Page 28 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

EVA

I sat at my desk, tapping my pen against the edge of my laptop and pretending not to notice Theo’s delight at Jareth’s presence.

True to his annoying, overbearing nature, Jareth had insisted on escorting me all the way to my desk and then lingered for a solid thirty minutes.

His golden eyes scanned every corner of the office like a predator hunting prey.

“You can leave now,” I finally said, keeping my tone even but firm.

Jareth leaned against the edge of my desk, crossing one boot over the other. “Not until I’m sure you’re safe.”

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t have the energy to argue. My head was a jumbled mess of unanswered questions and worst-case scenarios about Genevieve. My gut told me something was wrong— really wrong—but until she returned my calls or texts, I had no way to confirm it.

“All right, you’re clear,” Jareth finally said after checking a million things on his phone that I assumed were connected to the security systems he’d installed.

He straightened and gave Theo a mock salute before heading for the door.

“I’ll be back once I grab my things from the cottage and take them to your apartment. ”

“Take your time,” I muttered.

Theo plopped down in the chair across from me. “Is it weird having him glued to your side now? Or are you two besties?”

“Don’t start,” I warned as I checked my phone for the hundredth time. Still no word from Genevieve.

Theo grinned but wisely dropped the subject. “Want me to grab you a coffee?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks,” I said distractedly as I scrolled through Genevieve’s social media. More videos had been posted since last night. This time, the videos and captions came directly from her account, and she was bragging about her wild antics.

The words didn’t sound like her at all, though. They were too crude, too attention-seeking. My gut twisted as I clicked through the posts.

Something wasn’t right.

I tried calling Genevieve again. Straight to voicemail. Sighing, I sent her a text.

Eva: Call me as soon as you can. This is serious.

My phone started ringing in my hand. Detective Brooker. I answered immediately.

“Detective, do you have news?”

“I do,” he said. “But it’s… interesting.”

I sat up straighter. “Interesting how?”

“We reviewed the hotel’s security footage from yesterday, as you requested. Unfortunately, several hours of footage are missing.”

“What?” My voice rose despite my effort to stay calm. “How is that possible?”

“Someone tampered with it,” he said bluntly. “We can’t determine who or how, but it’s obvious the footage was erased intentionally.”

My stomach dropped. “So, what now?”

“Now,” he said, his voice carrying a warning edge, “you be careful. This isn’t just about your client’s reputation anymore. Someone’s playing a dangerous game, and they’ve covered their tracks well.”

“Thank you, Detective,” I said, my throat dry. “If I need anything else, I’ll let you know.”

“Be safe, Ms. Delgado,” he said before hanging up.

I stared at my phone for a moment, trying to process what I’d just heard. Missing footage? Tampering? This wasn’t just a PR nightmare, it was something darker. I needed help.

I scrolled to Gabe’s name in my contacts. The phone barely rang once before his voice came through, light and cheerful as always.

“What’s up, boss lady? Calling to tell me I’m your favorite again?”

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temple. “Gabe, this isn’t the time. I’ve got a serious problem.”

Concern replaced the teasing edge in his tone. “All right, lay it on me.”

“It’s Genevieve. Someone took her. I saw it with my own eyes. The hotel’s camera footage was erased, and I can’t reach her. She’s not answering her phone, her texts, or her emails. But that’s not even the worst of it.”

“Go on,” he said, his voice low and steady now.

“Her social media accounts are posting videos. Bragging about her antics. But Gabe, these captions… they don’t sound like her. They’re crude, they’re…” I paused, trying to find the right word. “Manufactured. It’s like someone’s deliberately trying to paint her as some kind of out-of-control mess.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end before he spoke again. “And you’re sure she’s not the one posting? Because the videos I’ve seen are definitely of Genevieve.”

“I’m positive.” My voice hardened with certainty. “Genevieve might have her wild side, but this isn’t her. She’d never post something like this, not when her entire career is on the line. It’s too important to her.”

Gabe let out a low whistle. “All right, I get it. So, what do you need from me?”

“I need you to hack into her accounts. Shut them down. Block whoever’s posting this shit from being able to do it again.”

There was a pause, and I could practically hear him weighing his options. “Eva, you realize that’s not exactly legal, right?”

