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Insatiable Cravings - Episode 47

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INSATIABLE CRAVINGS

Insatiable Cravings - Episode 47

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 


★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★


Genevieve ~


Dominic's hands tightened around my waist as he pulled me closer to his broad form, our lips meeting in a sweet dance of passion that intensified with each fleeting second. 


My thoughts didn’t even drift to the body lying on the floor as I wrapped my arms around his neck and tilted my head to deepen the kiss. His lips against mine felt like heaven—sheer bliss. 


When we finally pulled away to catch our breath, our gazes collided. I stared at him unflinchingly, relishing the moment of being back in his arms. 


Dominic then exhaled, the warm breath hitting my face, prompting my eyelids to flutter closed. When I opened them again, I found him looking back at me, his expression so intense I felt I might melt. 


It wasn’t a gaze filled with hatréd or lúst. No, what I saw in those golden-brown eyes, flecked with green—how I adored those flecks—was immense adoration. He regarded me as though I could both rún him and save him, and he wouldn’t lift a finger to stop it. 


In those eyes lay admiration and, dare I say, love. His fingers cradled my face, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on my forehead.


Have I mentioned how much I adore his forehead kisses?


They are simply divine, so comforting, so... so home. I find solace in his embrace and peace whenever he reassures me of his presence with those tender kisses. 


"I never want to lose you, Genevieve," he said, his voice cracking as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.


The way he repeated that, as if he foresaw a future without me, was rather alarming, to be honest. And impossible too—why on God's good Earth would I ever leave such a gem of a man? 


"You won’t," I reassured him. "It’s you and I together, forever, Dominic Morozov." 


He didn’t respond verbally, but he nodded, his hands gradually slipping from my waist. His gaze roamed the room as if searching for something before his eyes landed on Brady. 


"By the way, how on earth did you find me?" The question slipped out before I could think twice. 


His amber eyes flicked down at me as he replied, "Tracker." 


What tracker? 


I knew for a fact I didn’t have any tracking devices on me, and my phone’s location was always turned off, so I was utterly baffled. 


"I don’t understand." 


"There’s a tracker in the haft of the knífe." 


"That knífe?" I pointed at the blàde embedded in Brady's chest as if there could be another knífe in the room. "How? Or better yet, why?" 


"I figured it would be useful someday, and that day turned out to be today." 


"Is that why it was custom-made? To accommodate the tracker?" 


"Precisely." 


"Well, that’s brilliant," I said, earning a full-blown smile from Dominic. I attempted to step toward Brady to retrieve the knífe when Dominic grasped my wrist, effectively halting me. "I want to get it." 


"I’ll handle that for you. There’s no need for you to stain your hands with blóod." 


That sounded outright créepy and was an odd thing to blush over, but I couldn’t help it. My cheeks flushed as I watched him extract the knífe from Brady, wipe the blood away with a handkerchief from his pocket, and walk back to me. I also noticed he had taken the gún with him. 


"I’ll keep the knífe for a day to sterilise and resharpen it." I nodded, even though it wasn’t a question. "Let’s go."


Sauntering alongside him, I glanced over my shoulder with an inquisitive look. "Are you alone?" 


"No, Princess." At the sound of that irritatingly familiar voice, I rolled my eyes in exasperation. But of course, he had to continue, smirking as he added, "Glad to see you’re alright."


Sal, who I later discovered was actually Salvador, seemed to take great delight in getting on my nerves. It was as though he had found immense pleasure in it.


"Thank you ever so much. What would I do without you?" The sarcasm dripped from my clipped reply, earning a chuckle from both Dominic and Dex, who approached me, the worry fading from his expression. "Aww, look at you; you were worried about me, weren’t you?"


Dex rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Of course not."


"Really?"


"Yeah, I could easily carry on with life without seeing someone who can handle Dominic the way you do. No big deal." At the mention of his name, I glanced over to find Dominic smiling, thoroughly enjoying the banter between me and his mate. "Just kidding, I was worried sick. I think I forgot for a moment that you’re Genevieve King, and if you can handle an àrse like him, you can handle anyone."


"Dominic isn’t an àrse, but yes, I’m a big girl."


"Or a big Princess?" Sal interrupted, effectively killing my smile.


"Call me that again, and you’ll be joining Brady in héll."


"I don’t know; I quite like Earth."


Blade, who had been silent until now, smacked him hard on the back of the head, and I could have sworn I saw the faintest hint of a smile on his typically stern face. I approached him with my biggest grin, hoping to break his stoic façade as I always did, but he remained unyielding.


"One day, I’ll make you crack," I mouthed at him, and his lips twitched again.


A gust of wind blew, sending a shiver through my entire body, and before I could turn around, a jacket was draped over my shoulders. The biggest surprise awaited me when I turned to find both Sal and Dominic with their jackets ready to place on me.


