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My stomach flips with nerves when Mikhail’s voice grows harsh.
“What do you mean you can’t find him?” he growls into the phone. “Find himnow.Stop everything else. Pause all operations. This is of paramount importance, do you understand me?”
He slams his phone down and curses. With a shaking hand, I hide my browser.
“Everything alright?”
He stews but doesn’t answer at first. Finally, he shakes his head. “Ollie’s gone radio silent.”
Oh no.
I knew this was a risk they took but the actual knowledge that someone might’ve made a move makes apprehension rise in the pit of my stomach. Where is he? How far have they all gone just to keep me safe? Or more accurately, the baby I carry, the heir to the Romanov throne, safe.
I swallow hard and feel like a jerk that I’m totally going to take advantage of this situation to get answers.
“I’m sorry, Mikhail,” I say. “Do you want me to help?”
I would and maybe could, but he shakes his head.
“Not yet, but thank you. Aleks has some ideas and I want him to follow those first.”
“Got it.” I pretend to be preoccupied while he makes another call. When he rises, his back to me, I swiftly pull up what I found. Right here in front of me, I have a transcription of every text conversation these men have had in the past six months.
With dread, I start searching. I don’t need six months.
It takes me two terrifying minutes of rapid work while Mikhail is preoccupied to find the woman’s name again.
Tatiana.
I stare at the date and feel my eyes water. I feel sick.
This one came the day before I met him.
Do you? Perfect. Tell me details.
Woman named Aria Cunningham. Super smart, really pretty but a bit nerdy. On the run from several major organizations because she found out information she shouldn’t. I’m going to send her to you to offer her skills and you can see if she suits you.
Will send the first payment as we discussed. The second if I decide I’ll take her.
I jump at the feel of Mikhail’s grip on the back of my neck. He’s found me out. He sees what I’m doing.
I look up to him but only see a look of concern on his face.
I exhale a trembling breath.
He always grips the back of my neck. It’s his signature move, his hand on the nape of my neck. Normally, I love it. It’s possessive and intimate and I love knowing that I’m his. Right now, though…
“Are you alright, baby?” he asks gently.
I shut my laptop but it’s too late. I feel as if I’m going to be sick.
I begin to tremble, facing him. I need time to process this before I accuse him of anything.
No. No, I’m not okay.
I can’t lie to him.
Why not? He lied to me.
