Page 6 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

I took the elevator down to the lobby and stormed out of the building, arms crossed tightly over my chest, heels clicking with purpose against the pavement. When he saw me, Jareth’s grin widened. The guy was all charm and no substance.

“Can I help you?” I snapped, stopping a safe distance away.

Jareth pushed off the post, his movements impossibly smooth, like he’d glided over rather than walked.

“We haven’t been formally introduced, unless you count whatever the fuck that was at the wedding,” he said, his tone as irritatingly lazy as his posture.

“I’m Jareth Lanza. I work for your brother.

” He extended a hand, his grin widening as if he thought I would actually take it.

“Yeah, no,” I said flatly, recoiling as if his hand was a live wire.

“Seems about right,” he replied with a shrug, unfazed. “Your brother sent me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“We need to talk,” he said, nodding toward the office window where I could just make out Theo and Nadia gawking openly. Theo waved enthusiastically when I glanced back, and I resisted the urge to throw something at the glass.

“I’m busy,” I said, turning back to Jareth. “Whatever this is, it can wait.”

“Preferably somewhere private,” Jareth added, ignoring my protests as he began walking toward the coffee shop on the corner.

Against my better judgment, I followed.

Jareth strolled up to the counter, studying the menu with infuriating nonchalance while I tapped my stiletto against the tile floor.

“Can we please get to the point?” I hissed.

He ignored me, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “What do you want? My treat.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said sharply.

“You need to eat. Put some meat on your bones.”

My eyes narrowed into slits. “Wow. Commenting on a woman’s weight. Bold choice. You need reform school.”

Unbothered, he ordered two pastries and two coffees.

He handed his card to the barista like he had all the time in the world.

When the food arrived, he carried the tray to a small table in the corner, gesturing for me to sit.

I reluctantly dropped into the chair across from him, more to avoid causing a scene than anything else.

He took a sip of his coffee. “Your brother thinks you need supervision. Someone to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re staying out of trouble.”

“Sounds like he gave you a babysitting job.”

“I don’t babysit.” Jareth smirked over the rim of his cup. “I protect.”

“I don’t need protecting,” I said icily. I’d worked very hard not to be someone who needed to be protected. “What I need is for people to stay the fuck out of my way.”

Jareth leaned back, unbothered by my hostility. “You’re in over your head with this Witt case, Delgado. Too much attention and not enough self-preservation instincts. Fragile human and all that.”

I clenched my fists. “Fragile?”

“I said what I said.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Your brother is concerned that, given all the extra attention, someone will figure out you’re his sister.

And if that happens, you’ll immediately become a target.

Not sure whether you realize this, but your brother’s a big fucking deal in The Below, and he has countless enemies. ”

“And?”

Ignoring my tone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek bracelet.

“Vivian has been playing around with more tech and magic inventions. Your brother insisted that I utilize her newest creation. This little beauty tracks your movements, monitors your heart rate, and lets me get to you quickly if shit goes sideways.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I said, crossing my arms again. “I’ve been on my own and handling myself for years . I don’t need anyone stepping in and making decisions for me.”

Jareth slid the bracelet across the table. “It’s not up for debate. You know how powerful your brother is. I don’t need to remind you what happens if you piss him off.”

The two of us stared each other down, tension thrumming between us. After a moment, I snatched the bracelet off the table.

“Nope,” Jareth said, smirking again. “I have to put it on. Orders.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snapped, but he was already standing.

To my horror, Jareth knelt in front of me, his hands deftly fastening the bracelet around my wrist. A collective gasp rose from the patrons around us, followed by a chorus of murmurs and a few camera flashes.

“Oh my god,” someone whispered.

“Is he proposing?” another voice asked.

I glanced down at Jareth, who looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Get up,” I hissed, my cheeks burning.

He stood, his expression unapologetic as he turned to the gawkers. “Delete the photos,” he barked.

One by one, the bystanders deleted their pictures, their faces pale under his scrutiny. When he was satisfied, Jareth turned back to me, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet.

“Twinsies,” he said, holding his wrist up next to mine.

Scowling, I slapped his hand away.

“Several things are going to happen,” Jareth said, his tone shifting back to business. “You need to take me back to your office and give me access to your electronic calendar. I’ll need to know your whereabouts at all times.”

“Not happening today,” I said. “I’ll schedule a time for you to come by the office. Eventually. Also, I thought that’s what the bracelet’s for,” I added, waving my wrist in his direction. “Tracking my every move.”

“Failsafe,” he replied simply. “I’ll also be creating safeguards and wards around your office.”

“Hell no. My office is secure. Next.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. I’ll swing by your apartment tonight to go over safety measures there.”

I stood abruptly. “I guess I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“You’re not going to eat your pastry?” he asked, pointing to the untouched treat on the table.

I looked at it with disdain. “No. It probably has cat hair in it.”

I turned and strode out, shuddering in faux disgust.