Husband With Benefits
Chapter 341: A Rival?

Chapter 341: A Rival?

Ian took a deep breath, reminding himself to dial down the intensity. He needed not to scare away whoever was at the door with a murderous expression. The relentless ringing of the doorbell suggested growing impatience on the visitor’s part, as if he had decided to keep his finger glued to the bell. Frowning, Ian strode towards the door impatiently.

The man, who had just raised his hand to knock, now stood frozen, his gaze fixed on Ian. Ian met the man’s curious stare with an unwavering one of his own. He noted a momentary flicker of surprise on the visitor’s face, as if encountering Ian was not part of the expected scenario. The man’s eyes darted from Ian to the door number, and then back to Ian.

Squinting slightly, the man’s expression shifted, a subtle glare forming as his eyes bore into Ian’s. Without preamble, he questioned, "Is this Isabella’s house?"

Ian arched an eyebrow at the abruptness of the question. There was something about the man’s demeanor that set off alarm bells in Ian’s mind. The thinly veiled hostility in the man’s gaze didn’t escape Ian’s notice, and it was clear that this encounter might not be a casual visit.

"Yes, it is," Ian replied, maintaining a guarded composure. "And you are?"

Ian’s question made the man’s lips tighten into a thin line. Ignoring him now, the man actually dared to step inside, as if he owned the place. With a simple move, Ian blocked his path, positioning himself squarely in the middle of the doorway, effectively preventing the man’s advance.

The man’s face twisted in irritation, his thinly veiled politeness replaced by undisguised rudeness.

"Out of my way," he demanded, his tone carrying a haughty edge.

Ian simply shrugged, his expression impassive at the man’s attempt to intimidate him, " I don’t recall inviting you in. State your business."

The man’s eyes narrowed with a mix of frustration and anger. Ignoring Ian’s question, he made another attempt to bypass him, brushing against Ian’s shoulder in a blatant show of disrespect. Ian’s jaw clenched, but he maintained his composure.

"Isabella Ruffalo! Isi! Isi!!" the man called out, raising his voice as if summoning her would magically grant him access to go inside or that she would apparate here.

Ian’s patience wore thin. "You can’t just barge in. Wait here if you must. Isabella will be back shortly."

The man scoffed, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "I don’t take orders from you. Move aside."

Ian’s gaze remained steady, and with a calm yet assertive tone, he stated, "You’re not getting in without Isabella’s say-so."

Undeterred, the man scowled and tried once again to force his way in, before stepping away with a scowl.

"Fine. I’ll wait here!"

Isabella’s voice cut through the tension, echoing from inside the house, "Who is it?"

The man’s scowl deepened as Isabella appeared behind Ian. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then a subtle frown crept onto her face as she recognized him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone a mix of irritation and dismay.

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes, speaking snidely," What? You didn’t expect to get caught?"

Without giving him a response, Isabella turned to Ian and told him, "Thanks for coming over even though you didn’t have to."

Ian, curious about the connection between the man outside and Isabella, was about to inquire when Isabella subtly shook her head, a signal for him to stay quiet.

The interaction did not miss the man’s notice and he scoffed before he brushed past Ian, hitting his shoulder in passing, and headed straight into the house. Without waiting for an invitation, he made his way towards a room, presumably the one Isabella had just emerged from.

Ian watched as Isabella let the other pass even though she did not seem too happy about it.

"I appreciate your help, Ian, but I’ve got it from here. Thanks again," Isabella said, her words carrying an air of finality.

Before Ian could protest or inquire further, Isabella closed the door with a swift, deliberate motion, leaving him standing alone on the doorstep. The heavy thud of the closing door echoed through the quiet space, leaving Ian bemused and slightly baffled in the sudden silence.

Ian stared at the closed door with and raised an eyebrow. Why did he suddenly feel like he’d been used and thrown out.

He looked down at himself and wondered what he should do next. His suit jacket was inside, along with his keys and phone.

As Ian contemplated his predicament, a sudden realization hit him like a comedic punchline. He was stranded without his essentials. Just as he pondered his next move, the door swung open, and Isabella stood there holding his suit jacket, keys, and phone.

"Here," she said curtly, handing him the items. Her gaze was cool, giving away nothing of the drama that had unfolded inside.

Ian took the belongings, his expression a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Thanks, I guess. Any chance of an explanation?"

Isabella’s eyes narrowed, and she spoke with an air of finality, "This is none of your business. Goodbye, Ian."

Before he could utter a word of thanks or protest, the door closed again, this time more deliberately. Ian blinked, his bemusement growing. "Well, that was...unexpected," he muttered to himself.

Shaking his head, he shrugged and walked away. He’d already offered to help and if she didn’t take it, he couldn’t really force her to accept anything. He’d already done his duty so his guilt was gone.

However, a twinge of an unfamiliar emotion tugged at him, something he couldn’t quite put a label on. His footsteps felt heavier, as if he was unsure of wanting to leave and was not too comfortable about the unspoken tension left at Isabella’s doorstep. With a deep breath and a shake of his head, he decisively returned to his car, locking the feelings he did not understand.

Of course, Ian could not have understood the feeling or recognized it as he’d never been acquainted with jealousy in the past...

This chapter is updat𝙚d by f(r)eew𝒆bn(o)vel.com