𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 ✔︎ || 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑

14

~ phoenix ~

The flight was short.

I wasn't surprised. Poland was right next to Russia. They were practically the same country sixty years ago.

On the luxurious private jet, Ilya had given me a suitcase. It was packed with everything I'd possibly need. From underwear to makeup, it was contained all the necessary supplies. Every item in it was designer and refined. I hated it. I just wanted my cheap Maybelline mascara and dollar store lip gloss. I didn't want this.

Nonetheless, I accepted it. At least now, I didn't feel like the worthless prisoner I was.

As we grew closer to the ground, I looked across the seat to find his stormy grey eyes locked on me. Our gazes battled relentlessly. I began to squirm beneath the intensity of his stare. He seemed to be lost in thoughts. What possibly could trouble the mind of the Russian Mob Boss? The most dangerous and powerful man I knew?

I looked away, feeling like I was intruding on a private moment. His guard was down. He looked vulnerable - like if I'd whispered 'boo', he'd have a heart attack. My gaze trailed back to the window, where the clouds were disappearing up above and the ground was rising to meet us.

We touch-downed in Warsaw approximately two and a half hours after we left Petersburg. I yawned as I climbed down the jet's step onto the firm ground. Why was I even here? So what if he had business? Was there a possibility I could escape?

The thought sent ripples of excitement through my body. But reality inevitably came crashing down. Somehow, he'd found out my grandparents lived here. No doubt that stupid Aleksey had something to do with that. If I disappeared, I didn't suspect that he could and would use them against me. This realisation was heavy on my conscience like the one that my poor Babs and Dza were less than miles away from where I stood. They'd probably found out by now that I'd disappeared in the thin of night. They were most likely losing their minds, and I could do nothing.

Frustratedly, I followed the ever black clad Ilya to a waiting SUV. He climbed in and dragged me after him. His grip was harsh.

"I'm going to meet some... clients," he told me, "you will wait in the car until I return. Got it, сука?"

"Whatever," I muttered, turning away from him. If I could only contact them, let them know I was okay even though I wasn't going to be for much longer... would he let me? "Could I-"

"No," he interrupted.

"Only for a-"

"No," he repeated more forcefully, turning to glare at me.

From then on, there was a tense silence. Good, I wasn't in the mood to talk. Not unless it was with my fists.

We drove for a good hour. Every now and then, Ilya would look agitatedly at his phone and then, out of the window. At some point, he'd begun to tap a rhythmless beat with his foot. No matter what he did, I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Not with tears in my eyes.

I still couldn't believe what was happening. From planning the best summer vacation to the worst reality, fate hadn't spared me. I was a firm believer of karma. So what did I do to deserve this? And would he repay for torturing me like this? I doubted it. Would he ever be snatched away from the person he loved so dearly? Would he have to release someone he was crazy about for their own good? I almost scoffed aloud at the thought. First, he'd need to be capable of such a sacred feeling. And that, for this ruthless monster, was impossible.

Some times later, the car came to a halt. I almost fainted with relief. I desperately needed a toilet break. Out of nervousness, I'd drank too much water in the jet. My hand reached out to open the car door, until calloused fingers stop me.

"Did you not hear when I said you would stay in the car, сука?" he growled in my ear. When did he come so close?

"I need the toilet," I pleaded, my knees bouncing. I was too desperate to focus on the fact that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. Or the fact that his body warmth was seeping into my own.

There was an agonising moment of silence. Didn't he believe me? I turned to face him, earnestness clear on my face. Finally, he released an aggravated groan, before opening the door and shoving me out. 

"You use the restroom and come out immediately," he ordered, a threat evident in his tone.

"Yes," I promised breathlessly.

I landed on gravel before a large, tumbling mansion. My jaw hung open at the mammoth architectural masterpiece. I could've counted eight storeys. It had an old cottage look, with flowers and vines climbing up the window panes. Something about the wooden furnishings felt homely, familiar. This was surprising since I'd never been to Poland before today. Babs and Dza only told me stories of the picturesque woodland and the everlasting daylight when they came to visit. They were right. What I saw was certainly breathtaking.

Ilya walked brusquely ahead of me, pulling me along. He released my wrist to do up the buttons of his suit jacket. His men surrounded us protectively. Damn, I wondered who his clients were. They seemed dangerous.

Seeming reluctant, he eventually knocked on the door.

I waited patiently for it to open and when it finally did, his broad frame blocked my view of the clients.

It was when I heard that familiar, comforting voice when my eyes widened to large saucers. My heart beat rapidly in my ribcage. Hope burst like fire through my veins. This had to be a dream. I was imagining it. They couldn't- why would he-

However after I peeked over his shoulder on my highest tippy toes, and my eyes met crinkled blue ones, I knew.

"Dza?"

𝑥𝑜
𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖎