Page 24 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

EVA

T he soft sound of waves was the first thing I registered, their rhythmic pulse lulling my heart into a steadier beat.

My eyes opened to an unfamiliar room bathed in early morning light.

The faint scent of the ocean lingered in the air, mingling with something that smelled like pancakes.

It took me a moment to remember where I was.

Jareth’s cottage.

I sat up slowly and smoothed down my hair. The bed had been so comfortable I’d fallen asleep instantly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I hadn’t woken in the middle of the night, haunted by my ever-growing to-do list or anxieties.

As I walked into the living room, I caught sight of Jareth sitting out on the deck with a cup of coffee in hand. With the sunlight dancing off his dark hair, he looked... peaceful. Not a word I’d usually associate with him.

My stomach grumbled. I turned away from the glass doors and nearly jumped out of my skin when Grelth appeared, holding a steaming mug in one hand and a neatly folded bundle in the other.

“Good morning, Miss Eva,” he said as he handed me my dress. It was clean, pressed, and smelled faintly of lavender. “Your attire from yesterday. I trust you slept well?”

“Like a rock,” I admitted, offering a small smile. “Thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”

He inclined his head, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Would you like some breakfast? And how do you take your coffee?”

I hesitated. “I’d love some, but only if it’s not an imposition.”

Grelth glanced toward Jareth, who was still outside, staring at the waves. “ He is an imposition. You, Miss Eva, are not.”

A surprised laugh escaped me. I was growing fond of this little creature. “Typically, I take my coffee with oat milk and stevia, but I’ll just have it black.”

“Nonsense,” Grelth said. “I have oat milk and stevia, and you’ll take your coffee how you prefer.”

Moments later, he handed me a perfectly prepared cup of coffee. It was rich, smooth, and just the right amount of sweet. “Thank you, Grelth. This is perfect.”

He nodded curtly. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Go enjoy the view while you wait.”

I stepped onto the deck, pausing to take in the full expanse of the ocean in daylight. The horizon stretched endlessly, the waves glittering under the sun. It was breathtaking.

Jareth didn’t glance my way as I approached, his focus locked on the ocean. His profile was relaxed but unreadable.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, breaking the silence but still not looking at me.

I took a seat across from him at the small table. “Better than I have in a long time.”

He hummed in response, and I couldn’t help but notice the distance in his demeanor. Normally, he’d have made some smartass comment by now, but he was more reserved today.

Before I could dwell on it, Grelth arrived with a tray. The plates were piled high with pancakes, sausage, eggs.

“This looks amazing,” I said, genuinely impressed.

Grelth bowed slightly. “Enjoy, miss.”

“Wait,” I called after him as he turned to leave. “Aren’t you going to join us?”

He stopped and gave me a flat look. “No, miss. The ocean makes me nauseous.”

I glanced at Jareth, who shrugged as if this was completely normal.

The breakfast was every bit as good as it looked, and for a while, we ate in silence. I tried to focus on the moment, on the rare peace of sitting by the ocean with no pressing demands, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d done something to upset Jareth.

After breakfast, I thanked Grelth again and went to change. When I emerged, Jareth was waiting by the car.

Jareth didn’t say much on the drive, and though part of me wanted to ask what was bothering him, I held back. When we reached the tear in the Veil, he got out and opened the passenger door for me. The gesture caught me off guard, but I murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” before stepping out.

“Safe travels,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“Jareth... thanks for letting me stay last night. And for everything.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he just nodded. “Any time, Delgado.”

As I stepped through the tear, I couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between us.

Back home, the first thing I did was wash the sticky, lingering salt residue off my body.

I stood under the warm spray, letting the heat seep into my muscles and loosening the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.

My mind drifted back to the previous night.

Jareth’s sharp wit, that ridiculous splash war, and the unexpected softness beneath his usual bravado had been unexpected, to say the least. But refreshing.

By the time I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Maybe it was the ocean air. Or maybe it was Jareth being tolerable for once. Either way, I needed that clarity because my laptop was glaring at me like the taunting asshole it was.

I pulled on a pair of leggings and a loose top, then settled into the chair at my desk. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I opened my inbox. As predicted, it was overflowing with unread emails.

The first one that caught my attention was from Gabe.

The original leads with Burnt Toast were a dead end. They were all ghost accounts with no one behind them. I’m still trying my best to get to the bottom of this, but I’m getting nowhere.

What the hell was going on? Gabe’s intel was usually much better than this. Was there something deeper going on here? I typed a quick response.

Thanks for your diligence. We need a solid lead ASAP. Keep me posted.

Hitting send, I leaned back in my chair and sighed. I hated spinning my wheels. The answer had to be out there somewhere, and I was going to fucking find it if it was the last thing I did.

The next email made me pause. A subject line from a prominent publication group caught my eye.

I clicked it open and read. Then read it again.

I’d been nominated as one of New York City’s Top 40 Under 40 professionals.

