Page 5 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

EVA

T he conference room felt like a fortress with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Manhattan skyline, sleek black furniture reflecting the sharp lines of the city, and walls that somehow managed to feel impenetrable despite being glass.

I sat at the head of the table with a stack of meticulously arranged folders in front of me.

This was my space. My battlefield. I was in control here.

Across from me, Genevieve Witt looked anything but the Hollywood royalty the world saw on red carpets and magazine covers.

She wore a tailored blazer over a simple blouse, her golden hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

Even with her flawless bone structure and striking green eyes, she couldn’t hide the exhaustion etched on her face.

Her posture was tense, her shoulders rigid, and the dark circles under her eyes told me she hadn’t been sleeping much.

“I don’t want to sugarcoat this,” I began.

“This isn’t just about putting out fires, Genevieve.

We have to rebuild your narrative and take control of the story before it takes control of you.

From my research, these posts are tame compared to other clients I’ve assisted.

It’s not beyond saving. I can fix this. But for this to work, I need you to trust me completely.

I need you to let me handle the legal proceedings, the media, and the investigation. ”

She nodded hesitantly and twisted the delicate silver ring on her right hand.

“It’s just...” Her voice faltered, but she cleared her throat and started again more clearly.

“I don’t even know where this is coming from.

I haven’t done anything to warrant these leaks.

Most of it isn’t even true, but they’re still destroying my reputation!

How do I even fight back against something like this? ”

Her vulnerability surprised me more than I’d expected.

Genevieve Witt wasn’t supposed to be fragile.

She was supposed to be an untouchable Hollywood powerhouse who walked through life with effortless confidence.

But sitting here in my office, she was just another person crushed under the weight of a system designed to destroy anyone who dared falter.

“You fight back by letting me do what I do best,” I said calmly but firmly.

“I’ve seen cases like this before, and trust me, the system thrives on intimidation.

But I don’t scare easily, and neither should you.

We’re going to dismantle this, piece by piece.

First, we go after the source of these leaks—figure out who’s behind this and why.

Whoever decided to target you will regret it. ”

A flicker of hope broke through the haze of defeat. “You really think you can fix this?”

“I don’t think,” I said. “I know.”

I could see the shift in her. Her posture straightened just enough to suggest she was starting to believe me. Good. Hope was a powerful tool, and I intended to use every bit of it to rebuild her confidence.

The door opened, and Theo swept in with a burst of energy.

He had a stack of papers in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Quick update,” he said, setting the documents in front of me.

“The injunction request against that tabloid? Filed this morning. The judge should review it by the end of the day.”

“Perfect.” I signed the top sheet and handed it back to him. “What’s next?”

Theo hesitated. “There’s chatter about a second round of photos. Someone’s threatening to leak them by the weekend.”

Genevieve stiffened, her breath catching audibly. I reached across the table and put my hand on hers.

“Don’t panic,” I said firmly. “Theo, I want our investigator on this immediately. Track the IP addresses of any suspicious activity around her accounts. If someone’s planning a second wave, we’ll cut them off before they can even hit send.”

“On it,” Theo said, already typing on his phone as he left the room.

Genevieve’s hand trembled. “What if it’s worse this time?”

I met her gaze. “We’re going to stay ahead of them. You hired me to protect you, Genevieve, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.”

For the next hour, paralegals filtered in and out, dropping off updates, documents, and leads.

I reviewed everything, delegating tasks with quick, precise instructions.

I was in my element, but even as I juggled ten things at once, I made sure to keep Genevieve anchored.

Every time she started to waver, I reassured her and reminded her that she wasn’t alone in this fight.

When the meeting wrapped up, Genevieve stood. “What should I do? Should I change my daily routines? Avoid talking to certain people?”

“No. Keep behaving as normal, but be extra cautious of anyone you take pictures with and who you’re spending time with in public. I don’t want you to stop living your life. Just play it safe.”

She squeezed my shoulder with more strength than I’d expected. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

I flashed her a smile, one that felt more genuine than I was used to. “We’re just getting started.”

