Page 32 of His Ruthless Match

Gasping, I pushed myself upright, the reality of the situation hitting me like a bucket of ice water. “Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my wet hair. What the hell was wrong with me? She was my assignment, my responsibility. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But no matter how many times I told myself to stop, the images didn’t fade. If anything, they burned brighter, and I had the sinking feeling that this wasn’t the last time she’d unravel me like this.

I dried off quickly, shoving the moment aside as I grabbed my bracelet. My lips curled into a grin when I noticed Eva’s heart rate spiking only a few moments after mine had.

“Well, well, little human,” I muttered, my grin widening. “Seems I’m not the only one struggling here.”

After getting dressed, I moved to the kitchen, hoping to find something somewhat edible and preferably not moldy. The only feasible option was a box of protein bars. I growled low as I pulled one open and took a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.

The protein bar was an abomination. As I chewed the dry, crumbly excuse for food, it felt like I was gnawing on a piece ofsandpaper held together with glue. The faint taste of artificial peanut butter lingered on my tongue, making me grimace. I stared at the wrapper in my hand, as if it might explain itself.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, tossing it onto the counter like it was offensive trash.

Eva strode into the room, her damp hair pulled into a low ponytail, a few stubborn strands clinging to her neck. She was dressed in black slacks that hugged her hips and a silk blouse that gleamed faintly in the morning light. Of course, she looked perfect. Untouchable. A sharp contrast to the foul taste still coating my mouth.

“It’s a protein bar,” she said, her voice cool and disinterested as she breezed past me to the coffee machine. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet with one hand, already pouring coffee with the other. Her movements were brisk, practiced. Like she had more important things to do than deal with me. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Disgusting,” I said, taking another reluctant bite. As awful as it was, my stomach demanded fuel. “This is what you eat every morning? No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Her glare shot over her shoulder, sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you have an actual purpose, or are you just here to insult my dietary habits?”

I smirked and leaned back on the kitchen stool, deliberately casual. “As a matter of fact, I do. How do humans get around if they don’t have their own car? Or magic portals?”

She let out a scoff as she stirred cream into her coffee. “Are you referring to public transportation? Judging by your tone, I’m guessing you’re not exactly subway material.”

“Crowded metal boxes underground? Full of sweaty humans and bad vibes? Hard pass,” I said, shaking my head. “What else you got?”

She rolled her eyes. “I can call you an Uber. Do you know what that is?”

I stared at her blankly. “I’ve heard of it but never tried to figure it out. Enlighten me, wise one.”

“It’s a ride-share app. You request a car, and someone picks you up and takes you where you need to go.” She crossed her arms, sipping her coffee. “Welcome to modern civilization, Jareth.”

“Huh.” I nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds convenient.”

“It is,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “Do you even have human money?”

Wordlessly, I pulled out my wallet and slapped a thick wad of cash onto the counter. The bills fanned out like I’d just robbed a bank. Eva raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Subtle.”

“Enough to get me where I need to go?” I asked, grinning.

She didn’t answer, muttering something under her breath as she pulled out her phone. A few swipes later, she set it down. “Your Uber will be here in five minutes. Try not to scare the driver.”

“No promises,” I said, finishing the godsforsaken protein bar with a grimace. The texture stuck to my teeth, making me regret every bite.

After gathering up the few items I had with me, I made my way to the street, keeping an eye out for my driver.

The car that pulled up was gray, nondescript, and had seen better days. I opened the door and slid into the backseat, the faint smell of stale french fries and lemon air freshener hitting me as I sat. The driver, a middle-aged man with a weathered baseball cap, glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

I rattled off the address to The Shadow’s Veil tear, the garage that marked our entry point into The Below. He frowned but shrugged and pulled into traffic.

As we drove, I couldn’t help my curiosity. “So, how does this Uber thing work?” I asked, leaning forward slightly.

The driver blinked, clearly caught off guard. “It’s… an app. People request a ride, and I show up. That’s it.”

“Do you pick who you drive, or is it random?”

He hesitated, his brows knitting together. “It’s random. Whoever’s close.”