Looking down at the jacket now on me, I realised it was Dex's, so I smiled up at him. "Thank—" My words barely had a chance to leave my mouth before Dominic yanked the jacket off me and put his own on instead.


"Let’s go." He said, his hand wrapping possessively around the small of my back, and I couldn’t help but grin as we approached his car. Dominic opened the passenger door for me, but before I could get in, another set of words emerged from his mouth, so low I nearly didn’t catch them. "You only wear my clothes, and no one else’s, got it?"


"Say please first?"


"Genevieve."


"Dominic."


"Fine, please?"


"Alright. It’s not like I enjoy wearing other people’s clothes; they don’t smell like you."


Dominic slid into the driver’s seat, and when I looked out the window before he drove off, I saw Blade setting the place àblaze. God only knows how long I waited for a sense of human compassion to wash over me, but guilt simply wouldn’t come.


Does this mean I’ve completely become a part of the Russian bràtva?


Too much? Yes, I think so too.


As Dominic drove down the deserted road, which felt more like a stretch of barren desert, I decided to recount everything that had unfolded back there.


"Dom?"


"Yeah?"


"I didn’t tell them anything, by the way."


A scoff escaped Dominic's lips as he shot me a quick glance. "Vixen, do you really think that’s what I care about?"


"I just thought..."


"Stop thinking," he interrupted. "I only care about you and you alone, not some irrelevant information concerning my bràtva."


I couldn’t help but smile at his admission as I nodded and settled further into the comfortable seat. "Well, do you at least care that it was the Brazilian clan who sent them?"


The car came to a sudden halt as Dominic whipped his head around to look at me. "What? That’s not possible; I killéd them all."


"So I’ve heard," I replied. "But you definitely didn’t finish the job."


"Well, it’s not too late."


                              ✧✧✧✧


"I received a call from your school today, Genevieve." I knew what my mother's next words would be as I stood in the designated spot she had ordered me to occupy. Her expression was as stern as ever as she demanded, "Why did you miss school?"


Oh, nothing much—just been kidnappéd.


There was no way she would believe that, even if it were one hundred percent true, so I kept my mouth shut. In fact, I said nothing at all.


"Genevieve, I asked you a question, and I expect an answer."


Wetting my lips, I murmured so quietly that I wasn't certain she heard me. "Something came up."


"What could possibly have 'come up'? Come on, share it with me." Mariah King had little patience for silence when she was demanding answers, and that’s precisely what I was giving her. She sprang to her feet and approached me, making me take a frightened step back. "I asked a question."


"And I’ve chosen not to answer."


"One of these days, I shall send you off to a distant boarding school where you won’t be able to embarrass me or the King name."


I certainly hadn’t expected to hear that, leaving me no time to mask my expression. The moment her words reached my ears, my blank facade crumbled, and hurt welled up inside me, the thréat of tears hovering just beneath the surface.


"Well, too bàd for you, because I’ll still do the same wherever you send me. And I’ll always carry the King name with me—it feels like a cúrse."


In an instant, her palm struck my cheek, and that was all it took for the tears to spill over. I glanced back at her, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I glimpsed regret in her eyes. But her next words shattered that illusion.


"Why can’t you be more like your siblings?"


My fists clenched so tightly that I was certain my nails were bruising my palms. "Maybe it’s because I’m not them. Maybe it’s because I am Genevieve, not your precious Adrianna or your forgotten Everett. I am Genevieve, okay? Genevieve. And I am your daughter too!"


Without wasting another moment, I dashed out of the house, jumped into my car, and just drove. I continued along the winding roads, with no particular destination in mind, my mother’s words echoing relentlessly in my mind.


The sun was setting in less than an hour, and fortunately, I was nearing a mountain where I could clearly see the horizon. Just as I exited my car and made my way along the footpath to the summit, my phone rang in my hand. I made an instant decision to ignore it, not bothering to check who was calling.


I needed to clear my head. That was the only thing that mattered right now—purging those dréadful words from my mind.


However, the persistent ringing of my phone shattered what little calm I had left. Without glancing at the screen, I answered it, placing the phone to my ear.


"What?" I snapped at the caller while continuing my ascent.


"Blimey, good evening to you too." I recognised that voice immediately and let out a heavy sigh. "What’s happened?"


"What do you think?"


"Let me guess, Mariah King strikes again."


"You've no idea."


"What do you mean?" Concern laced Adrianna's voice, making me crack a small smile at the fact that I still had people close to me who genuinely cared. "Did she hit you?"


"She slapped me, but it's no big deal."


"No, that is a big deal. She shouldn't have laid a finger on you."


"Well, perhaps her favourite child should have a word with her." Perhaps I was being a touch too bitter, but at this moment, I couldn't muster the energy to care. "I’m tired, Ana. Really tired. I feel like I’m on the last thread before I finally break."


"Don't say things like that. She's just..."


"If you're going to make excuses for her, please hang up. I'm really not in the mood."


