Page 14 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

EVA

T he office was quiet save for the hum of electronics and the occasional groan of the ancient HVAC system. Everyone had left hours ago, and the only light was that of my desk lamp. Sighing, I pushed back from my desk and rubbed my temples. The clock on my desk told me it was nearly eleven.

“Way too late,” I muttered, grabbing my coat and purse. Yawning, I flicked off the light and let the darkness settle over the room.

It was colder outside than I’d expected. I pulled my coat tighter around me, but it didn’t do much to ward off the chill. The sidewalks were practically empty, with just a few late-night wanderers and the occasional couple stumbling out of bars.

Raffaele’s voice echoed in my mind: You don’t walk home after dark, Eva. Not in this city. Not alone.

Shoving my hands deep into my pockets, I rolled my eyes. “Paranoid much?” I whispered to no one. Sure, New York City could be sketchy after dark, but I wasn’t a na?ve rookie who couldn’t take care of herself. I’d been walking home alone at night since I was barely a teenager.

Still, the shadows seemed longer tonight. The quiet was a little too quiet. My footsteps echoed sharply against the concrete, the sound amplified in the stillness.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled.

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder, scanning the street behind me. Empty. A few cars passed, their headlights painting long streaks of light that faded as quickly as they came.

“Get a grip, Eva,” I muttered, trying to shake off the unease.

But it didn’t go away.

As I walked, the feeling grew stronger. I quickened my pace and glanced back again. This time, a shadow shifted.

There was someone there.

My stomach flipped, and I froze. Was it a trick of the light? A phantom born from my exhaustion?

The figure moved.

It was real.

My heart hammered. I yanked out my phone, my thumb hovering over the call button. 911. The thought flared bright and fast in my mind, but something about the figure made me hesitate. They weren’t stumbling like a drunk or approaching like a lost tourist. Their movements were deliberate, predatory.

I took a step back, then another, before I turned and bolted.

The sound of footsteps followed, matching my pace.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

A surge of adrenaline propelled me forward. I ducked around a corner, my legs burning, my breath coming in ragged bursts. I pressed myself against the wall, fumbling with my phone.

“Come on, come on,” I hissed, scrolling to Jareth’s name.

He picked up after the first ring. “Eva?”

“I need you,” I gasped. “Someone’s following me?—”

I barely got the words out before a sharp pop cracked the air, and Jareth materialized in front of me, his expression wild and frantic.

“What happened?” he demanded.

I was doubled over, trying to catch my breath. “Someone… was following me. I ran… I lost them, but…”

Jareth scanned the area, his stance rigid. His eyes blazed with something between anger and worry. “You shouldn’t be out here alone this late.”

I scowled at him. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder. Where the hell were you? Aren’t you supposed to materialize when I’m in danger?”

The muscles in his jaw ticked. “I didn’t think you’d be out on the streets this late. You didn’t tell me.”

“Tell you?” I hissed. “What am I, a prisoner? You’ve been a pain in my ass since this whole thing started, and the one time I actually need you, you’re nowhere to be found!”

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly restraining himself. “I assumed you were participating in some extracurriculars.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t text me to say you were about to walk home,” he continued, ignoring my outrage. “When your heart rate spiked, I thought you might have been…otherwise engaged. In the romantic sense.”

I opened my mouth to retort, not sure whether to be mortified or offended, but he stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the bracelet on my wrist. He took my hand and rolled the bracelet over, his fingers brushing my skin.

“There’s a hidden button here,” he said, pointing to a barely visible indentation. “Press and hold it for three seconds, and I’ll know you’re in imminent danger.”

I yanked my hand back. “And you’re just now telling me this?”

Grimacing, he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think you’d actually need it. That’s on me,” he admitted, his tone uncharacteristically sincere. “But it won’t happen again.”

The fire in my chest fizzled slightly at his earnestness. I took a deep breath, my hands still trembling. “It’s fine. Just… don’t forget next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

The tension stretched between us, an unspoken battle of wills simmering in the air. Jareth tilted his head slightly, his eyes darting toward the shadows of the city street below. He held up a hand, silently commanding me to stop fidgeting.

“Eva,” he murmured. “Be quiet.”

I opened my mouth to retort but stopped short. His eyes were alert, and every inch of him radiated focus. He cocked his head, his body rigid, and for a moment, I forgot to be annoyed.

“What are you?—”

“Shh.” He held up a finger, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the darkness.

A minute passed, maybe two, then he relaxed. “They’re gone,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just been ready to pounce.

“How do you know?” I asked, skepticism laced in my voice.

He smirked. “Perks of being a shifter. Enhanced hearing, a sixth sense for danger—all that fun stuff. I know you hate animals, but you might want to start appreciating the benefits.”

I bristled at the comment but let it slide. “So, what? You scared them off?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “Or maybe they weren’t following you at all, and you freaked yourself out because you were walking alone at this hour. You do know better, don’t you?”

I glared at him as I pulled my coat tighter around me. “I don’t need a lecture, Jareth.”

“No, what you need is to stop being so stubborn and actually listen when people try to keep you alive.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to snap at him. He turned on his heel and started walking, clearly expecting me to follow.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Walking you home. If someone’s really after you, they’re not going to stop just because I scared them off momentarily. Let’s go.”

We walked in tense silence. Jareth was constantly glancing over his shoulder, his body language screaming hypervigilance. Meanwhile, I focused on keeping my expression neutral, though my insides were still knotted with unease.

When we arrived, Jareth immediately went into security mode, sweeping through my apartment like a soldier clearing a battlefield. Every closet, every corner, every window.

“Anything else you want to invade while you’re at it?” I asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

He ignored me.

