold’s words still echoing in his mind. The truth was hard to swallow—Jerica was unhappy in their marriage, and he had no one to blame but himself. But Harold’s insinuation, the idea that Jerica had already decided to leave, that cut deeper than Jared wanted to admit.

If she had truly wanted to end things, she wouldn’t still be living in their home. Jerica wasn’t one to stay out of loyalty or pity. If she wanted out, she would have made sure there was no turning back—either by disappearing from his life completely or destroying him in the process.

He let out another deep breath, feeling the weight of his failures settle heavier on his shoulders. He needed to fix this. To close the distance between them before it was too late.

Lost in thought, Jared hadn’t realized where his feet had carried him until he looked up and found himself standing in front of the Clerk’s office. His pulse quickened at the sight of her empty desk. The thought of her made his chest ache, and before he could stop himself, he took a step inside, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of her.

And then, as if fate had heard his unspoken need, the door to the office opened. Jerica stepped out, her face a perfect mirror of the surprise and confusion he felt.

For a heartbeat, they just stood there, staring at one another—her eyes wide, lips parted as if she couldn’t quite believe he was standing in front of her. Jared’s chest tightened. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he needed to explain, but the words clung stubbornly to the back of his throat.

And then, a voice interrupted the fragile moment.

"Jared, love..."

The sweet, sultry voice cut through the air like a knife. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Natasha.

Jared’s entire body stiffened as he slowly turned to face her. She sashayed toward him, her every movement deliberate and sensual, the black dress clinging to her curves in a way that was impossible to ignore. The provocative neckline left little to the imagination, her ample cleavage drawing eyes without effort.

But Jared’s focus wasn’t on Natasha. The instant she appeared, his gaze instinctively darted back to Jerica.