Page 10 of His Ruthless Match

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, whoishe?”

“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.

I took the elevator down to the lobby and stormed out of the building, arms crossed tightly over my chest, heels clicking withpurpose 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 strolledup to the counter, studying the menu with infuriating nonchalance while I tapped my stiletto against the tile floor.

“Can wepleaseget 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.”