Page 4 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

He grunted and crossed his arms. “This was her first time in The Below since she was a child. There was no reason for anyone to question who she was or how we might be connected. Of course, she didn’t tell me about the attention from the Genevieve Witt situation until after I said my vows.

” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why am I explaining myself to you? All you need to know is that this is your new assignment. It’s more important than anything else.

And if anything happens to her, it’s on you. ”

I met his stare, my usual smirk faltering. He was serious. Deadly serious.

“Fine,” I said after a moment, shrugging like it was no big deal. “But don’t blame me for what I might do if she sprays me in the face again.”

Raffaele frowned. “What?”

“Oh, yeah.” I grinned, the memory of Eva wielding that plant sprayer like a weapon flashing through my mind. “Your little sister has a real talent for improvisation. She sprayed me with water at the reception. Twice.”

The corners of The Shadow’s mouth twitched, but he held his composure. “You’ll manage.”

I pushed myself to my feet. “She might be more trouble than she’s worth, boss. Just saying.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. He simply returned to his desk, his focus shifting back to whatever urgent task he’d been working on before I walked in. I turned and strode to the door.

“Jareth.”

I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his gaze.

“She’s the most important person in the world to me, besides Vivian, of course. Keep her safe.”

Something in his tone made me pause. It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even an order. It was a plea, wrapped in all the authority and coldness Raffaele usually carried.

I nodded, the grin slipping from my face. “Got it.”

As I stepped out of the office, my mind raced. Babysitting wasn’t my style, but something told me Eva Delgado wasn’t going to make it easy.

I sat in my car, the soft glow of my phone screen illuminating the message he’d just sent. The contact information stared back at me like a personal insult.

Eva Delgado.

The Shadow’s sister. The human I’d been assigned to babysit. A pain in the ass, if her earlier antics were anything to go by.

I groaned, tilting my head back against the seat. “Babysitting,” I muttered to no one. “Really outdoing yourself, Jareth.”

I wasn’t built for this. My skills were better suited to slicing throats and blowing up warehouses, not tailing some spoiled lawyer who had absolutely no idea how precarious her position really was.

I’d rather be doing literally anything else—hunting down baddies, tracking rogue shifters—but no. I was fucking babysitting.

To make matters worse, Eva Delgado had sprayed me. In the face. I’d had to suppress my cougar from clawing its way out of my skin, not only from the anger of being sprayed like a common house cat, but also from my cougar wanting me to move closer to her.

My cougar was a needy son of a bitch, always wanting me to find a mate, no matter how many times I’d told him we didn’t have time for that.

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, forcing myself to focus. If I was going to be stuck with this assignment, I might as well get a sneak peek at what I’d be dealing with. No time like the present, right?

I shifted the car into drive, heading for the Veil tear The Shadow had so generously provided details for.

The tear sat on the far edge of his estate, a shimmering ripple of magic that separated The Below from the human world.

I parked just shy of it, then slipped through with a faint shiver as the magic settled over my skin.

The air shifted immediately. It was sharper here, cleaner, but with an artificial edge that I despised. The human world always smelled like exhaust fumes, over-perfumed bodies, and overpriced coffee. And the noise—horns blaring, people yelling, the distant hum of music—grated on my nerves.

I called the driver whose services I’d used once or twice when I had to operate topside. “I need a lift,” I said as soon as the line picked up. I gave him Eva’s address and my current location, leaning back against a wall as I waited for the car to arrive.

When we pulled up to her building, my brows rose despite myself. A ritzy high-rise with clean, modern lines and a doorman stationed out front. Of course. Penthouse apartment. Top floor. Because why not? Spoiled rotten human.

“Wait here,” I told the driver as I got out of the car.

I couldn’t very well knock on her door and announce my presence.

This was recon, not a family reunion. So, I moved to a shadowy corner near the building, letting the cover of night cloak me as I removed my clothes and stored them in a pocket realm.

It was a seamless transition, one I’d practiced so many times I didn’t even have to think about it anymore. In my panther form, my fur was pitch black, blending perfectly with the darkness around me.

Silent. Stealthy. Deadly.

I scaled the fire escape with ease, my claws gripping the metal as I climbed to the top floor. The penthouse balcony was draped in soft lights, the glass doors leading into the apartment spotless enough to reflect the city lights below. I crouched low, keeping to the shadows as I peered inside.

Eva was pacing the floor, phone pressed to her ear.

She wore a pair of short shorts and a tight tank top, no bra, her figure perfectly outlined in the soft interior lighting.

Her long black hair swayed as she moved and gleamed like a dark silk curtain as it tumbled over her shoulders.

Her skin was smooth, warm-toned, and her posture sharp, commanding, like every step she took demanded attention.

I couldn’t deny that she was gorgeous—infuriatingly so—but then I remembered what a brat she was, and the thought lost its charm.

She gestured with her free hand as she spoke, her voice muffled through the glass but animated enough to make her frustration obvious. I stayed there for nearly an hour, watching as she moved through her routine.

She made coffee at one point, standing by a sleek espresso machine that probably cost more than my car.

She sat at the dining room table, flipping through file after file with a furrowed brow, occasionally scribbling something in the margins.

She was focused. Obsessive, even. A workaholic who didn’t know how to take a break.

Figured it would run in the family.

She wasn’t very interesting, though. No wild parties. No signs of anyone watching her besides me. Just a penthouse, a coffee mug, and too many documents. I sighed internally. This might actually be the most boring job I’ve ever been assigned.

When she finally stretched and rubbed her neck, I decided I’d seen enough. She seemed fine to me. No signs of trouble. No imminent danger. This whole thing felt like overkill.

I climbed back down the fire escape, slipping into the alley and shifting back into my human form. My clothes waited for me in the pocket, perfectly intact, not a wrinkle in sight. Handy, that.

As I made my way back to the car, I muttered under my breath, “Spoiled, boring human. This is going to suck.”

I could already feel the headache forming. Tomorrow, I’d check in again. From a distance. And hopefully, I wouldn’t end up getting sprayed in the face. Again.