Page 3 of Tainted Empire

Once inside, she doesn’t push me to talk, doesn’t bombard me with questions. Instead, she guides me gently towards the upstairs bathroom, telling me to take a shower and get some rest.

“There are some clothes in there you can use. We’re almost the same size,” she adds, a softness in her voice that I didn’t expect.

I manage a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Lee.”

She places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay? Just... take care of yourself tonight.”

And then she leaves me alone, closing the door softly behind her. I’m left standing in the small, dimly lit bathroom, my reflection staring back at me from the mirror. The sight of me - makeup smeared, eyes red and swollen from crying - is almost too much to bear.

I strip out of my clothes, turn the shower on, and step under the warm stream of water. And that’s when it hits me. The dam breaks, and all the emotions I’ve been holding back come flooding out.

I slide down to the floor; the water cascading over me as I let myself break down completely. The sobs rack my body, loud and uncontrollable, as I mourn the loss of the man I loved, the betrayal, the fear, and the overwhelming relief of being alive.

To think, a few months ago I broke like this because of Mikhail, and here I am again.

I don’t know how long I sit there, lost in my own world of pain and grief, but eventually the water starts to turn cold, and I force myself to stand up. I wash away the remnants of the night, the makeup, the sweat, and the tears, trying to cleanse myself of the memories.

But even as I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around myself, and find the clothes Lee left for me, I know that the scars of tonight will take much longer to heal. I’ve survived, yes, but I’m not the same person I was before. And I don’t know if I ever will be again.

With a heavy heart, I leave the bathroom, making my way to the small bedroom Lee pointed out earlier. The bed looks inviting, and I realize just how exhausted I am, physically and emotionally.

But as I lie down on the bed and slip under the covers, my mind still races, filled with images of Mikhail, of the gun, of the life I thought I had.

Sleep feels like a distant dream, but I know I need it. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the world, to find some semblance of peace. And eventually, mercifully, sleep takes me, offering a temporary escape from the pain and turmoil inside.

Chapter 3

Gabriette

When I wake up the next morning, I’m wrapped in a strange emptiness. It’s as if the emotions from last night have been drained out of me, leaving behind a hollow shell. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to process everything. But my mind feels foggy, detached.

Dragging myself out of bed, I pad softly into the living area, the wooden floor cool beneath my bare feet. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, drawing me to the kitchen.

Lee stands by the counter, her gaze fixed on the steaming cup in her hands. She looks up as I enter, offering a small, tight-lipped smile. “Morning,” she murmurs.

“Morning,” I echo, my voice a mere whisper, still rough from sleep and emotions. Hesitating for a moment, I add, “I didn’t think you’d actually stay.”

She arches an eyebrow, her lips quirking in a half-smile. “I said I would, didn’t I? You’re not the only one who needs a safe place.”

I find this odd. Isn’t Lee supposed to be some big name in the Italian and Irish mob? Why would she need a place to hide out?

She gestures to the kitchen counter while I think this. “Get some breakfast. I’ve got news you’ll want to hear.”

I nod, complying without argument. I’m not really hungry, but the mundane act of making toast feels grounding, something normal in the midst of all the chaos.

With a plate of toast and a cup of coffee in hand, I join Lee in the living room. She’s already seated, her expression solemn.

I take a bite of my toast, not really tasting it, as she starts to speak.

“Mikhail made it home safe,” she begins, her tone measured. “I just got off the phone with Lorenzo; he’s been keeping an eye on him.”

I nod, feeling a strange sense of relief mixed with anxiety. “That’s good,” I manage to say, my voice still shaky.

She looks at me as if debating whether or not to continue. “Mikhail wasn’t himself last night; I remember you mentioning this to Natalya and me,” she says.

I think back to last night, to the wild look in Mikhail’s eyes, the way he seemed so on edge. “Yes, he looked on edge the entire evening. Distant, like he was somewhere else.”

Lee nods slowly as if confirming her suspicions. “Lorenzo mentioned the same thing about their meeting the previous night. He was acting erratic towards the end of the evening, not like himself.”

---