Page 3 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

JARETH

W hen I stepped into my cottage the day after the wedding, my boots were caked with enough blood to make a coroner nervous.

Dark streaks smeared across the polished wood floor, and I winced when I glanced back.

It looked like I’d dragged a corpse inside, which, to be fair, wasn’t far from the truth.

Last night’s job had been a mess. Quick and efficient, yes, but bloody as hell. Even by my standards.

Sighing, I tossed my keys onto the side table.

The dull clink echoed in the quiet space, the only other noise the muffled roar of the waves crashing against the shoreline outside.

I craved—no, needed —the solitude here after jobs like this.

No bustling city. No lingering eyes. Just the sand, the ocean, and the occasional seagull screaming at the void.

My cottage was perched on the edge of The Shadow’s territory, far enough from his mansion to give us complete privacy, but close enough to be at his beck and call every hour of every day.

The Shadow called it a tactical outpost. I called it a sanctuary.

I glanced down again at the floor and grimaced. Grelth was going to lose his shit. He always did. I swore under my breath, bracing myself for the inevitable tirade as I stripped off my jacket.

Right on cue, the little bastard materialized in the doorway, his shadowy form rippling before settling into something solid.

He was barely three feet tall, his wiry frame hunched slightly as he stalked forward like a predator assessing its prey.

Wispy brown hair jutted out at wild angles, and his sharp, wide-set eyes immediately darted to the floor.

His long, pointed ears twitched with irritation as he took in the carnage.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You think this is a flop house? A barn? Are you trying to summon a demon with this mess?”

“Nice to see you, too,” I muttered, stepping out of my boots and tossing them toward the corner. Blood flaked off them and splattered against the wall. That earned a full-body twitch from Grelth.

“Do you even know what a mop is?” he snapped, gesturing wildly at the floor. “Or a towel? Or basic decency? You got blood on the rug, Master Jareth. The rug. That’s enchanted silk. Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean enchanted silk?”

I ignored him as I peeled off my shirt and tossed it into the hamper near the laundry closet. The hamper snapped shut with a mechanical clink, the faint hum of magic pulling the blood and grime into its depths. It would be clean and pressed by morning—if Grelth didn’t torch it out of spite first.

He was still pacing and muttering about respect being needed in shared spaces. “You think just because you’re The Shadow’s golden boy you can drag your murder parties in here without a thought for the mess? This is a home, Master Jareth, not a butchery!”

I turned to him, arching a brow. “You done?”

Grelth scowled, his shadowy form flickering as he crossed his arms. “You’re lucky I don’t quit.”

That earned a snort. “Where else would you go? You’d miss me.”

He grumbled under his breath, but I didn’t push it.

Grelth was a pain in the ass—obsessive, bossy, and constantly muttering about standards—but I had a soft spot for him.

He’d been here since I first took over the cottage, cleaning up my messes and making sure I didn’t drown in my own chaos.

He pretended to hate it, but I knew better.

The bastard thrived on order and control.

If I didn’t give him something to complain about, he’d probably die of boredom.

I stepped out onto the deck, letting the ocean breeze wash over me.

The sun dipped lower, painting the horizon in gold and crimson and casting shimmering streaks over the water.

The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, and the soothing sound eased the tension in my chest. I sank onto one of the cushioned chairs with a groan, letting my head fall back as I finally let myself relax.

“Of course,” Grelth muttered, materializing behind me. “Now you’re sweating all over the furniture. No one wants to sit where your swampy ass has been, Master Jareth.”

“We don’t have guests,” I pointed out lazily. “No one but me ever sits out here.”

He wasn’t impressed. “What if Master Grelth wanted to sit here? Should I have to sit on your ass sweat?”

I chuckled, getting to my feet with exaggerated effort. “Fine. Have at it.”

The second I stood, Grelth snapped his fingers. Magic shimmered over the chair, cleaning it instantly. He inspected his handiwork with a satisfied nod before shooting me a glare.

“Happy now?” I asked, smirking.

“Ecstatic,” he snapped, already disappearing back into the house with a muttered, “Why do I even bother?”

Shaking my head, I made my way toward the shower, peeling off the rest of my bloodied clothes as I went. My muscles ached with the familiar burn of exertion, but the promise of hot water and soap was enough to keep me moving.

