Page 18 of His Ruthless Match
By the timeI reached my apartment building, a bone-deep fatigue had settled over me, and I couldn’t shake it off. Being in court that afternoon for one of my other cases had drained me, and the rest of the day hadn’t been much kinder. Every lead I’d chased about Genevieve’s leaked photo had come to a dead end, and the claims about the man in the picture—married, for fuck’s sake—had thrown gasoline onto an already roaring fire.
The press was salivating over it. Scandalous headlines were splashed across every tabloid, and the rumors online were worse. The pressure was mounting, and every minute lost tightened the noose around my neck. I had no idea how to contain it yet, and that thought alone made me want to scream.
As the elevator doors slid open, I sighed and dug my keys from my purse. Before I reached my door, I heard Raffaele’s voice coming from his apartment.
Shit. I’d forgotten our meeting.
Well, there was no avoiding it now. Taking a deep breath, I strode into his penthouse without knocking. Better to rip off the bandage quickly.
Raffaele was on the phone, his words clipped as he issued orders. His gaze flicked to me as I entered, and he ended the call with a swift, “I’ll handle it. Keep me updated.” He smiled warmly at me, and the sharp angles of his face softened. “Eva, I was starting to think you’d ditched me.”
“Busy day,” I said, dropping my purse onto a nearby chair and collapsing into another. “How’s married life?”
“Wonderful,” he said, his tone light for once. “But let’s skip the small talk. How’s Genevieve’s case?”
Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Someone’s definitely targeting her, but I haven’t figured out who or why. And the press are fucking vultures. Plus, her PR team is useless. I’m advising Genevieve to find someone new. If I don’t get ahead of this soon, her career is going to take a serious hit.”
“You’ll figure it out, Eva. You always do.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” I said, trying not to sound as drained as I felt. “But this isn’t just about winning a case for me. It’s her life—her reputation. I can’t be the one who lets that tank.”
He nodded, his expression growing more serious. “I hate to hear that about Genevieve, but I meant you. Anything unusual happening? Anyone following you?”
I snorted. “Unless you count your dumbass assassin showing up uninvited in the middle of my apartment or breaking into my office without my consent, no. Nothing new.”
Before he could respond, the door opened, and Jareth strolled in like he owned the place, a paper bag in hand. The rich aroma of takeout filled the air, and my stomach growled traitorously, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since... breakfast? Maybe?
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I demanded.
Jareth didn’t so much as flinch as he dropped the bag on the table and shot me an infuriating grin. “Dinner. Figured you haven’t eaten anything substantial today.”
“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.
“Did you know your sister doesn’t take care of herself?” Jareth asked Raffaele, his voice dripping with mock concern.
I glared at him. “Are you really tattling on me right now?”
Jareth shrugged. “Just stating facts.”
“Enough,” Raffaele said, holding up a hand like a teacher mediating squabbling children. “Eva, let Jareth do his job. Jareth, stop being an asshole.”
“Define ‘job,’” I said, but Raffaele ignored me as he headed for the door.
“Eva, I know you value your privacy and independence, but I value your safety more than any of that. This is only temporary. You need to play nice with Jareth. And I expect the utmost professionalism from you, Jareth.”
Jareth nodded.
“I’ll leave you two to bond. Try not to kill each other,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the hallway before I could fire off a retort.
Jareth settled into one of the chairs with the relaxed air of someone who had nowhere better to be. The takeout mocked me with its tantalizing smell. My stomach growled again, louder this time.
“Well?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you going to eat, or are you just going to sit there and glower at me?”
Cursing, I grabbed the bag, yanking out a takeout container and a pair of chopsticks. The food looked too good for me to refuse, even though accepting it felt like losing a battle of wills between Jareth and me. As I started eating, Jareth’s amused gaze never left me.
“You’re unbearable,” I muttered around a mouthful of noodles.
“Thanks. I try.”