Adrianna let out a deep sigh, and even though she wasn't right there with me, I could picture her closing her eyes as she did so. "Why don't you come over to mine? It's been ages since you last visited. Let’s have a sleepover, shall we?"


It was true; it had been months since I had seen Adrianna, and I knew it was mostly my fault. I'd been too caught up with Dominic, Julianna, school, and the ever-increasing tension between Christian, Jules, and Alessio.


I paused for a moment to consider the tempting offer as I lowered myself onto the ground at the mountaintop. Looking skyward, I breathed in the fresh air and smiled contentedly.


This... this is simply perfect.


Peace, fresh air, and there was only one thing missing. But I didn't dwell on that for a second longer before redirecting my attention back to my sister.


"Alright then." I agreed readily. "When will you be less busy?"


"This weekend."


"Okay. See you then."


As I hung up and dropped my phone beside me, I felt that overwhelming presence behind me. That presence that felt so large, so tall, too brooding, and yet so much like home.


I didn’t need to look back to know it was Dominic; all of my other senses were working perfectly well. I hummed, flicking my gaze back to the sky, and said, "You know it’s a bit créepy to stàlk someone."


"It is?" Dominic mused as he lowered himself to sit beside me. From the corner of my eye, I could see him looking at me. "I had no idea."


"Well, now you do."


"Why are you here?"


"Why are you here?" I shot back at him, earning a small chuckle. "Don’t you have something better to do?"


To an ordinary ear, it might have sounded like I didn’t want him there, like I was trying to chase him off, but he knew better. He knew me, and he understood that wasn’t what I was saying at all.


"Than to be with you? Absolutely not." His words brought an instant grin to my face. One moment he was mirroring my expression, and the next, he was cradling my face in his hands. "What the héll happened to you?" The fúry in his voice burned like a furnace as he glared at the obvious red bruise on my cheek from the slap.


"I’m fine."


"Bullshít." Dominic rasped, the rage clear in his eyes and even in his words. His thumb brushed over the surface of the bruise, so gently, so softly, and I leaned into his warm touch, closing my eyes. "Genevieve, who did this to you? Tell me."


"It’s nothing, really."


"Gen."


At the sound of his voice—strict and serious—I gulped down the lump in my throat. My gaze flitted between his, and I replied, "My mother."


The fíre in his eyes dimmed slightly, calming me down in the realisation that I wouldn’t wake up tomorrow to find out my mother had met an unfortunate énd because of Dominic. She might be a thorn in my side, but she was my thorn, my mother.


And I loved her, even if I would never admit it aloud.


"Why? What happened?"


"I missed school."


"You didn’t tell her?"


"Tell her what?" I scoffed or chuckled; I wasn’t quite sure. "That I got kidnappéd? Please, she wouldn’t believe it for a second."


"So, it’s my fault you got slapped?"


"What? No." I shook my head in denial. "You did nothing wrong. Can we please not talk about it?"


Dominic's eyes roamed over my face, really focusing on my bruised cheek before he let out a resigned sigh. "Alright, if that’s what you want."


"It is." 


"Alright." He nodded, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before tucking the stray strands of hair that the wind kept blowing about behind my ear with a gentle smile. His hands dropped from my face, and he asked, "So, what are we doing here?"


My feelings for him seemed to grow more intense with each passing day spent in his company. The little moments of shared smiles, conversations, or those comfortable silences meant everything to me while I contemplated how to express my feelings.


I chuckled. "I know what I’m doing. What about you?"


"Oh, I know what I’m doing here as well."


"And what is that?"


"Whatever you’re doing."


I playfully nudged his stomach with my elbow, a hearty laugh escaping me. Dominic's eyes found mine, an intense emotion swirling within them, the same one I’d seen earlier today when he discovered me. My laughter slowly faded.


"What? Do I have something on my face other than the bruise?" I teased, tilting my head to give him a better view. When he said nothing and continued to stare, I added, "You’re giving me a rather peculiar look."


"What peculiar look?" he replied, sounding alarmed.


"I don’t know," I admitted, as I truly had no idea how to explain the emotion I’d glimpsed in his eyes moments ago. "But I like it. I like that it’s directed at me, and no one else."


That evening, Dominic and I remained together, my head resting on his shoulder as we watched the sun dip below the horizon. We didn’t rush off; instead, we stayed and chatted through the night until the stars began to adorn the sky.


When I finally laid my head on my pillow after an hour-long video call with him, his presence filled my thoughts again—not as an imagination but as a memory I’d treasure forever.


Because this afternoon, Dominic had cried, believing he’d lost me. He even confessed that he was frightened of losing me. The Dominic Morozov, the Russian bràtva Don, shed tears for the first time in years, and it happened while he was in my arms. 


That alone provided ample proof for me to conclude that I wasn’t the only one navigating this love affair. In fact, I was seventy percent certain that he loved me. All I needed now was to coax him into saying it himself.


That should be easy, shouldn’t it?


TBC


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