Page 34 of His Ruthless Match

“No time for pleasantries,” I said, though I smirked. “I’ve got questions.”

“Sure, because you’re incapable of small talk. Go ahead.”

“Genevieve Witt. What do you know about her?”

Owen let out a low whistle. “Well, she’s got a hell of a lot going on right now, doesn’t she? It’s all over the news. Why? Are you taking a sudden interest in Hollywood?”

“Answer the question, Owen. What have you heard?”

“Relax, man. This morning, a new bombshell dropped. It’s all anyone’s talking about.”

I sat up straighter. “What bombshell?”

“It’s all over the news and social media. Some serious political shit,” Owen said, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “Some anonymous source said that she donated millions to a presidential campaign, but when the money was tracked, it showed the funds got rerouted. Not to election efforts, though. Something way darker.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like her from what I’ve heard. Isn’t she supposed to be all philanthropic?”

Owen hesitated. “I don’t know, but it sounds bad.”

“Anything you’ve heard thatisn’ton the damn television?”

There was a pause. “You didn’t hear this from me, but my contacts in The Below are saying it’s a setup.”

I froze. “A setup for what?”

“No clue. Just whispers, but someone’s working real hard to drag her name through the mud.”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “If you hear anything else, call me first. I’ll make it worth your time.”

“You always do,” Owen said with a laugh. “Take care, man.”

I hung up and tossed the phone onto the table, my thoughts swirling. A setup. For Genevieve? ForEva?Or were they both just pawns in a bigger game? Either way, this went deeper than a few hacked emails and paparazzi ambushes.

Grelth cleared his throat pointedly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Are you going to finish that bacon, or should I save it for a less distracted version of you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. It’s yours.”

“Don’t sound so defeated,” he said, snatching the bacon from my plate with a smirk. “What’s got you so twisted up, anyway? Human drama?”

“Something like that,” I muttered, glancing at the time. My next client meeting loomed, but Eva’s safety nagged at the back of my mind.

“Fuck this,” I muttered under my breath, standing abruptly.

Grelth glanced up from his stolen bacon, his expression amused. “What now?”

“Work,” I said shortly, grabbing my keys. “Keep the house clean.”

“Always,” Grelth called after me. “But I’ve got my work cut out for me after your human-world stench has soaked into the fabric of this dining chair.”

I ignored him and slammed the door behind me.

10

JARETH

My new client was a werewolf named Kramath with sharp teeth and an even sharper tongue. He was seated across from me at a dimly lit table in one of The Below’s more discreet meeting spots. The room reeked of sulfur and old magic, and the flickering light from a single enchanted orb cast ominous shadows across his leathery face. He tapped his claws on the table with an irritating rhythm, his grin a little too wide, a little too full of teeth.

“Five targets,” he said, sliding a parchment toward me. The enchanted ink shimmered, shifting from crimson to black as the names rearranged themselves to obscure their details to anyone but me. “You handle them quietly, efficiently, and we’ll triple your usual rate.”