INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 55
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Genevieve ~
My day was going well until it wasn't.
Today is a Friday, and since school finished early, I decided to pop in and see my sister at her office. Adrianna was no doubt busy when I arrived, but I wouldn't be Genevieve King if I weren't the master of persuasion.
"Genny, no." She insisted after several of my pleas, not even sparing me a glance as her gaze flitted from her computer to the iPad on her desk. "I have a lot on my plate, and eating out isn’t going to... fit into my schedule."
"When did you last eat today?"
"In the morning."
"What did you have?"
She hesitated before responding. "Coffee and a blueberry muffin."
I don't understand why people around me neglect breakfast. What will it take for them to realise how important it is for their bodies?
The sigh that escaped my lips might have been a touch too dramatic, but it made her look up at me and let out a sigh of her own at my expression. "Don’t make that face, Genevieve. I am busy, you know this."
"Okay, and? That doesn’t mean you can’t have a proper breakfast! How many minutes will it take out of your schedule?"
"A lot, actually." Her voice was soft and weary. "My schedule is jam-packed these days, and I’m doing everything I can to clear it."
She is never going to clear it. My sister is the CEO of the most profitable real estate company in the whole of the United Kingdom. Adrianna King isn’t just recognised for her last name, but for her brilliant designs for the houses she builds and sells. And that’s one of the many reasons I am proud to be her sister.
"Let’s eat." I said, moving closer to her side. "Twenty minutes and you can get back to work."
Adrianna shook her head, returning her gaze to the screen of her computer as her fingers tapped busily on the keyboard, her eyes darting here and there, and I feared her eyeballs might pop out. Her blonde hair was neatly arranged in a bun, with not a single strand out of place.
It’s rather irritating how well put together she always is. She is a carbon copy of our mother in the elegance they both exude. I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything different from the first daughter of Mariah King. They are practically twins at this point, but one will forever remain a puppet if she doesn’t speak up.
Everett and I are the 'rebels', apparently, and I couldn’t care less about that label. In fact, I rather enjoy it because, honestly, it suits me.
I let my lips pucker into a sad pout, then pinched her cheeks and turned her head to face me, before murmuring softly, "Is twenty minutes really too much to ask of your little sister?"
Her similarly blue eyes dimmed further, sadness and fatigue swirling in her gaze. "Don’t say it like that. I am..." Adrianna exhaled heavily, clearly exhausted. She looked up at the ceiling, a soft groan escaping her lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Twenty minutes?"
"Yes." I replied earnestly.
I just miss my elder sister. It has been so long since we saw each other, and the sleepover we planned to have to make up for it was disrupted by the formidable Mariah King.
Remembering the carefree times Adrianna and I used to have is painful, so I do my best to lock those happy moments away in a corner of my heart, knowing a time like that wouldn’t come again... unless she stops being puppeteered.
"Promise?"
I nodded. "Pinky promise."
••
Adrianna and I found ourselves seated at a restaurant that only accepts reservations, and before you can secure one, it is rumoured to take weeks or even months. I have no idea if that’s true since the doors are always open to us, the Kings.
I guess that’s the prestige advantage of having such a strong, capable, and well-regarded surname. I suppose Maggot was right when she said the King name is a luxury ticket.
Hmm, whatever. All that mattered at that moment was that I was seated, facing my beloved sister as we ate and chatted about everything we had missed in each other's lives.
Of course, I didn’t mention Dominic Morozov because I already knew her reaction wouldn’t be... How should I put it? Adrianna would simply go bónkers.
Anyway, we talked, laughed, teased, and joked with each other about almost everything under the sun. However, it came to an abrupt stop when her phone rang in her bag.
The panic that instantly flooded her expression, which had been filled with relaxed bliss, frightened me, so I reached out to grab her hand, I suppose to assure her that it was nothing bad.
From the look on her face when she retrieved the phone, it definitely was something bad. I knew it before she said, "It's Mother."
I shook my head, wordlessly telling her not to pick up, but she did. With the phone against her ear, I watched her face fall bit by bit with each passing second, all because of a call.
That's the awful effect Mariah King has on her own daughters. And yes, we are her biological children. I know that because I once checked to confirm.
✷✷✷✷
"What's wrong with you?!" Her voice vibrated in every corner of her office as soon as Adrianna and I stepped into it. "Do you have any idea how much loss you've secured by not attending the meeting, Adrianna?!"
She's shouting. My mother, Mariah King, is actually raising her voice for the first time. This is so strange, and even though this is my first time hearing it, I already despise it and want it to stop.
Adrianna swallowed, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of her own mother. Her hands even trembled as she tucked the blonde strands of hair behind her ear. "I am sorry."
"Sorry?!"
Or maybe she has always been yelling like this at Adrianna, and I had no idea about it. Is this what she goes through every day at the hands of her mother?
Mariah King sprang to her feet. That single move terrified my sister so much that she let her fingers dig deep into her skin, definitely hurtiñg herself. I was almost ready to say something, but she shook her head at me.
A mocking laugh filled the tense air in the office, and it was no surprise who it was from. Our mother then scoffed, "You're sorry?! What on earth will your being sorry do?!"
Okay, that's it.
"Can you stop yelling for one second? You're giving me a headache." The words were out of my mouth before I could properly phrase it, and it might have earned me a vexed glare. A heated one, for that matter. Nonetheless, I forced an obviously fake smile on my face and continued, "Can we at least have a drink of water? We drove here as fast as we could because of your call."
"Why are you here, Genevieve?"
What? Didn't she notice me enter with Adrianna a few minutes ago?
Realisation then dawned on her face, and she laughed once again, this time walking towards us. "You're the one, aren't you? You distracted her, didn't you?" My sister shook her head, about to say something, when a glare shut her up. "Was I talking to you? What have I said about talking when you’re not called upon?"
