Insatiable Cravings - Episode 27

 

 

INSATIABLE CRAVINGS

Insatiable Cravings - Episode 27

Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game} 

TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.

Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.

By: Chukwuma Rejoice 

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

~ Dominic ~

She said it.

Genevieve King, the daughter of Kyle Walker—the man who orchestrated the attempt on my family's lives—uttered something that hít me hard.

She understood that it was unusual for me to let something like that slide so easily, despite us only having known each other for months. She recognized and supported my thirst for vengéance; if only she knew the depths of my plans.

As I pushed the door open with my elbow, balancing a tray in my hands, I paused to watch her curled up and asleep.

Her headache seemed to bother her more than it should, causing her to stir and toss on the bed. A whine or groan escaped her lips each time. But right now, she appeared calm enough to enjoy her sleep, and I felt guilty for having to wake her.

She needed her medication and breakfast, and then she could return to her slumber.

I set the tray down on the nightstand and took a seat on the bed, gently tapping her. Genevieve turned to the other side, so I tapped her again, only to receive the same response.

"Does that mean you don't want breakfast today?" I asked, knowing she was awake.

She practically jumped out of bed, confirming my suspicion. "Well, good morning to you, too."

"You really want to kick off the day with an attitude?"

"Why? Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," I replied truthfully. "How's your head?"

"Better. All thanks to you." Genevieve grinned as she reached for the tray, pulling it toward herself. "You have magical hands."

I'm relieved she's feeling better. Being unwell on vacation is nobody's ideal.

Seeing her face light up with its usual brightness, free of discomfort, warms my heart in a way that feels strange.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants and hummed teasingly. "Is that your way of saying thank you?"

Genevieve stabbéd one of the grapes I had placed in a bowl for her and chewed slowly, her gaze fixed on mine. "Yes."

"Weird, but I didn't actually hear the words."

After a playful eye roll, she said, "Thanks for last night, Dominic."

"You're welcome."

"Does this count as breakfast in bed?"

What else would it be?

Not wanting to delve into where this conversation might lead, I decided to redirect. "Stay."

As soon as I said that, I stepped out of her room, just catching her laughter as she said, "Wasn't planning to."

                              ☆☆☆☆

"Isn't today a wonderful day?" Genevieve's voice drifted softly into my ears as my gaze settled on her.

I pulled my gaze away and scanned the surroundings for the beauty she saw, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

I lazily shrugged and adjusted my baseball cap for the millionth time to shield my eyes from the sun. Genevieve wore a cap too since it was a particularly sunny day.

"Where should we go first?" she chimed, bouncing on her feet like an excited child.

We were set for a day of sightseeing, and we were just getting started.

"I don't know; what do you think?"

"We can just go with the flow," she suggested.

Genevieve also proposed walking instead of using the car I had rented, so we could see more.

"Sure."

Though the sun shone brightly, an island breeze filled the air, refreshing and perfect for our health.

We were just ten minutes away from our apartment when Genevieve, the girl I was trying not to stare at, suddenly stopped. It wasn't just her stopping that caught my attention; it was the way she gazed with such interest, the shine in her beautiful eyes captivating me.

"Vixen?" I murmured, glancing from her to see what had caught her eye.

Oh, it's just a building.

"Isn't that gorgeous? I can imagine it as a resort or a hotel; it would definitely attract people because of its beauty." Genevieve mused, her tone as if she were discussing a painting in a museum. "It has such an attractive regal exterior. How do you think the inside looks?"

Do I know? No. 

Do I want to? No. 

Does she look absolutely stunning with that gleam in her bright blue eyes? Absolutely!

Genevieve King looked beautiful, even in the simplest hoodie—my hoodie. I tried not to let it go to my head, but it was nearly impossible to suppress the smile that crept on my face whenever I recalled how cute and small she looked in it.

But right now, something had her attention, and it wasn't me. I wasn't jealous or anything; I just didn't like it.

"I can't believe I'm starting to imagine how I'll design it." She laughed it off, as if it didn't matter. "It's a shame it looks abandoned."

It doesn't.

It just looks out of business. And maybe, it was.

I turned my attention away from the building to focus on the only beautiful creature nearby—Genevieve King. It was as if she could sense my gaze, because she looked up at me.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"But you have that look."

"What look?"

It's amusing how my clueless act always makes her frown. She doesn't appreciate it, but I can't help myself; her reactions are funnier and cuter each time.

Genevieve rolled her eyes and scoffed, prompting a chuckle from me. "It's not funny."

"Am I laughing?"

"You just did."

"When?"

I can't even describe how much I enjoy our playful banter. Even though she's glaring at me now, I know she secretly loves it too.

She tried to maintain her frown but soon it softened, and she let out a sigh. "I don't like you."

"But you're here with me."

"You always have a comeback for everything, don't you?"

I let a smug smirk creep onto my lips, tilting my head slightly. "What can I say? I learn from the best."

••

If I weren't used to stress by now, I might not be able to feel my legs from all the walking we've done. Genevieve, on the other hand, looked as energetic as she did this morning.

It's almost evening, by the way.

As the girl I can't refuse said earlier today after breakfast, we spent the day sightseeing, with only a few random stops to eat. I didn't want to; I was coerced into trying all sorts of foods by that persuasive someone.

Anyway, we're back now, and that's what matters. I dropped the shopping bags I was holding as soon as I stepped inside, then headed to the kitchen for some water.

I was still in the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. I couldn’t help but wonder when she had time to order takeout while we were busy all day.

But wait, even if she did order takeout, how did it arrive so quickly?

Instant palànic flooded my mind as thoughts of my enemiés knowing my whereabouts overwhelmed me. I quickly dropped the glass into the sink and sprinted to the living room to warn her not to open the door, but it was too late.

Genevieve was already at the door, accepting something from a man. She nodded, thanked him, and closed the door.

"Who was that?"

I couldn't control my voice; it was laced with worry and concern for her.

She noticed my state and walked over, a small bag in hand. Her palm brushed against my arm, and instantly, my pañic subsided.

Isn't it strange how just a touch from her can calm me so much, even without a word?

I don’t know what she’s doing to me, but I don’t like it. The feelings in my chest are confusing; sometimes sweet, sometimes pàinfully intense.

I can't handle this.

Genevieve stroked my arm again, pulling me back to reality. As usual, I found myself locking eyes with hers. Her next words didn’t help matters. "I got you something."

Something?

That could mean anything. What could it be?

"What?"

I know it seems like I’m asking what she got, but I was more confused and still a little spooked by that knock and whatever she had for me.

Calm down, Dominic.

"It's your birthday today, so I got you something."

Oh.

But how does she know?

Google, you idiót.

Shut up!

Serenity washed over me, and I let out a sigh of relief. I looked at the little carton bag she was holding and then back at her. "What did you get?"

Genevieve stretched it out for me to take, and I did. Peering inside, I spotted a velvet box, prompting a confused look from me.

"What’s in there?"

"You'll find out when you open it."

Always sassy, I see.

I picked up the box, hesitating to open it. Don’t blame me; I’ve only ever received gifts from Aurora, Uncle Ivan, and Dexter since my parents passed away. But I eventually opened it, and my gaze fell on a necklace.

A rather unique necklace.

Seeing my hesitation, she took it instead, lifting it to my eye level. It had a bullet on it—a golden bullét. As I stared at the necklace dangling before me, words eluded me, no matter how hard I tried.

Genevieve seemed to be waiting for me to say something while I hoped she would break the silence first. "So, do you like it? I didn't know what to get for someone who already has everything, so I decided to do this instead. I hope you don't mind. Why aren't you talking? You don't like it? I mean, you don't have to wear it if you don't want to; you can just keep it." 

She was rambling. She never rambles. Was she nervous? 

Did she think I didn't like it because I was silent? 

It wasn't my fault I couldn't process everything quickly enough to respond, nor was it my fault that my mouth seemed to have forgotten its function. 

After a moment, I gathered my thoughts and managed to speak. "Vixen?" 

"Yeah." 

Yes, she was clearly anxious about my reaction. It showed on her face to the point where she couldn't hide it. 

"I like it, thank you." The moment the words left my lips, she exhaled in relief. "How did you know today was my birthday?" 

"Well, a little birdie told me." 

Dexter. 

"Does this little birdie happen to be Dexter?" 

