Page 87 of His Ruthless Match
“This morning, one of my men found security footage of you at the same club that’s been all over social media. The footage showed you taking your shirt off, grinding on strangers...” I paused, waiting to see if she understood what I was saying. “This means that the social media videos that have been going around weren’t doctored.”
Genevieve’s eyes widened in horror, her hands trembling as she clutched the tissue. “Eva, I swear,” she croaked. “Icouldn’thave been there.”
I stared at her, searching her face for any hint of deception, but there was none. It made no sense, but I believed her. I couldn’t explain it, but Iknewshe was telling the truth. I knew it on a deep, visceral level I couldn’t ignore.
“Okay,” I said slowly, crossing one leg over the other. “If you don’t remember being there, we need to figure out why. Something isn’t adding up.”
Genevieve’s voice broke. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’ve seen the videos of myself doing all the shit you mentioned earlier, but I have no recollection of any of it. It’s like it wasn’tme at all. That can’t be normal, right? Something terrible must be wrong with me.”
“I think we need to rule out any medical conditions. I’ll have my team set up an appointment with a doctor. We’ll get every test we can think of—blood tests, brain scans, the whole nine yards.”
She nodded quickly, relief flashing across her face. “Please. I’ll do whatever it takes. I need to know what’s happening to me.”
“I’ll arrange everything. One of the guards will drive you, and we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Genevieve’s lip quivered as she looked at me. “Thank you for not dropping me. Everyone else has. Even my own family.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I tried to keep my voice steady. “You’re not a lost cause, Genevieve. You’re just going through something, and we’re going to figure it out.”
Jareth, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional display, chimed in with his usual sarcasm. “Absolutely. You’re not a degenerate in any sense of the word. You’re a pillar of the community.”
I shot him a death glare, but he just shrugged innocently, mouthing,What?
Genevieve gave a weak laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks… I think.”
“Get some rest,” I told her as I stood. “And let me know if you need anything.”
Genevieve nodded, tears still glistening in her eyes. “You’re already doing so much. More than I ever expected. Thank you, Eva.”
I offered her a small smile before turning to Jareth. “Let’s go.”
As we stepped out into the hallway, I let out a heavy sigh. Jareth was silent as we walked back to the elevator, his expression unusually thoughtful.
“Well,” he said finally, “that was interesting. Maybe she really can’t remember anything.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
Something wasn’t right. I believed Genevieve when she said she didn’t remember anything, but now I needed to figure out what was causing the memory lapses and why the hell she acted so uncharacteristically while she was having them.
When we steppedinto my penthouse, the scent of something savory hit me immediately. My stomach growled loudly, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since the piece of bacon I shoved in my mouth that morning. Grelth’s voice carried from the kitchen, high-pitched and eager.
“I’ve been busy, Miss Eva!” He peeked around the corner, his small, furry face alight with pride. “I watched one of your human cooking shows. You won’t believe the masterpiece I’ve created.”
I exchanged a look with Jareth, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing. We walked into the kitchen to find Grelth standing on a step stool by the counter, proudly gesturing at what could only be described as a meatloaf monstrosity. It was massive, glossy with ketchup—or something that resembled ketchup—and lined with what looked like strips of carrots and broccoli.
“Meatloaf,” Grelth declared grandly, hands on his hips. “A traditional human dish. I’ve perfected it.”
I forced a smile, my stomach suddenly less excited. Meatloaf. Fantastic. “Wow, Grelth. That’s...incredible.”
He beamed. “Master Grelth thought you’d say that. I’ve been preparing this all day.”
Jareth snorted in amusement at my attempt to mask my dismay. “Bet it’s delicious,” he muttered, not even trying to hide the sarcasm.
Thankfully, Grelth didn’t pick up on it. “Come,” he said, hopping down from the stool. “It is the perfect night to dine out on the terrace tonight. I’ve already set the table.”
“It is a nice night,” I agreed.
The terrace was cool but not freezing. The city below buzzed faintly like a distant symphony. Grelth had arranged everything with surprising elegance. The candles that flickered on the table joined the city lights to cast a golden glow across the scene. It was almost enough to distract me from the meatloaf.