This wasn’t only about Genevieve’s reputation—it was about proving, to her and to myself, that I could take on a system designed to crush people like her. Like me.

No matter how messy it got, I would not let her lose.

Genevieve’s heels clicked softly against the polished floor, their rhythm a beat slower than my own as I walked her to the door. She offered me a small smile, but the exhaustion in her eyes hadn’t lifted, even after I spent the better part of an hour reassuring her.

“Call me if anything changes,” I said, holding the elevator door open for her. “And Genevieve? Don’t let them see you flinch.”

Her lips curved. “I won’t.”

I stood there until the elevator doors slid shut. When I turned, Theo and Nadia were hovering just a few feet away. Theo, as usual, looked like he was buzzing with barely contained excitement, while Nadia stood beside him, her calm demeanor a sharp contrast.

“That seemed like it went well,” Theo said, practically bouncing on his toes. His bright smile was infectious, his energy somehow endless even on days like this. “She’s... I mean, she’s amazing. Did she talk about her next movie? Or what she eats for breakfast?”

I arched a brow. “Theo, this is a law firm, not a fan club. Professionalism is key if we want to keep high-profile clients like Genevieve.”

His face fell slightly, and his shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “Right. Of course. Totally professional. Got it.”

“What can I do to help?” Nadia asked, calm and measured as always.

I allowed myself a small smile. “Glad you asked.”

I turned on my heel, heading back to my office. By the time I returned, I was carrying a stack of thick folders, each one heavier than it looked. I set them down on Nadia’s desk with a satisfying thud.

“This,” I said, gesturing to the pile, “is Genevieve’s detailed phone history for the past three years. I need you to go through it and flag any instances where this number calls or texts her.” I handed her a sticky note with a neatly scrawled phone number.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sheer volume of paperwork. “I’ll get right on it,” she said, her tone steady despite the daunting task in front of her.

I collapsed into the chair across from her desk with a sigh and rubbed the back of my neck. It was only when Theo’s shadow fell over me that I realized he was watching me with concern.

“Have you eaten lunch yet?” he asked, his tone halfway between exasperation and worry.

“It’s not lunchtime,” I replied, waving him off. “I’m fine.”

Theo glanced at his watch, his eyebrows shooting up. “Eva, it’s two-thirty.”

I blinked in surprise. Time had a way of slipping through my fingers when I was working, but this was bad even for me. Before I could argue, Theo tossed a packet of peanut butter crackers on the desk.

“Eat. Now,” he insisted, crossing his arms like he was daring me to fight him on it.

I sighed but tore open the packet and bit into one of the crackers. It was dry and vaguely salty, but it was better than nothing. I was halfway through the second one when Theo’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped slightly.

I frowned. “What?”

His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Okay, I don’t want to freak you out, but there is an alarmingly attractive man standing on the street and staring up through the window at you.”

I froze mid-bite, my stomach twisting. “What?” I hissed, already dreading what I’d see.

Turning slowly, I peered through the windows. It took me a moment to find him down on the street, but there he was.

The smug shifter from Raffaele’s wedding, Jareth.

He was leaning casually against a streetlamp, his tailored jacket fitting too perfectly to be off the rack.

His sharp jawline and tousled hair practically screamed trouble, but it was the look on his face that set my nerves on edge.

That lazy smirk, that infuriating glint in his eyes—it was like he’d come here just to piss me off.

He raised a hand in, his expression as casual as if we were old friends.

“What the actual fuck?” I muttered under my breath, spinning back around to face Theo.

“Should I call the cops?” Theo asked, his voice rising slightly in panic.

“No,” I said, standing abruptly and straightening my blazer. “I know who he is. I’ll handle it.”

Theo blinked. “Wait, who is he?”

“No one you need to worry about,” I said, brushing past him and heading for the door.

My heels clicked against the floor with sharp, deliberate precision, each step fueled by irritation and a tiny bit of fear.

My gut told me he was not here to hurt me, but it was still unnerving to know that a powerful magical creature from my brother’s world was here to see me.