Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love-Chapter 117: Running To Him

Back at Judge Jefferson’s office, Nick clutched his phone like a lifeline, staring at the closed door with the expression of someone about to enter the lion’s den armed with nothing but a pocket comb. His legs screamed at him to flee. The sensible part of his brain was in full agreement.

But Nick wasn’t a coward. He’d survived years as Jared’s paralegal—though barely—and he wasn’t about to abandon him now.

Steeling himself, Nick slipped back into the room. Jared’s glare snapped toward him like a predator spotting prey. "Where did you go? Scared?" Jared’s voice was low, his tone laced with frost.

Nick froze. Jared looked like the Grim Reaper, except his scythe was made of pure ice, and his hollow gaze was devoid of the fiery determination Nick usually admired. Something was definitely off.

Thinking quickly, Nick raised his pinky in a sheepish gesture, silently implying, I went to the bathroom.

Jared scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been amusement—or contempt. Either way, he turned back to the judge, who looked like he might bolt at any moment.

Nick swallowed hard and waited, knowing the cavalry—Jerica—was on her way. The judge was stammering out another round of excuses, trying and failing to reason with Jared.

Nick glanced at his watch, then at the door. "Come on, Jerica," he muttered under his breath.

Jared shot him a sideways glance. "What was that?"

"Uh, nothing! Just clearing my throat!" Nick replied, his voice an octave too high.

Jared’s eyes narrowed, but he let it slide, returning his icy glare to the judge. Nick shifted uncomfortably. Jerica, please hurry up before I end up as collateral damage.

Nick stood in the corner of Judge Jefferson’s office, clutching his phone as though it were a lifeline. His fingers trembled slightly, and a cold sweat dotted his brow.

Across the room, Jared towered over the judge’s desk, his frame tense and brimming with barely contained fury. He slammed a stack of thick files onto the table with a resounding bang that echoed like a gunshot in the small space.

"I’ve gathered extensive information on the Glover family," Jared said, his voice low and razor-sharp, each word laced with venom. "I want you to order an investigation into them. Now."

Nick’s stomach dropped. He felt his blood run ice-cold, as if Jared’s frosty aura had seeped into his veins. This was a nightmare scenario, the very thing Nick had been dreading. His brain screamed, This is stupid! No, it’s beyond stupid—it’s suicidal!

Judge Jefferson wasn’t just a passive player; he was practically an honorary member of the Glover family’s inner circle. Approaching him with this was akin to walking into a dragon’s lair and demanding it stop breathing fire.

Nick’s knees wobbled slightly as he glanced at Jared. His friend was unrecognizable—his usual calculated resolve replaced by an arctic fury that seemed to chill the air. The Siberian Beast was in full effect, and Nick could practically see the frost radiating off Jared like a deadly aura.

Jared didn’t just look angry—he looked like a monster carved from ice, and his every movement was a threat to shatter the fragile balance of the room.

Even Judge Jefferson, who was no stranger to dealing with the worst humanity had to offer, looked rattled. His usually composed demeanor faltered as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the pen in his hand.

"Mr. Petrovski," he began, his tone as placating as it was cautious. "I understand your concerns, but these are serious allegations. Perhaps you should take some time to reconsider your approach. These matters require delicate handling."

Jared’s icy glare hardened, his lips curling into a humorless smile. "Reconsider?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Delicate handling? Judge, what’s delicate is how you’ve managed to avoid scrutiny while propping up a corrupt family. Do you think I don’t know? I’m not here to reconsider. I’m here for action."

Nick swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. The room felt suffocating despite the chill emanating from Jared. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. The judge was trying to deflect, to wriggle his way out, but Jared was relentless. The frost wall surrounding him was impenetrable, and Nick could feel the weight of it pressing on everyone in the room.

The tension was so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife, but Nick didn’t have the courage to step in. His job was simple: stall. Keep Jared from doing something truly irreversible until reinforcements arrived.

But the clock was ticking, and Nick wasn’t sure how much longer the judge could hold his composure—or how much longer he could hold his own nerves together.

