*He sat at the desk in his office and stared at a picture on his desk. What the fuck had happened? His life had been a blur since that fateful night he followed Aine to the elevator. He was still pissed as hell at Dia, Meison, and Satora. But they had done everything right. They knew there was no way he could go against them alone. The Order had his back but that damn bootlicker was a weasel, exactly like his former boss, Dragos. He took a deep breath, letting his anger go as he stared at the picture in front of him. How long had it taken him to recover? Even the journey to Scotland wasn't clear. Lucan had been right to move him before he regained all his senses. Then England. Thank God he had been sent to England. Nova, Catriona. He didn't care what name she went by, it only mattered that she was his now.*
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