Genevieve flashed one of those smiles that was so infectious it could brighten anyone's day. "Yeah. He told me before the trip, and I placed the order before we got here. It was supposed to arrive yesterday, but there was an issue." 

I couldn’t help but watch her as she explained how she found the right jewelry company, described her vision for the necklace, and kept track of its progress.

The effort she put into gifting me the necklace was extraordinary. It was so remarkable that I almost pulled her close and thanked her the way I truly wanted to. 

"I didn't know you and Dexter talked." 

Oh, good. Change the topic to distract yourself from those unwanted thoughts. 

Dàmn it. 

Nothing could prepare me for her next words, which came out so casually. "We do. We actually talk a lot. Dex and I are good friends." 

Ugh, Dex? 

What even is that? 

"Dexter," I corrected her, just in case she had forgotten. "His name is Dexter." 

"I know, but Dex sounds a lot better, doesn't it?" 

"No." I snapped. "No, it doesn’t." 

Genevieve let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, clearly enjoying this. "You do know that Dex is in a relationship, right? And I'm sure I'm not his type." 

That's where she was mistaken. I knew Dexter well; in fact, I had known him for years, and she was definitely his type. She was everyone's type; that was the thing with Genevieve King. Her presence seemed to resonate with everyone in a way that drew them in. 

"Dexter." I said again, more firmly this time. "Say it." 

"No." 

"Then I won't give you what I got for you." 

Genevieve huffed, exhaling stubbornly before relenting. "Fine. Dex..." She was still teasing me, and worse, she was enjoying it. "Ter." 

"Good." I retrieved the necklace from her and went to sit on the sofa. 

"Dominic." 

"What?" 

"What did you get for me?" 

"Oh, nothing." 

"Hey," she said, quickly grabbing a pillow and tossing it at me. "That isn’t nice." 

"I'm not nice, Vixen." 

I told her, laughing. But I stood up and headed to my room to retrieve it. It was amusing how we both got each other the same gift. 

Genevieve wasted no time snatching the blue box from me when I handed it over. I watched with interest as she opened it, and the way her eyes lit up upon seeing its contents warmed my heart beyond words. 

"It's a dove," she declared matter-of-factly. The joy on her face only amplified the beauty and intensity of her ocean-blue eyes, captivating me. "My middle name is Dove." 

"I know." 

"It's beautiful." 

I couldn’t let her go without giving her a birthday gift. Yes, I knew her birthday had passed, but it’s never too late to give something special. 

"Why the gift, though? Not that I’m not grateful, but why? Am I celebrating something I don’t know about?" 

I laughed at her playful tone. "No, it’s a late birthday gift and a congratulatory gift for your test." 

"Thank you, I love it." The admiration in her eyes left me unsure whether it was aimed at me or the necklace. "Can you put it on for me?" 

"Sure." 

..

Genevieve was wearing the necklace I got for her, and it was even harder to look away from her when she had something from me on. 

Tonight, she was in a black mini dress that hugged her body so well that I found myself feeling jealous of the fabric for being closer to her than I could ever be. 

And it was crucial that I never cross that line; I was determined to keep things as they were. 

She wasn’t wearing boots but heels tonight, since we were going out for dinner. If a stranger saw her, they wouldn’t know she was still a teenager, given how mature and confident she looked. 

I felt honored to be the man by her side tonight, not some pesky little boy who thought he had a chance with her. 

Do you, though? 

I do, actually. 

But will you make use of it? No.

If you don’t shut up right now...

We arrived at the restaurant, enjoyed a pleasant evening, and now I was driving us back home. But luck wasn’t on our side; the car decided to break down twenty minutes from the apartment. 

“This is just perfect,” I muttered, hitting the steering wheel in frustration. 

“It’s fine.” Genevieve’s gentle voice drew my attention to her. “We’ll just walk.” 

I could walk, but she was wearing heels. The apartment was still a good twenty minutes away, and I didn’t want her feet to hurt on the way back. 

“You can call someone to come pick it up while we walk back. It’s not that far,” she added. 

“Will you be okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your heels.” 

“Oh, that.” Genevieve chuckled lightly, as if she had forgotten she was wearing heels. “Trust me, I’ll be fine; I can even run in these.” 

“You sure about that?” 

“Yep, let’s go.”

