Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love-Chapter 118: He was Unraveling

"Why did you come here?" Jared demanded, his voice slicing through the tension in the room like a blade. He took a deliberate step closer, his towering presence exuding an icy fury that could make even the bravest of men falter. His sharp gaze bore into her, his clenched fists a visible testament to the storm brewing inside him. "You should not be here, Jerica!"

Jerica didn’t flinch. She had seen Jared like this before, his emotions raw and unfiltered, but she refused to be cowed. "Not here?" she fired back, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "How can I not be here, Jared? You’re my husband. When you decide to declare war on an entire family—a powerful family, might I add—while putting yourself in danger, it becomes my business. You don’t get to shut me out of this."

Jared’s hands balled tighter at his sides, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he struggled to rein in his emotions. His voice, though slightly softer, still carried the weight of his frustration. "Jerica, you don’t understand—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," Jerica interjected, her voice rising with a mix of anger and desperation. She closed the space between them, jabbing her finger into his chest. "You’re doing this because you’re angry. Because you’re hurt. But you’re not thinking clearly, Jared. And I will not stand by and watch you throw yourself into a fight you might not come back from!"

For a brief moment, Jared faltered. His breath hitched, and his gaze flickered with uncertainty. But it was fleeting, replaced by the simmering anger that had been fueling him. "You think I don’t know what I’m doing?" he shot back, his voice rough and strained. "You think I’m just blindly running into this? They deserve to be exposed, Jerica!"

Jerica’s resolve didn’t waver. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a softer but no less intense tone. "And what about what you deserve?" she asked, her words trembling with emotion. "You deserve to live, Jared. To have a future, to have peace. You can’t burn yourself out trying to bring them down. Not like this."

The weight of her words settled over them like a heavy blanket, the tension in the room almost suffocating. Jared’s chest rose and fell with labored breaths, his jaw working as if searching for a rebuttal. The faint hum of the air conditioner filled the silence, along with the muffled shuffle of footsteps from the hallway.

Jerica’s expression softened. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly as it rested on his arm. She leaned in, her voice now a gentle plea. "Let’s have a second opinion," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "I’ll fight. I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight with you. But we need to do this the right way."

Something in Jared shifted. The frost that had been emanating from him seemed to ebb, his shoulders losing a fraction of their tension. The fiery anger in his eyes dulled, replaced by a weariness that only Jerica seemed able to draw out of him. He stared at her, his gaze searching hers for any sign of deception. But all he found was unwavering determination.

"I’ve fixed an appointment," she added, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. "We have to go now."

Jared’s eyes bore into hers, scrutinizing her words. After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with resignation. He turned to the desk, scooping up the stack of files he had so dramatically placed there earlier. Then, without a word, he took her hand firmly in his and led her out of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Nick, who had been holding his breath, let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief. He slumped against the wall, clutching his knees as if the weight of the entire ordeal had physically exhausted him. "Crisis averted," he muttered, his voice a mix of disbelief and relief.

Nick glanced nervously at the judge, his heart thudding in his chest. "That man is going to give me a heart attack," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "I swear, I’m too young for this level of drama."

Judge Jefferson’s sharp, calculating eyes landed on Nick, freezing him in place. "You should leave now," the judge said, his voice low and dangerous.

Nick wiped the sweat beading on his forehead and lifted his head, ready to offer some sort of excuse. But his gaze caught on the judge’s hands, now scrolling briskly through his phone. A jolt of panic shot through him.

"Are you calling the family?" Nick blurted out, his stomach twisting into knots. His voice cracked slightly as he realized the implications. If Judge Jefferson tipped off the Glovers, Jared wouldn’t just be in trouble—he’d be a target.

The judge’s gaze darkened, his grip on the phone tightening. "You should leave," he repeated, his voice now brimming with cold authority. "Or I’ll call security."

Nick’s mind raced, a thousand reckless ideas flashing through his head. Should he snatch the phone and make a run for it? Plead with the judge to reconsider? Threaten him? None of them seemed like they’d work. If anything, he’d just end up on the wrong end of Jared’s icy wrath again—and possibly the Glovers’, too.

With a deep, resigned breath, Nick left the room, the weight of his failure pressing down on him. As soon as he was in the hallway, he whipped out his phone, his fingers fumbling to compose a message to Jerica.

Nick: We have a problem. Judge Jefferson might inform the Glovers. Handle Jared. I’m out.

Hitting send, he groaned. He couldn’t deal with Jared’s frost-drenched temper again. Jerica was far better at reasoning with that man—or at least surviving the fallout.

Descending the stairs, Nick’s thoughts spiraled. There’s got to be something else I can do... And then it hit him. Harold. If anyone could offer some level of influence or pull, it was him. Maybe he could help.

Nick veered toward Harold’s office, bursting through the door without knocking. Harold looked up from his desk, startled.

"What now?" Harold asked, exasperation evident in his tone.

Nick wasted no time. "It’s Jared," he said, his words tumbling out. "He just tried to throw down with Judge Jefferson. He wanted the judge to investigate the Glovers, but now Jefferson’s likely calling them instead."

Harold’s eyes widened in shock. "He did what?" His voice rose with disbelief, his face flushing red.

Nick nodded frantically. "I tried to stop him! Jerica got him out of there before he went full Siberian Beast, but now the judge might retaliate. And you know the Glovers—if they catch wind of this, Jared’s done for."

Harold slammed a fist onto his desk, standing abruptly. "How could he put Jerica’s life in danger like this?" His voice was tight with fury.

Nick took a cautious step back. "I don’t think he meant to drag her into it, but she’s trying to fix things now. I figured you’d want to know... and maybe help."

Harold paced the room, his hands running through his hair. "This is insane. That fool is going to get himself killed—and Jerica along with him."

Nick bit his lip, unsure whether Harold’s anger was directed at Jared, the Glovers, or him. "So... what do we do?"

Harold stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "First, we find out exactly what Jefferson plans to do. And then we make sure Jerica and Jared don’t take another reckless step."

Nick nodded, though his stomach churned. If Harold couldn’t stop this madness, who could?

Jared’s voice was a storm, echoing all the way down the stairs. "You shouldn’t have come here, Jerica! This is the stupidest thing you’ve done!" His tone was sharp, each word cutting like shards of ice.

Jerica, however, pressed her lips tightly together and didn’t say a word. She let his anger wash over her, steadfast in her silence. He could shout all he wanted—she’d done what she had to do, and she wasn’t going to regret it. At least he was leaving the judge’s office. That was what mattered for now. But she knew they needed to talk, really talk, once his head was clearer.

As they reached the entrance of the building, Jared stopped and scanned the area with sharp, calculating eyes. His movements were deliberate, almost paranoid. He pulled Jerica behind a wide stone pillar, his grip firm on her wrist.

"Wait here until I get the car. Do not move," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jerica watched as he descended the stairs, his head swiveling to check the surroundings like a soldier on patrol. It was then she noticed the faint bulge at his waist—a gun. Her heart sank.

He’s carrying a gun?

Her breath hitched as she realized how far gone Jared was. The man who once scoffed at anyone who thought violence solved anything now moved like he was preparing for war.

Was he this paranoid? She understood there might be danger, but she also knew that if the Glover family wanted to take them out, it wouldn’t be sloppy. Jared’s pistol would do little against the kind of precision they’d bring. And with him in this mental state, was he even fit to carry it?

Jerica rubbed her temples. We have to fix this. He’s unraveling.