I squealed, a sound I wasn’t entirely proud of, but screw it—this was huge. My heart swelled. This was the kind of validation that came when someone noticed the endless hours, the sacrifices, and the sheer willpower I poured into my work.

There would be a photo shoot and interview for the feature, as well as a black-tie gala next week to honor the nominees and reveal the rankings. I quickly fired off a reply, ensuring I’d make room for the shoot and interview, provided they didn’t conflict with my court schedule.

After hitting send, I leaned back and stretched. My entire body felt alive. This nomination was proof that my efforts weren’t just spinning in place.

The urge to share the good news tugged at me, but I resisted. Instead, I decided to celebrate in my own way with coffee and pastries for the office.

The coffee shop was bustling, but thankfully the long line moved steadily. As I waited, I scanned the menu for something indulgent. Everyone deserved a little sugar rush on a good day. Even me.

I felt it before I saw it. Someone’s gaze was burning into me.

Turning my head slightly, I locked eyes with a man who looked to be in his sixties. When most people got caught staring, they looked away. Not this guy. Instead, he raised his phone in my direction.

What the hell?

My chest tightened, but I refused to let it show. Image was everything, and I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react. I turned my body slightly so he couldn’t get a clear shot of my face.

My mind raced. Was he part of the media frenzy circling Genevieve? Or just some random creep? Either way, it was invasive, and it pissed me off.

I stayed in line, forcing myself to breathe evenly as the minutes ticked by. When it was finally my turn, I ordered the largest assortment of drinks and pastries I could carry.

The man still had his phone pointed at me as I left. I itched to flip him off, but I bit down the urge. The last thing I needed was a viral video of me losing my shit in public.

Once outside, I glanced back briefly. He was gone. I exhaled deeply. “What a way to ruin a good morning.”

I shook my head. No, I was not going to let it ruin my mood. This was my win, and no random creep with a phone was going to take that from me.

The last thing I expected when I stepped into the office was a chorus of voices shouting, “Congratulations!” followed by the unmistakable squeal of party whistles. I practically jumped out of my skin, clutching the coffee tray so hard it nearly tipped.

My team, grinning like a bunch of overeager kids at a birthday party, erupted into laughter.

“Holy shit, you nearly scared me to death! What the hell is all this?”

Theo stepped forward with his arms spread wide. “This, darling, is your Top 40 Under 40 celebration! How does it feel to be famous?”

I frowned. “How do you even know about that? I just found out this morning.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Have you not read the New York Times today? Big article. Your name is in print, baby.” He gestured to the desk where a copy of the newspaper sat, folded open to the exact page.

Sure enough, there was a feature about the honorees, and my name was there in bold print. My stomach dipped strangely.

I glanced around the office. My team had gone all out: tacos from my favorite food truck, a chilled bottle of champagne, and a ridiculously large fruit bouquet shaped like roses. It was almost too much. Almost.

“You guys are ridiculous. But seriously, thank you.” I sheepishly held up the bag of pastries, which now seemed pretty lame compared to what they’d pulled off. “I have pastries to contribute.”

They grinned and cheered, raising plastic champagne flutes in my honor. Theo, ever the fashionista, asked, “Now, what are you going to wear to the gala? Because if you need help picking out a gown, I’m your guy.”

I chuckled. “I might just take you up on that.”

As I ate my taco and sipped champagne, I noticed movement outside on the street. A group of people had gathered outside, hovering near the door. They kept glancing inside, whispering, pointing up at our windows—and then, the inevitable—pulling out their phones to take pictures.

Theo, of course, seized the moment and struck a dramatic pose in front of the windows. “If they want photos worth sharing, I’ll give them some.”

“Theo,” I hissed, laughing despite myself. “Stop it.”

He ignored me, transitioning to a new pose, this one involving him flexing his nonexistent muscles. Nadia stepped forward and closed the blinds.

“Should I call your bodyguard?” Nadia asked with genuine concern.

Theo clapped dramatically. “Oh, yes. Please do.”

I shook my head. “It’s not worth bothering Jareth over a handful of loiterers with nothing better to do.”

But even as I said it, I couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at me.

After a few more minutes of small talk and congratulations, I excused myself and retreated into the sanctuary of my office.

There was too much work to do to sit around eating fruit and drinking champagne like I didn’t have a care in the world.

I sat at my desk and stubbornly resolved to work multiple hours to get caught up.

But before I could get very far, though, my email chimed with a new message from Genevieve. My stomach sank when I read the subject line: It’s Getting Worse.

Attached was a photo, and I already dreaded it. It showed her stumbling out of a club. The caption insinuated she’d gone on a drunken rampage through the city.

The photo had already gone viral. I had been so caught up in the news of my nomination that I hadn’t checked social media. Huge oversight on my part.

I grabbed my phone and texted her.

Eva: Why did you leave the hotel? I told you to stay put until we had a handle on this!

Genevieve: I didn’t leave. I swear to you, Eva, I’ve been here the whole time.

Groaning, I tossed my phone on my desk and buried my face in my hands. How could I help Genevieve if she lied to me?