“When has legality ever stopped you?” I shot back, leaning forward in my chair. “Gabe, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think this was serious. Someone’s trying to ruin her, and they’re doing a damn good job of it. If we can get the accounts shut down, that at least buys us a little time.”

“Fair enough.” His tone was resigned but determined. “I’ll do what I can. Give me a couple of hours, and I’ll see if I can lock her accounts down tight. No promises, though.”

Relief washed over me. “That’s all I’m asking. Thank you, Gabe. I owe you one.”

“You owe me a dozen at this point,” he quipped, the playful lilt back in his voice. “But hey, who’s keeping count? Just don’t forget me when you’re sipping champagne with Hollywood royalty.”

I laughed despite the tension still coiled in my chest. “I won’t forget you, Gabe. You’re my favorite PI, remember?”

“Damn right I am. I’ll call you when I’ve got something.”

“Thanks, Gabe. You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it,” he replied. “Stay safe, boss lady.”

I slumped back in my chair and buried my face in my hands. My head throbbed. Every instinct screamed that I was running out of time. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of rest.

I heard footsteps approaching, and I glanced up to see Jareth strolling back into the office. He looked entirely too smug for someone who’d just been hauling his things around The Below. How the hell did he have time to go to The Below, pick up his stuff, and drop it off at my apartment?

I looked at the time. Somehow, three hours had gone by. So much for a quick rest.

“You look fantastic,” he said, his golden eyes glittering with amusement. “I’ve never seen you look better.”

“Go to hell,” I muttered, flipping him off. I caught my reflection in the darkened screen of my monitor and winced. My hair was a mess, my makeup smeared, and the dark circles under my eyes were impressive. Fantastic, indeed.

Jareth grinned and dropped into the chair across from my desk. “There’s nothing more you can do from here,” he said. “You’re going to burn out. Let’s go back to your apartment so you can rest. You need to take care of yourself for a change.”

“I’m fine,” I snapped, though my voice lacked conviction. “I can’t just sit around doing nothing.”

“Okay. I can wait.” Jareth propped his dirty boots on the side of my desk like a fucking animal.

I glared at him, but my exhaustion won out, and I sighed. “Fine. I’ll grab my laptop and let Theo and Nadia know to hold down the fort.”

Jareth stood, his grin widening. “Good decision.”

When we arrived at my building, Jareth trailed behind me like a shadow, scanning the hallways as though someone might leap out of the potted plants.

I shook my head but didn’t bother saying anything.

It wasn’t worth the argument, and if I were being honest with myself, it felt reassuring. Not that I’d admit that to him.

As I stepped into my apartment, I froze. The place was spotless. And not my usual “quick tidying before guests come over” spotless. No, it looked like it had been scrubbed from top to bottom. The floors gleamed, the counters sparkled, and the faint scent of lemon lingered in the air.

“Did someone break in and… clean?”

Jareth smirked. “Not quite.”

Suspicious, I made my way to the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a glass of wine. What I found nearly made me drop the bottle in shock. The fridge was packed. Fruits, vegetables, containers of prepped meals, snacks, drinks—everything perfectly organized like something out of a home magazine.

“What the hell? When did this happen?”

Jareth followed me into the kitchen, watching with a bemused expression as I pulled open the pantry. Every shelf was full with neatly arranged staples. There were even a few of my favorite brands that were hard to find. I turned to him, narrowing my eyes.

“What is this?” I demanded. “Did you…?”

“I’d love to take all the credit, but the truth is, I had Grelth do the shopping while I tackled the cleaning.”

I gaped at him, completely at a loss for words.

Jareth chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know having me around isn’t exactly convenient for you. The least I can do is make sure I’m not making your life harder. I figured I’d try to add to it instead of just getting in your way.”

Jareth—sarcastic, infuriating, maddeningly confident Jareth—was being… thoughtful?

“On that note,” he said as he strode past me. “I’m going to go run you a hot bath.”

I blinked again, fully speechless now. Before I could formulate a response, a sharp popping sound cracked through the air, and I let out a startled squeal. I grabbed the first solid thing within reach, which just so happened to be Jareth’s bicep.

Grelth stood in the middle of my spotless kitchen, holding a cast iron pan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

“Master Grelth,” the creature announced grandly, “has brought his own pots and pans for dinner.”

I clutched Jareth’s arm like a lifeline. After a moment, I realized what I was doing and let go, quickly straightening my posture. My heart, however, hadn’t caught up.