At first, we walked in silence, but then Genevieve started chatting about random things, and I listened. Halfway through the walk, I felt a presence following us as we neared a dark street with barely any streetlights. 

I didn’t want to make the first move or alarm Genevieve about the potential dañger. One, I might just be overthinking it, and two, I didn’t want her to pañic and ruín the fun I was looking forward to if it turned out to be something I needed to deal with. 

Though Genevieve had proven twice that she wasn’t frightened by my dàrker side. In fact, she seemed to embrace it and wanted to be involved. 

“Dominic,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think we’re being followed.” 

I didn’t have time to admire her awareness or tell her that I was already aware of the danger when a kñife suddenly jabbed toward me, nearly cutting into my waist if I hadn’t grabbed it. 

“What the héll?” The guy didn’t look like he was sent by my enemiés; his eyes shifted between bravado and feàr as he met my gaze. “Just give me the money you have, and no one gets húrt.” 

“And what do you call this?” I showed him my palm, which was bléeding. “That was a wrong move, buddy.” 

“Don’t call me buddy.” 

“Would you prefer I call you a morón?” 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pointing the knífe at me. “Watch your mouth. Remember, I’m the one with the wéapon here.” 

Before he could react, I kickéd the kñife out of his grip. “Are you?” I asked, my voice dripping with confidence as I flexed my knuckles, preparing for the fíght I knew was coming. 

He wasn’t difficult to handle, even with my injuréd hand. A few punchelés later, he was whining on the ground. I heard a startled gasp and quickly turned to check on Genevieve. 

What I saw made my bloód run cold. She was standing there, alright, but with a knífe held to her neck and a soon-to-be déad man ready behind her. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warned, fully aware that the mónster inside me was about to break free. 

It wasn’t always a pretty sight when he emerged from the càge I had managed to keep him in. 

It was one thing to húrt me, but it was another thing entirely to húrt someone I cared about. I didn’t take that lightly, and the end results were always blóody. 

A maniàcal laugh escaped me when he didn’t heed my warning. It was a dangeróus laugh, a final warning. “Back off.” 

“Give us the money, and we’ll be on our merry way, James Bond.”

Okay, I had no idea who that guy was, but there was no way he could compare to me. I was certain he didn’t do things like I did—or enjoy them.

Genevieve hissed in frustration and surprised me by kicking the bastàrd in the groín. He stumbled back in paín, clutching himself, while she laughed. “I love these heels!”

The béast inside of me wouldn’t be restrained until it got what it desired, and I knew exactly what that was.

Déath and blóod.

I was almost there, but I managed to rein myself in just in time. He was already beàten so bàdly that one more blów could easily énd his life. Although that was what I wanted, I didn’t need it.

I didn’t want to create próblems for myself in a foreign country that I couldn’t control. I forced myself to step away from him.

“Are you okay?” That calm voice filled with concern pulled the mónster back into its cage, soothing me.

But I couldn’t let myself relax just like that. How could she ask me that when I was the one who had just beatén a man nearly to déath?

Didn’t she see all of that? Why was she worried about me instead of the bastàrd I had just taken down?

She reached for my bleéding hand, but I instinctively moved back. Genevieve looked at me, confusion etched across her face.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I had to ask. Any normal girl would be freakéd out by everything that just happened—why wasn’t she?

“What? I am fine, but you clearly are not. Let me see your hand, please.”

“No. Why aren’t you saying anything about what just happened?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something. Anything. Just say something.” I snapped, my emotions swirling as I shouted. “I nearly killéd him.”

Genevieve glanced at the man on the ground and then back to me. “Okay, and? Didn’t he deserve it?”

He did, but that wasn’t what we were discussing right now.

“Genevieve, I nearly killéd him. I beàt him so bàdly he’s bleéding.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But you’re also bleéding; just let me take a look.”

“Don’t you get it?!”

“Get what?!” She yelled back. “What do you want me to say? Those men attackéd us. You defended yourself and me in the way you know best, and you want me to condemn that? Why the héll would I think what just happened isn’t hot as héll?” Genevieve paused to catch her breath, and I felt like I needed one of my own. “By the way, it was self-defense, if you ask me.”

All the self-control I had been clinging to snapped in an instant, and before I could even process what I was doing, my lips were on hers.

TBC

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