I was halfway there when my phone buzzed on the counter. I debated ignoring it since it was probably nothing urgent, but curiosity won out. I picked it up, already scowling.

Boss man: Need to see you ASAP.

Of course. Apparently even his honeymoon wasn’t enough to stop him from summoning me like an obedient lapdog.

Jareth: Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?

Boss man: We don’t leave until later tonight. This can’t wait.

Groaning, I tossed my phone back onto the counter. So much for a quiet evening. I muttered a string of curses under my breath as I turned toward the shower, already preparing for whatever mess The Shadow was about to drag me into.

“Fucking Shadow,” I grumbled. “He really needs a hobby.”

I didn’t bother knocking as I strode into The Shadow’s study. Formalities weren’t my style, and after years of working together, I knew damn well he didn’t expect them from me. The door thudded shut behind me as I stepped over the threshold.

Behind the oversized desk, The Shadow paused his typing, his sharp gaze flicking up to meet mine. His dark hair was still immaculately styled, his tailored suit unwrinkled. Of course, he’d find time to work the day after his wedding.

“Do you ever knock?” he asked dryly as he resumed typing.

“Do you ever stop working?” I shot back, dropping into one of the chairs opposite his desk. The leather creaked beneath me as I stretched out and tapped my fingers on the armrest. “It’s the day after your wedding, man.”

He ignored me. Typical. The Shadow didn’t believe in distractions, even when they came in the form of a lifelong partner and a room full of champagne.

“You’re a real romantic, you know that? Vivian must be thrilled.”

Finally, he finished whatever was so damn important and pushed away from the desk. His dark eyes locked onto mine. “I have an assignment for you.”

I perked up, my lips curling into a grin. “Please tell me it’s something exciting. The last job was boring as hell. Very anticlimactic.”

Raffaele didn’t so much as blink. “This is one of the most important assignments I’ve ever given you.”

That got my attention. “Go on.”

His tone sharpened, each word clipped with precision. “I want you to keep an eye on my sister.”

I blinked, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, I let out a short laugh. “I don’t babysit. Can’t you put one of your other lackeys on her detail? I’m an assassin, not a glorified bodyguard.”

“I need someone with no attachments.”

I smirked. “Oh, I’m very attached to you, boss.”

He scowled. “I also need someone who won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. That means my top assassin.”

My amusement faded as I registered the seriousness in his tone. His shoulders were tight, his jaw clenched just enough to give him away. This wasn’t a game to him. Not that The Shadow ever played games, but this was different. This was personal.

I sighed. “Safe from what?”

He hesitated, and for a moment, I saw something like concern or maybe even fear flicker across his face. “She’s gained some unwanted attention recently. Her work with the human actress, Genevieve Witt, has put her in the spotlight. And she doesn’t take her own safety seriously enough.”

My brows rose. “So I’m supposed to play bodyguard while she prances around the human world? This doesn’t exactly sound like my area of expertise.”

“It’s not negotiable,” he said flatly.

I tilted my head, studying him. “How do you even have a human sister? Please tell me this isn’t some long-lost family drama you’re dropping on me now.”

The Shadow’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking. “You don’t need to know everything, Jareth.”

I raised an eyebrow, and he continued, his voice steady despite the obvious irritation.

“Eva is the result of Lord Thorne’s affair with a human prostitute. I got her out of his reach when she was younger, and she’s spent her life building something away from this world. She doesn’t want anything to do with The Below, and I’d like to honor her wishes.”

I let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s a hell of a family tree. So, what—you’re worried one of your enemies is going to sniff her out?”

“All of this unwanted attention is exactly what she should be avoiding. If anyone from outside my closest circle in The Below figures out she’s my sister…”

“She was at your wedding, though,” I pointed out, then immediately regretted my words when his eyes snapped in my direction. “Er, I just mean, if you don’t want anyone connecting the two of you, why didn’t you illusion Eva at your wedding?”

The Shadow’s glare hardened, his voice dropping an octave. “Are you accusing me of not making the right decisions to protect my own flesh and blood?”

I shook my head. “No way. Of course not. I’m just trying to understand.”