Page 12 of His Ruthless Match
JARETH
New York City was an assault on the senses, and not in a good way. The streets reeked of hot asphalt, exhaust fumes, and whatever unidentifiable fried thing humans seemed to adore shoving down their throats. Noise came at me from every direction—horns blaring, vendors shouting, the rumble of subway trains beneath the ground. It was chaos. Dirty, suffocating chaos.
Grumbling, I tightened my grip on the strap of my backpack as I moved through the crowd. The Shadow could spin it however he liked, but following his sister around while she played lawyer was not my idea of a worthwhile assignment. I was built for taking out threats, not playing house.
But no one said no to The Shadow, least of all me.
When I finally reached her apartment, I made my way to the elevator, enduring the cheesy instrumental music all the way to the top floor. She opened the door after an eternity. She stood there, her hand on the doorframe like she was debating slamming it shut in my face. I raised a brow. “Well? Are you going to let me in, or are we having this conversation out here?”
With a huff, she stepped aside. Her apartment was pristine, all clean lines, bright natural light, and fresh flowers in artfularrangements. The air smelled faintly of lavender. It was nothing like the grimy streets outside. I whistled between my teeth as I took it all in.
“Fancy,” I said as I strolled inside like I owned the place. “I see your brother’s not the only one living the high life.”
Eva crossed her arms, her tone dry as sandpaper. “Take your shoes off.”
I blinked, looking down at my boots. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious. I don’t know where you’ve been, but I’m not letting you track whateverthatis into my home.”
Cursing under my breath, I toed off my boots and left them by the door, tossing my backpack next to them. “Happy now, Your Highness?”
“What do you need from me?”
I smirked. “Just here to check out vulnerabilities. The apartment’s, that is. Not yours.”
Before she could argue, I was already moving, heading straight for her bedroom. I heard her gasp as I opened the door, but I didn’t stop.
“You can’t just?—”
I opened drawers, sifted through closets, and generally made myself at home. It was part inspection, part fun. A lacy black thong caught my eye. Grinning, I held it up. “Figured you were too uptight to own something like this. What’s the story? Sleepover guest leave it behind?”
Her face went scarlet as she snatched it from my hand, slamming the drawer shut on my finger. “Get the fuck on with it.”
Laughing, I rubbed my pinched finger and moved to the windows, my smirk growing as I took in the stunning view of the city skyline. “Nice view,” I said as I worked to install extra locks on the sliding balcony door. “Shame you’ll need to keep it locked up tight.”
She glared daggers at me, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Don’t you think this is a bit excessive?”
“Absolutely,” I replied cheerfully. “But there’s no arguing with your brother.”
I made mental notes as I moved through the rest of the apartment—every point of entry, every potential vulnerability. As I worked, I slid my hand into my pocket, fingers brushing the tiny tracking device nestled there. I’d planned to hide it somewhere, but seeing how tightly wound Eva already was, I hesitated. I’d wait for now. Maybe.
By the time I finished, she was standing in the living room, tapping one stiletto impatiently against the polished floor. Her arms were still crossed, and her glare had intensified.
“Now you’re going to give me access to your online calendar,” I said.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
After a brief standoff, she relented with an annoyed sigh, pulling out her phone and begrudgingly sharing her schedule. As I scrolled through her appointments, I shook my head. “Do you ever sleep? Or have fun, for that matter?”
“I’m very busy,” she snapped.
“I see that.”
I wandered into her kitchen, pulling open the fridge. What I saw made my jaw drop. A block of moldy cheese, a single apple, and three bottles of wine.
“What the hell? Do you just not eat?”
