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Patsy motioned with her head toward Rivet’s office and Shiver stood.
“You’re not a duke yet,” Rivet barked when Shiver entered his office. “Until you are, I outrank you and I expect you to respond appropriately.”
“Yes, sir. My apologies.”
“The resources of MI6 are not yours to make use of for personal matters.”
“Understood.” Now wasn’t the time to argue with Rivet, but other than making contact with several of their operatives, Shiver hadn’t used MI6 money to search for Kuznetsov.
“That being said, I am authorizing a fact-finding mission.”
“Don’t.”
Rivet raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not ready to give you an answer.”
“You’re under the assumption that I’m authorizing the mission in exchange for your acceptance of the position?”
“To a certain extent.”
“Get the hell out of my office. In fact, get the hell out of the building.”
“Rivet, I meant no—”
“Out!”
His brother laughed. “Did you wish him a happy Christmas on your way out?”
Shiver ran his hand through his hair. “He’s frustrated that I won’t give him an answer.”
“No, Shiv, he’s pissed that you thought so little of him.”
When his brother didn’t say anything else, Shiver thought perhaps their call had dropped, but then he heard him take a deep breath.
“We’ll find her, but in the meantime, you have to find a way to compartmentalize.”
If his brother was standing in front of him, Shiver would likely belt him, after which he’d feel equally as guilty as he did about his conversation with Rivet. However, he had no restraint regardless of knowing he’d experience regret.
“Where the hell is she?” he murmured in a way he wouldn’t to anyone but his brother.
“I wish I had the answer, Shiv.”
—:—
Orina looked into the most beautiful brown eyes that had ever graced the universe.
Mishka wasn’t just the heavens’ most beloved angel given to her as a precious gift; she was Orina’s world, and she would do anything to protect her.
“What shall we do today?” she whispered, kissing her baby’s brow.
Mishka cooed and gave her one of the sweet smiles Orina craved.
She heard the burner cell she kept near the bedside table vibrate and ran to grab it.
“Losha,” she heard the woman’s voice say. “It’s Zary.”
Only then did Orina speak. No one else knew the phone’s number, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think it would stay that way. United Russia’s reach was global, and eventually, regardless of what fail-safes she put in place, they’d find her.
