𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛

07

~ phoenix ~

I stared at the woman in the mirror.

The silver, gem-encrusted material spilled like a waterfall over every curve of my body. It dipped low, exposing the inner valley of my breasts. However, the slit was narrow enough to conceal the crater on my right shoulder.

Gianna watched me with the eyes of a hawk as I raised a hand to dust my cheeks with some rouge. We were barely on speaking terms after I returned from the east border; but after the nurse insisted I 'take it easy', the brunette insisted she'd be on crime watch. I winced a moment later, realising I lifted the limb too high.

"Phee!" the overbearing brunette admonished, snatching the brush out of my grip. "I said let me do it!"

I was surprised that she'd actually spoken a full sentence to me before the condescending tone registered. Glaring, I stepped back. "And I said I'm fine."

She scoffed, slamming the brush on the dressing table. "The bullet nearly shattered your collar bone. And you're still being stubborn."

"I've had worse."

She seemed incredulously speechless, wide eyes burning into me before gritting, "Phoenix, why are you trying to destroy yourself? I saw the fucking pills! You were off them for months—"

I interrupted, coldly, "They're for the pain."

"Bullshit, I saw them in Chicago too. I spoke to Matthias."

Enraged, I slammed my left hand onto the wooden surface. "You spoke to my own damn doctor behind my back? Matthias, huh? You fucking him too?" The hand began to tremble.

Gianna stiffened, her fists clenching. "You've changed, Phoenix."

"And you haven't. You whore around with every man in Warsaw and you think you have the right to call me out," I spat, lividly.

She didn't react, eyes shining.

"Gianna. You should leave."

"No, we should've left all those months ago, escaped that bitch of a father you have. Moved to a remote island, anything but this," she said, quietly. "You now have your own mafia— you didn't have to do that job. But you're addicted... to him, to those fucking pills, the pain."

I turned away, her words fading.

"Losing Ilya, losing... the baby—"

I snapped. "GET THE FUCK OUT GIANNA!"

The brunette did exactly that.

My hand shot out, grabbing the China vase from the dresser before hurling it against the opposite wall. I felt my throat thicken, then a choked gasp escaped my lips. My fingers buried themselves into my hair, pulling strands out of the knotted braid.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I stormed to the other side of the room, flung the wardrobe doors open and dived into the pockets of my trench coat. Empty. I ripped it out of the closet with jittering fingers, searching my leather jacket, then every shirt, every cardigan. It wasn't fucking there. The pill bottle disappeared— was stolen. Hot tears rose to my eyes. I couldn't stop the shaking.

Once more, my hands buried themselves into my dishevelled locks, trying to silence the blood rushing in my ears. Where would she hide them?

"Fuck you," I sobbed, leaping back to the dresser, searching every square inch of each drawer. No. No. No... no!

Stumbling back, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The woman who stared back was dishevelled, shattered, repulsive. I shuddered, sliding down the back of the bed. My head fell between my knees. "I need... my fucking... pills."