Page 77 of His Ruthless Match (Below #3)

EVA

T he call came just as I was trying to convince myself to eat something.

The estate’s dining room felt cavernous and cold, the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread doing nothing to stir my appetite.

My phone buzzed on the table, and I glanced at the screen.

I didn’t recognize the number, and it sent a ripple of unease through me.

“Hello?” I answered, holding the phone to my ear.

“Miss Delgado.” The voice on the other end trembled. “It’s… it’s Eric. One of The Shadow’s guards. I was assigned to Genevieve’s safe house.”

A knot formed in my stomach. “What’s wrong?”

There was a long pause, and when he finally spoke, his voice cracked. “She’s gone. Genevieve’s gone.”

“What?” My heart started pounding, and I bunched the tablecloth in my free hand. “What do you mean she’s gone? How the hell did that happen?”

“I don’t know.” Eric’s voice pitched higher, desperation bleeding through. “We never left our posts, I swear. We’ve been watching the entrances and exits nonstop. There’s no sign of forced entry. It’s like she just vanished.”

“Vanished?” My chest tightened, a cold sweat breaking out along my spine. “You’re telling me you were there the whole time, and she disappeared right under your noses?”

“I don’t know how it happened,” Eric said. “Something fucked up has happened here. I’m so sorry?—”

I didn’t let him finish. I hung up, my hand shaking as I set the phone down on the table. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out every rational thought. Genevieve was gone. My client, the woman I’d fought so hard to protect, had slipped through the cracks while under Raffaele’s protection.

I pushed back from the table, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.

I couldn’t stay here. Raffaele’s estate felt like a gilded cage, every inch of it a reminder that I was under lock and key.

If I told Raffaele about this, he’d insist on handling it himself.

He’d send his people, and I’d be left here, powerless and useless. Again.

I couldn’t let that happen. Genevieve was my responsibility. She had entrusted me with her life, and I’d be damned if I didn’t take some tangible action to find out where the fuck she’d disappeared to.

My eyes fell to the bracelet around my wrist, the one Jareth had given me weeks ago. I hadn’t needed it for such a long time. He’d always been by my side, keeping me safe, watching my back. But now? Now I was alone, and the weight of that realization pressed down on me like a lead weight.

I stared at the small panic button embedded in the bracelet, my finger hovering over it. It felt like a betrayal, summoning him after the way things had ended. But I didn’t have a choice. Not this time. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button.

Seconds later, he appeared.

Jareth materialized in the center of the room, his chest rising and falling as if he’d sprinted to get here. His eyes locked onto mine, wide with confusion and concern.

“Eva?” he said, his voice low and urgent. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

I stood abruptly, my chair nearly toppling over. My first instinct was to rush to him, to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. But I stopped myself and curled my hands into fists at my sides. There was too much between us now, too much left unsaid.

“It’s Genevieve,” I said, my voice shaking. “She’s missing.”

Jareth’s expression darkened instantly. He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair as he began pacing the room.

“What the fuck happened?” he demanded. “She was supposed to be under The Shadow’s guard.”

“She was,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “One of the guards just called me. He said she just vanished. They didn’t see anything. No forced entry, nothing.”

Jareth cursed again, his fists clenching and unclenching as he moved. “I know exactly who has her.”

I blinked, my heart lurching. “Who?”

He stopped pacing, his jaw tight as he turned to face me. “Izo.”

“Who the fuck is Izo?” I demanded, taking a step closer.

Jareth’s gaze softened slightly, though his voice remained sharp. “All you need to know is that he’s The Shadow’s nemesis. A snake who’s pretending to work for him in the Crimson Dominion while running his own agenda behind the scenes.”

The name sent a chill down my spine, but I pushed past it, focusing on the immediate problem. “So what are you going to do?”

He turned on his heel, already heading for the door. “I’m going to tell The Shadow. He needs to know what’s going on.”

“No.” The word was out of my mouth before I could think better of it. I moved quickly, catching him by the arm before he could leave. “No, Jareth. You can’t. I need you to get me out of here.”

He froze, his body tense under my grip. Slowly, he turned to look at me, his expression torn. “Eva…”

“Please,” I said, my voice breaking. “I can’t just sit here and wait for someone else to fix this. Genevieve is my client. This is my responsibility. I need to do something.”

“I can’t,” he said softly, his voice filled with something I couldn’t quite place—guilt, maybe, or regret. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes as I stared up at him, my chest heaving. “Why not? You’ve never said no to me before. Why now?”

He looked away as if the words physically hurt to say. “Because I can’t protect you and deal with Izo at the same time. If you leave this estate, you’ll be in more danger than you realize. I can’t let that happen.”

“Jareth—”

“I’m sorry, Eva,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear it. He pulled his arm free and stalked out the door without another word, leaving me standing there in silence, his absence crushing down on me like a stone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and I stared at it in disbelief. I’d never felt so powerless, so utterly alone.

I paced the length of the dining room, wringing my hands and trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do.

Something was wrong. Worse than wrong . Genevieve had disappeared, and the fact that I was trapped here, powerless to do anything, made it ten times worse.

Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the clock was running out.

I stopped by the window, staring out into the dark expanse of Raffaele’s estate. The grounds were quiet, and the sprawling gardens were gorgeous with every plant in full bloom. It should’ve been peaceful, but this place felt like a prison to me.

I curled my hands into fists. Genevieve was missing, and I was supposed to just sit here?

Hide behind these walls while other people decided my fate?

The same way my sperm donor had brutally murdered my mother when I had no way of protecting her.

No way of changing her destiny, or mine, for that matter.

No. That wasn’t who I was now. That wasn’t who I’d ever be again.

I turned away from the window, my gaze landing on the bracelet around my wrist. My fingers brushed over the smooth metal, and for the first time in days, I felt something other than dread.

I felt clarity. Warmth spread through me, starting in my chest and radiating outward, filling me with a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt in so long.

I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed to do.

Jareth.

The realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

It had been there all along, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was undeniable.

I wanted him. Not just as my protector, not just as some fleeting distraction, but as mine.

I didn’t care what it took—breaking rules, pissing people off, defying my brother—I was going to make him forgive me.

I was going to prove to him that I was worth the risk.

The decision was like a breath of fresh air, cutting through the suffocating fog in my mind.

Everything seemed sharper, clearer. The shadows of doubt that had haunted me dissolved, leaving behind a burning determination.

I wasn’t going to sit here and wait for someone else to fix things.

I was going to take control of my own destiny.

“Fuck it,” I muttered under my breath, the words a quiet promise to myself.

Moving with purpose, I strode to the closet in my bedroom and yanked it open. Grelth had done an impeccable job hanging my clothes in an organized manner. They were even color-coded.

I grabbed a pair of fitted black pants and a long-sleeved shirt, something practical that wouldn’t hinder me if things got… complicated. After changing, I pulled my hair into a tight ponytail. I didn’t have a solid plan yet, but I knew one thing for certain—I couldn’t do it from this room.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and moved to the door, cracking it open just enough to peer out into the hallway.

The estate was quiet, the faint hum of conversation and footsteps coming from far off, likely in one of the sitting rooms or Raffaele’s study.

If I was going to do this, now was the time.

Easing the door open, I stepped into the hall and closed it softly behind me. My heart raced as I moved, my footsteps light against the polished floors. Every shadow felt like a threat. Every creak of the floor sounded like a gunshot. But I kept going, my determination outweighing my fear.

I knew the estate well enough to navigate without drawing attention. The servants’ passages would be my best bet. The narrow, dimly lit hallways cut through the heart of the house, bypassing the main areas where I was most likely to run into trouble. Or, worse, Raffaele .