Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love-Chapter 128: Harold’s First Choice

"What? Kid-kidnapped?" Noel’s voice cracked with panic, though it quickly shifted back to its usual authoritative tone. "Stay out of it, Harry. Philip Glover’s looking for her, and we don’t need to get involved in their family drama. Especially not when you’re engaged to their family’s daughter."

Harold’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. The engagement. Another scheme, another transaction. "I’m ending the engagement," he said bluntly, cutting off whatever Noel was about to say.

Without waiting for a response, Harold ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket, switching it to silent. Noel would call nonstop, and Harold wasn’t in the mood to listen.

Turning back, Harold was startled to find Nick still standing there, his expression a mix of concern and something darker—curiosity, perhaps, or defiance. Harold avoided meeting his gaze, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a physical force. He clenched his jaw, his steps heavy with a simmering frustration and a flickering hope that, somehow, he could set things right, even if no one else cared to.

But Nick’s voice stopped him cold. "Arthur Sutherland owns a ranch in a town a hundred miles from here."

Harold froze, the words hanging in the air between them like a challenge. Slowly, he turned back, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "How did you—"

Before Harold could finish, Nick held up his phone, the screen displaying a string of text messages. The sender’s name caught Harold’s eye immediately—a name he recognized from the underworld, a notorious money launderer whose activities Harold had stumbled upon as he took care of his family’s businesses. But what struck him was the ease and familiarity of the conversation. Nick’s tone with the man wasn’t just casual; it was commanding.

Harold narrowed his eyes, his voice low and measured. "I told you not to get involved more than you already are."

Nick shrugged, his lips curving into a wry smile. "Too late for that, don’t you think? Besides, you’re not the only one who’s curious." 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Harold let out a deep breath, his frustration mounting. This wasn’t the time to dive into whatever web Nick was weaving. The Glovers, the Sutherlands—these were names with the kind of power that could crush a person without even noticing. He didn’t want Nick anywhere near this mess, but something in Nick’s expression told Harold that he wouldn’t back down easily.

Nick sighed, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. The more he dipped his toes into this swirling chaos, the more he wanted to dive in headfirst. The danger was intoxicating—a pulse-quickening rush that he craved despite the risks. But then, a quiet voice in the back of his mind pulled him back.

"I’m an only child..." he muttered under his breath, almost as if reminding himself.

Harold’s eyes softened for a moment, catching the hesitation in Nick’s voice. But he didn’t have the luxury of indulging Nick’s internal conflict. Letting out a long breath, Harold walked to his car, sliding behind the wheel with purpose. He set the navigator to the location of the ranch, his mind racing with possibilities.

Let’s see for sure.

As the car sped down the highway, Harold’s phone buzzed. It was the investigator he had hired to track Catherine.

"She’s heading toward the horse ranch in Bellmore," the man reported, his voice brisk.

Harold’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Catherine? What did she know? How did she know Arthur Sutherland and his men? How was she sure Arthur would be in the ranch?

But then, a few minutes later, the investigator called again with an update. "Scratch that—she’s changed course. Now heading toward the city."

Harold’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as a storm of thoughts surged through his mind. Each turn of the road seemed to mirror the spiraling conflict within him. Should he follow Catherine? There was no denying the way she moved and spoke hinted at secrets she was desperate to keep hidden. The mystery around her was a nagging itch he couldn’t ignore. Or should he stay the course and head to the ranch?

Arthur Sutherland wouldn’t wait indefinitely, and the ranch might hold the answers he needed about Jerica. Jerica. The thought of her sent a pang through his chest, an uncomfortable mix of worry, guilt, and something he wasn’t ready to name. She was his ex, and she was married now, yet he couldn’t shake the weight of responsibility he felt for her.

Was it truly concern for Jerica’s safety that was driving him? Or was there something more tangled in the depths of his feelings? Harold shook his head, as if trying to physically dislodge the thoughts. Then there was Jared, Jerica’s husband, and his illegitimate cousin.

Harold frowned, the memory of their camping trip creeping into his mind. He’d gone into that trip despising Jared, but somewhere along the way, something had shifted. Maybe it was blood that made him soften toward Jared—an instinctive pull of kinship, no matter how strained. Or maybe it was the small, genuine moments they’d shared on that trip. He didn’t hate Jared anymore; in fact, he’d come to respect him in a way he hadn’t expected.

And yet, his family had shown no such respect. How could they so easily cast Jared aside? The thought made Harold’s stomach twist. Jared might have been born outside the bounds of convention, but he was still a Braddock. Wasn’t that supposed to mean something? How could Jared’s own father abandon him, leaving him to be a pawn in the Glovers’ machinations? It felt wrong, a betrayal not just of Jared, but of the very idea of family.

Harold’s chest burned with anger—not just at his father but at the hypocrisy of it all. His uncle, the man Harold had once idolized, seemed willing to sacrifice Jared’s well-being for the sake of political expediency. Was power and prestige worth so much that it could justify such cruelty? The uncle Harold had admired would never have allowed this. Or maybe Harold had been blind to his uncle’s flaws all along.

The car hummed beneath him as he approached the exit to the ranch. Harold’s fingers hovered over the turn signal when his phone buzzed. A message lit up the screen, freezing his breath in his throat.

[Emergency! Come to me right now!]

The sender: Lila.

Harold’s heart lurched painfully, the world around him narrowing to the weight of those words. Lila. Panic flooded his veins as he made an instinctive, almost violent turn of the wheel, his tires screeching in protest. The ranch would have to wait. Catherine could keep her secrets for now. Arthur Sutherland, Jerica, even Jared—all of it faded to the background.

Lila came first. Always.