Page 69 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

The use of his nickname softened his expression, though the wariness didn’t leave his eyes. He exhaled through his nose as he rose from his chair with deliberate grace. “Fine,” he said, his tone clipped. “But if you’re hiding something, Eva?—”

“I’m not,” I said quickly, relief mingling with guilt. “I promise.”

His dark eyes searched mine. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded. “Stand still,” he instructed, gesturing toward the ornate mirror on the wall.

I stepped closer, keeping my eyes on my reflection in the mirror. I stared back at myself with wide, nervous eyes. Raffaele muttered something under his breath, his hand moving in fluid, practiced motions. Shadows swirled around me, wrapping me in a cocoon of shimmering energy.

When the sensation faded, I blinked at the mirror.

The face staring back at me wasn’t mine.

My hair was now a deep, fiery red and cascaded over my shoulders.

My nose was slightly longer, my cheekbones sharper.

My body was fuller, my height reduced by a few inches.

I gasped as I stepped closer to the glass.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, touching my face. It felt the same, but the reflection was entirely different. “You’re… really good at this.”

Raffaele snorted. “I’ve had practice.”

“Thank you, Raffy.”

“Don’t make me regret this, Eva,” he warned. “Jareth needs to be by your side at all times. And don’t forget—this is temporary. Don’t get comfortable, and never become complacent. If you let your guard down, you might do or say something that gives your true identity away.”

“Got it,” I said quickly as I tamped down the guilt in my chest. If he knew the truth about where I was going, he never would have agreed.

The door opened behind me, and Jareth strode in. He froze when he saw me.

“Well,” he said after a beat, his eyes raking over my altered appearance. “I guess he agreed.”

“He did.” My pulse quickened under his sharp gaze. If Jareth knew I’d lied to Raffaele, he’d call the whole thing off.

“Don’t let her out of your sight, Jareth. If anything happens to her?—”

“Nothing will happen to her, boss man,” Jareth said.

Raffaele studied him for a moment before nodding. “Make it fast. The longer she’s out there, the more risk she’s in.”

Guilt flared again, but I shoved it down. This is my life, my work, and my case. I followed Jareth out the door. I can’t let anyone be a white knight for me. I’ve worked too hard to build this.

Jareth’s hand brushed the small of my back as we walked to the car. His touch felt protective, almost possessive, though tension radiated off him in waves.

“You’re lucky he agreed,” Jareth muttered as we approached the car.

“Yeah.”

Luck has nothing to do with it.

The second I stepped out of the car, I regretted everything.

The Crimson Dominion black market was the kind of place that crawled under your skin and stayed there.

The air was thick with a stench I couldn’t quite place—burning metal mixed with something cloyingly sweet, like rotting fruit.

My stomach churned as I looked around, the dim, uneven lanterns barely lighting the cobblestone streets slick with grime.

I tugged my jacket tighter, willing myself not to gag at the sight of the crowd.

Creatures and beings I’d only seen in nightmares milled about: shifters with distorted animal features, fae with twisted, insect-like wings, and cloaked figures that floated silently down the street.

Whispers filled the air. Strange words in languages I didn’t recognize brushed against my ears like ghostly fingers.

“Stay close,” Jareth muttered over his shoulder, his voice low and commanding.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. My voice trembled anyway, betraying the nerves twisting my insides. I resisted the urge to grab his hand, but every fiber of my being wanted to cling to him like a lifeline.

Jareth moved with ease, his broad frame cutting a path through the chaos, while I felt like I was one wrong look away from being swallowed whole. Every step deeper into the market made my skin crawl.

Stalls lined the streets, each one worse than the last. One displayed rows of glowing jars filled with disembodied eyes that followed us as we passed.

Another had racks of jagged weapons humming with what I assumed was dark energy.

Then there were the cages—small, cramped things packed with hissing creatures that snarled and snapped at passersby.

I froze when I saw one of the cages. Small, humanoid figures pressed their malformed faces against the bars, their glowing eyes filled with desperation and hatred.

“Jareth.” I clutched his sleeve. “Are those?—”

“Don’t look too hard,” he cut me off, his tone curt but not unkind. “You’ll sleep better if you don’t know.”

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze forward.

Sleep better. That was laughable. I was already teetering on the edge of losing it, and this place wasn’t helping.

Every instinct screamed at me to turn around, to run back to the car and lock myself inside, but I forced my feet to keep moving.

If Jareth could navigate this place like it was nothing, then I could handle it. Or at least pretend to.

We turned a corner, and Jareth stopped in front of a stall that made my stomach drop.

It was horrifying—a nightmare in patchwork form.

Jars of glowing eyes and skeletal hands lined the table.

Behind the vendor, a cauldron bubbled with something thick and noxious, sending trails of greenish smoke curling into the air.

But the worst part was the glass case at the center of the display.

Inside, a creature stitched together from mismatched limbs twitched faintly, its too-large eyes rolling in its head.

The man behind the stall looked like he belonged there. His pale skin was crisscrossed with scars that glowed faintly in the dim light. When he smiled, sharp teeth flashed, the expression not reaching his gleaming, predator-like eyes.

“Merrik,” Jareth said, his tone sharp and cold as he strode up to the stall, holding his phone out.

The vendor’s grin widened. “Ah, a familiar face,” he crooned, clasping his hands together in mock delight. “And you’ve brought company. How charming.” His gaze flicked to me, lingering just long enough to make my skin crawl.

“This isn’t a social visit,” Jareth snapped, shoving his phone toward the vendor. The screen displayed the photo of the rat with glowing eyes. “Tell me where it came from.”

Merrik’s grin faltered for a split second before he recovered. He tilted his head as he studied the image. “Ah,” he said, his voice dripping with exaggerated admiration. “One of my finest creations! A true masterpiece, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No.” Jareth’s voice was like a blade. “I wouldn’t. Who’s been buying these ugly-ass monsters from you?”

Merrik’s fingers twitched, his grin tightening as his eyes flicked between Jareth and me. “My customers value their privacy, dear boy. Surely you understand.”

Jareth leaned closer, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. “I don’t give a fuck about their privacy. I want names. Now.”

Merrik hesitated, the sharp glint in his eyes betraying his unease. Finally, he leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “This isn’t the place for such discussions. Come. We’ll speak somewhere more private.”

My stomach dropped as Merrik stepped out from behind his stall, gesturing for us to follow him. I barely suppressed a shiver as Jareth took my hand. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I tightened my fingers around his.

The alley Merrik led us to was worse than the market.

The lanterns barely lit the narrow space, and the air grew colder with every step.

The faint metallic tang of blood lingered in the shadows.

My pulse quickened with every heartbeat.

My instincts screamed at me to turn back, but Jareth’s hand in mine was the only thing keeping me moving.

“Jareth, are you sure about this guy?”

“I’ve got it under control.”

I wanted to trust him, to believe that he knew exactly what he was doing, but it became harder to push down my rising panic as we walked deeper into the alley. This wasn’t my world. I wasn’t built for dark alleys, patchwork vendors, and twisted creatures. What the hell was I doing here?

This was a mistake.

I shouldn’t have come.

But there was no turning back now. Whatever answers Merrik had, we needed them. And I could only hope we’d leave this place in one piece.