Jared's face tightened, and he instinctively stepped forward, prepared to walk past him without indulging in any further conversation. He had no intention of engaging with Harold. He was beneath his time—annoying, and frankly, infuriating. But before Jared could brush him off, Harold sidestepped and blocked his path, his grin widening. "Come on now, Jared, are you going to ignore me? Or maybe you'd rather kill me?" Harold's voice dripped with mockery.
Jared scoffed, rolling his eyes as if Harold's very presence was an affront to his dignity. "Spending another minute with you might just do it," he muttered. The thought of entertaining Harold any longer made his skin crawl.
Harold, however, wasn't so easily deterred. With a quick flick of his wrist, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number that made Jared stop dead in his tracks. The name on the screen glowed mockingly: "Poodle Princess."
Jerica.
Jared froze. Why was Harold calling her now?