When he finally declared the space secure, he said, “You’re good for now. But you need better habits, Eva. Walking alone at night in this city? You might as well wear a neon sign saying, ‘Easy target.’”

I hated that he was right. I hated that he was here. Most of all, I hated that I felt safer with him around.

“Thanks,” I muttered begrudgingly. “You can go now.”

“Yeah, no.” He dropped onto the couch and stretched out. “I’m staying.”

My head snapped toward him. “The hell you are.”

He raised a brow, utterly unfazed. “You don’t get a vote. I’ve been lax. If The Shadow knew about this incident, he’d have my head on a pike.”

I glared. He smirked. The standoff lasted all of five seconds. I strode to the hall closet and grabbed a blanket. “Fine. Here,” I said, tossing him the blanket.

I turned on my heel, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another response. A small smile tugged at my lips despite myself, but I wiped it away before he could see.

A decorative pillow smacked me in the back of the head. I turned around with my mouth hanging open, hardly able to believe that he’d just hit me with my own pillow. Jareth cackled and opened his mouth, but before he could respond, a cracking sound outside the door made us both freeze.

Jareth turned sharply, already in hyper-alert mode again. He stepped in front of me, his arms spread wide like a shield.

“Run to the bedroom,” he whispered. “Lock the door. Don’t come out until I say it’s safe.”

For once, I didn’t argue. I bolted to my bedroom and locked the door behind me. Heart pounding, I pressed my ear to the wood, trying to hear what was happening. This was far too much emotional whiplash for one night.

I heard the front door creak open. There was a pause, followed by laughter.

Laughter?

I cracked the door open and peeked out. Jareth was standing in the entryway, shaking his head as Raffaele and Vivian strolled in.

“False alarm,” Jareth called out. “Not a baddie, just your brother and his wife making out in the hallway. Crisis averted.”

I stepped out, shaking my head at Raffaele. “Seriously? Don’t you two have an apartment for that?”

“We were checking on you,” Raffaele said. “Clearly, you’re in capable hands, so we’ll leave you be.”

“You can stay. On the couch,” I said, once they’d left.

He gestured to the apartment. “You have more than one bedroom, Eva.”

“You can hear better from the couch,” I shot back. “It’s more centralized.”

As I walked to my bedroom, I tossed one last jab over my shoulder. “Besides, I don’t want cat hair on my Egyptian cotton sheets.”

His growl had me laughing all the way to bed.

Like usual, I woke up before the sun. My internal clock didn’t care that I hadn’t slept enough or that last night had been one for the books. Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. Taking a hot shower was tempting, but coffee was my first priority.

I opened my bedroom door and stopped in my tracks.

Jareth was sprawled across my couch in all his irritating, half-naked glory. The couch was big, but so was he—broad shoulders, lean, muscular frame, one long leg dangling off the edge. The blanket was tangled around his hips, his black boxers peeking out the top.

He looked peaceful, almost... innocent. A lie, of course.

Even in sleep, his stupidly perfect features radiated arrogance.

His dark hair was a tousled mess, and that scruffy stubble on his jaw was enough to make me grit my teeth.

My gaze dipped lower, catching on his abs—perfectly defined, because of course they were.

This asshole looked like he could grace the cover of a fitness magazine.

I shook my head sharply. What the hell was I doing? He was Raffy’s insufferable assassin. I was just a job to him, and I didn’t want it to be anything more than that. In fact, I wanted to return him to sender, but alas.

I moved into the kitchen and started grinding coffee beans. I made no effort to keep it down. Within minutes, I heard the shuffle of feet behind me.

“What’s for breakfast, boss?” Jareth asked.

I turned to find him leaning against the counter, the blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape.

“Coffee. Then kickboxing. Then maybe a protein bar if I feel generous.”

He groaned dramatically and slumped into a chair like a child being denied candy. “A protein bar? That’s not breakfast. That’s an insult.”

I poured myself a mug of black coffee. “I’m changing into my workout gear. You’re free to leave the way you came in.”

“Not a chance,” he said, far too smugly for my liking. “You’re my assignment, remember? If you’re planning to punch things, I need to see what you’re capable of. In case you need to defend yourself again.”

I stopped in the doorway. “You think I can’t defend myself?”

His grin widened. “Like you did last night? Running down the street like you were auditioning for Panicked Civilian #1 ? Yeah, you really scared that shadowy figure.”

Heat rushed to my face. “You’re welcome to join me. I’ll happily show you what I’m made of.”

I headed to my bedroom, yanking open drawers with more force than necessary.

If Jareth wanted to act like a smug asshole, fine.

I’d wipe that stupid grin off his face soon enough.

I pulled out a pair of workout shorts and a sports bra, tossing them onto the bed before grabbing my deodorant.

At least I’d smell good while kicking Jareth’s ass.

As I pulled my hair into a messy bun, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My jaw was set, my eyes determined. Jareth didn’t know what he was in for.

When I walked into the kickboxing room, I immediately regretted every decision that had led me to this moment.

Jareth was still shirtless. God clearly had a twisted sense of humor. At least he’d put on his jeans. Small mercies. He’d already strapped on a set of gloves and had his arms crossed over his chest.

“Nice outfit.” His gaze swept over me just long enough to make my blood boil. “Ready to lose?”

I tightened the Velcro on my gloves. “How do you plan on working out in those jeans? They’ll slow you down.”

The smug smile never left his face as he stepped into the center of the room. “When you’re as talented as I am, Delgado, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. Or not wearing.” He flexed slightly, gesturing to his bare chest. “I’m deadly, regardless of my attire.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my brain. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are.”