Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love-Chapter 125: Odd Behavior

Jerica’s question barely had time to linger in the air before another man, dressed in the same sharp suit as the others, stepped forward. His hand was firm but not rough as he pressed her back into her seat, silently demanding compliance.

Jerica’s hands gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white as she glared up at him. "Don’t touch me," she snapped, her voice like a whip.

Arthur raised a hand lazily, and the suited man stepped back without a word. Jerica straightened, her breathing ragged as she turned her attention back to Arthur. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"Answer me," she demanded, her tone sharper now. "Where are they taking him?"

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. He studied her for a moment, almost as if weighing his next words. Finally, he spoke, his voice smooth and calm, but with an edge that made Jerica’s stomach twist.

"He’ll be fine," Arthur said, his tone almost dismissive. "I simply need to have a private conversation with you."

Jerica’s eyes widened further, her pulse quickening. "What kind of conversation requires dragging my husband out of the room?"

Arthur didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her shiver. "The kind that ensures honesty," he replied, his lips curling into a faint, enigmatic smile.

Jerica’s mind raced. She didn’t trust him—not for a second. And the sight of Jared being forced out of the room against his will only fueled her anger. Her heart clenched as she remembered the injuries he’d already endured.

"Let him go," she said, her voice firm despite the quiver in her hands.

Arthur’s smile didn’t waver. "In time," he said smoothly. "First, I’d like to hear what you have to say."

Jerica’s jaw tightened. Her instincts screamed at her to push harder, to demand Jared’s release, but something about Arthur’s demeanor told her it would only make things worse. For now, she would have to tread carefully.

Jerica’s hands trembled as she tightened her fists in defiance. Her chest felt like it would explode with the weight of fear and anger swirling inside her. Yet, despite the storm raging in her heart, her voice held steady, sharpened by sheer determination.

"If you think Jared’s enough to bring down the Glover family," she began, her tone dripping with challenge, "wait until you know what I have in my pockets... or have I already handed it over to the media?"

Arthur, who had been idly looking to the side with his hand poised mid-air, paused mid-motion. The room seemed to still, the tension crackling like static electricity. His head turned slowly, his calculating gaze landing on her.

"I’d advise you to—"

"Do you know about the security breach in their server?" Jerica interrupted, her words tumbling out with the precision of a well-rehearsed threat. "The Glover family sure has a lot of skeletons in their closet. They should’ve found out about it by now. If I’m right, they’re probably scrambling to track me down. Have they found me already? Is that what this is about?"

Her words struck like arrows, each one sharp and purposeful, though the confidence in her voice barely concealed her internal turmoil. She had to keep talking, keep him distracted—anything to buy time for Jared or for herself to find a way out of this mess.

Arthur tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His silence was maddening, and his expression revealed nothing.

Jerica pressed on, her desperation rising. "I thought this was about Jared, but the timing doesn’t add up. This is about me, isn’t it?"

Arthur remained unmoved, his focus briefly shifting to the suited man standing nearby. Jerica followed his gaze and watched as the man gave a subtle nod, as if confirming something silently.

Her heart sank deeper into her stomach, but she refused to let him see her falter. "I have no idea what your creepy wife’s obsession with me is, dude," she shot out, trying to keep her tone light despite her growing dread, "but I’d ask you to—"

"I’d advise you to stop talking, dear," Arthur interjected, his voice soft but laced with warning. "For your safety and your husband’s."

Jerica’s lips curled into a scornful sneer. "Don’t ’dear’ me," she retorted, the word dripping with venom. Something about the way he said it made her skin crawl, though it was unsettlingly familiar. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that felt both alien and achingly familiar, like a fragmented memory she couldn’t piece together.

To her shock, Arthur chuckled—a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. Her jaw dropped. Was he seriously laughing at her?

"You think I’m bluffing?" she demanded, her anger boiling over. "You think I can’t bring down the Glover family? I advise you to let us go if you want to avoid—"

Her words faltered as she caught sight of a nurse entering the room, a syringe gleaming ominously in her gloved hand. The sight made her blood run cold.

"What’s that?" she asked, her voice quaking. Her gaze darted between the nurse and Arthur, panic creeping into her tone. "Jared!" she shouted, the name bursting from her lips like a plea.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his hand lifting to cover his face briefly, as though he was weary of the entire ordeal.

"Jared..." Jerica’s voice trembled as her body began to shake. The nurse approached her methodically, as if her terror was invisible.

Her mind raced with questions, each more frantic than the last. Why did they need her blood? What were they planning? She tried to yank her arm away, but the suited man beside her gripped her shoulder with an iron hand, rooting her in place.

"Why do you need my blood?" she cried, panic bubbling to the surface as the needle drew closer.

Arthur’s gaze remained on the floor, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, speaking without looking at her. "This is for your own good."

"For my good?" Jerica echoed, her voice cracking. "What the hell does that even mean? You’re insane!"