Jerica, please, he thought desperately. Hurry.

Jerica tossed her essentials into her purse with the urgency of someone trying to diffuse a bomb and flagged down a cab. Her heart hammered in her chest as guilt and fear tangled together in her mind.

It’s my fault, she thought, biting her lip. Why did I have to say that last night? Asking him to marry someone else? The memory of her own words twisted painfully in her stomach. I should’ve saved that for my deathbed.

Her hand clenched tightly around the strap of her purse as if holding on for dear life. The idea of Jared being in danger was unbearable, but the thought of her leaving this world with him lost in bitterness and anger? That was even worse. She shook her head, as if trying to physically dislodge the spiraling thoughts.

When the cab screeched to a halt in front of the courthouse, Jerica didn’t waste a second. She flung the door open, dashed up the steps, and ignored the sound of the driver yelling, "Hey, lady, your change!" She was already halfway to the entrance, too consumed by the storm in her chest to care.

Who cared about a few coins when Jared was charging headlong into what could only be described as a self-destructive mission?

As she sprinted up the stairs, her breath came in short bursts, and her legs burned. Please let me get to him in time. The sound of heels clicking against the marble echoed through the hall. That was when she heard a cheerful, familiar voice call out, breaking her tunnel vision.

"I thought you were on leave today!"

It was Lila Anderson, grinning like she was ready to gossip.

"Later!" Jerica managed to shout without stopping. She pushed her legs harder, running past her coworker.

She was nearly at the second floor when her path was blocked. Her frustration boiled over as she glared at the obstacle in front of her—Harold. Why now?!

"Move!" she barked, raising her eyebrows as if to silently scream, What do you want?

Harold looked sheepish, scratching the back of his head like a nervous schoolboy. "Did you see her?" he asked, his tone rushed and uneasy.

"Who?" Jerica snapped, tapping her foot as if that would magically make him vanish.

"Catherine. My... uh... stalker," Harold mumbled, his eyes darting around.

Jerica’s patience was hanging by a thread. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Harold, I don’t have time for this. If you’re looking for Lila, she’s downstairs."

"No! Not Lila! Catherine!" Harold insisted, his voice rising slightly. "Do you think we know her? Like... I don’t know... maybe we met her before?" He was clearly in his own world, but Jerica was not about to indulge him.

That was the last straw. Jerica gave him an unimpressed look, muttering under her breath, "Why do I care about your stalker? My husband’s about to do something ridiculously stupid." She shoved past him, climbing the stairs with renewed determination.

Harold stood frozen, rubbing his chest where she had pushed him, his face twisted in confusion. "Where have I seen her before?" he muttered to himself, staring after Jerica like a man trying to solve a riddle.

Jerica burst into Judge Jefferson’s office without hesitation, the door slamming against the wall. She scanned the room quickly. Jared stood at the center, a storm of fury emanating from his rigid posture, but her attention was momentarily drawn to a loud, audible sigh. She turned toward the sound to find Nick slumped in the corner, relief washing over his face the moment he saw her.

"Thank God," Nick whispered under his breath, clutching his chest like a man narrowly saved from disaster.

Jared’s eyes widened in disbelief the moment he saw Jerica. His face darkened, and the veins on his forehead seemed to bulge with the effort of containing his anger. "What are you doing here?" he barked, his voice echoing off the walls. Then, as if connecting invisible dots, his fiery gaze shifted to Nick.

Nick froze like a deer caught in headlights, his palms raised in surrender. "I didn’t— I mean—" he stammered, his voice cracking. Before Jared could utter another word, Nick made a break for the door, slipping out like a man fleeing the gates of hell.

Jerica raised an eyebrow as the door clicked shut behind him. She could hear his hurried footsteps echoing down the hall, followed by a muffled, "Where’s the bathroom?!"

But there was no time to linger on Nick’s cowardice. She turned her attention back to Jared, who stood rigid, his chest heaving with barely contained rage.