"I am sorry."
I swear, my eyes rolled on their own at the insané drama unfolding right in front of me. Before I had the chance to swallow it, an annoyed scoff escaped my mouth.
"Have something to say, Genevieve?" my mother asked.
"Yes." I replied. "Since we got here, all you've done is scream. Can't you talk like a normal human being? Why do you have to yell? We will still hear you if you speak softly, you know?"
"Genny."
My head snapped to my sister, and this time, I rolled my eyes myself. "What? Do you like her yelling? Because I, for one, don't like it." I then faced my mother. "How much did she lose in the meeting that is making you go on and on, yapping like an estranged parrot?"
Mariah's hand rose to hit me, and I shut my eyes tightly, preparing for the paiñful impact; it never came. The sound of the slap, however, reached my ears, causing me to fling open my eyes.
Adrianna took it. She got slapped because of me.
"Mother, she didn't mean that. You know how she likes to joke around. Genny, tell her that you are sorry."
I chuckled because I almost thought I misheard her, but knowing my all-righteous sister, I knew I hadn't misheard anything. She actually wants me to apologise for defending her?! No, I am not going to do that.
"I am not sorry," I said. "I am not in the least bit sorry, and I still stand my ground that you're yelling far too much." Running my fingers through my hair to push it away from my face, I continued, "You called your daughter here, and you didn't even let her sit before bombarding her with inquiries. You didn't ask her if she’s doing alright, and you just slappéd her."
My mother peered up at me, locking our gazes together. Her fury was still present, but now it was deadly calm. "You are right. I called Adrianna here, didn’t offer her a seat or ask about her welfare, and I slappéd her. Would you like to know the reason why?" Mariah King took an intimidating step forward, causing me to take one back. "Your sister lost a million-pound deal, and do you want to know who's at fault? It's you."
"I..."
"Be quiet, Genevieve. I am not done talking." She shunned me down as if I were one of her inferiors and not her daughter. "If you had just stayed away, she would have gone and secured that deal. Why can’t you ever do the right thing?"
That last statement slashed at my heart like a sword penetrating my body. But as usual, I didn't let it show on my face the immense ache she had just caused me; instead, I smiled so wide it literally húrt.
Upon seeing my reaction, a frown immediately appeared on her face, and then she shook her head in disappointment. "See? This is what I am talking about. I am trying to tell you something, and you're grinning. What’s so funny about what I am saying? Have I suddenly become a clown to you?"
Still hurt, I shrugged nonchalantly as if saying yes to her question, which was a wrong move because more rage filled her gaze.
"God, I don’t know what I will do with you..."
"Mother..." Adrianna started to plead on my behalf, but when Mariah snapped her head towards her, she clamped her mouth shut. Discomfort was evident in her eyes as she fidgeted with her fingers. "Let her be, please."
"Let her be? The more I keep letting her be, the more she gets spoÃled rotteñ. I don’t know why I gave her so much freedom, and this is where it has landed us, me especially." Her voice boomed like a speaker with that eerily calmness in her tone. "You... you are a mess."
A mess?
The strong heart I had always praised myself for having broke. It scattered into a thousand pieces at her words that I knew would keep coming, and she proved me right by continuing her emotional abúse.
"Why did you even go over to Adrianna's? If only you had stayed wherever place you frolic about, we wouldn’t be here right now. Adrianna would have the million-pound contract, but no, you just had to be Genevieve and ruÃn it, didn’t you?"
What’s that supposed to mean?
I ruiñ things? Has she always felt this way about me?
"Why can’t you be more like your sister? Why are you like this, Genevieve? Why have you chosen to bring only trouble to the King reputation? When are you going to be better than this mess you are right now?"
That did it. I blinked away the unshed tears, staring speechless at the mother I thought would change, given how she behaved a few days ago; however, the more I stared, the more I scattered.
I scoffed or chuckled or something in between, then flicked my gaze to my sister, Adrianna, who could never bring herself to argue with our mother. Everett would, and now more than ever, I missed him.
..
Frustration surged through my entire body as I continued to glare at my car as if the glares would make it start working again. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
A handful of moments ago, I was driving down the road, pissed and annoyed at my mother once again, and now, I am here in the middle of somewhere I’ve forgotten the name of, stranded because it’s so late in the night.
"Why can’t you be more like your sister? Why are you like this, Genevieve? Why have you chosen to bring only trouble to the King reputation? When are you going to be better than this mess you are right now?"
Those chronicà lly dréadful words apparently mistook my frustration for a cue to echo in my head, frustrating me even more. My head hurts, my car broke down, and it looks like it’s going to rain any minute now.
Can the night get any worse?
It clearly wasn't up for debate because as soon as I thought that, the sky opened up above me, instantly soaking me from head to toe as if mocking my state. Before I knew what was happening, I had already lowered myself into a crouching position, my back against the desk with my head bowed.
It húrts. Everything húrts. It húrts to be constantly compared to your own sister. It húrts to feel like you're not loved by your own parents. It húrts to feel the need to escape the place you call home instead of running to it for comfort. It húrts to be Genevieve King right now.
I wish everything was different. I wish I had never been bórn. I'd give anything and everything nót to be Mariah King and Kyle Walker's daughter right now. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and my life wouldn’t be my life. Yes, I know that I am privileged to be born into such a wealthy family, but I don't feel like it anymore.
Why, just why do I have to be repeatedly compared to Adrianna? It’s as if she has developed a habit of always—and I mean always—húrting me with her words since the moment I was born. Why is it so hard to see that I want nothing like Adrianna's life?
Is it so difficult for a mother who carried her child in her womb for nine months and gave birth to said child to look at her daughter and not truly see her? Not just the external appearance, but who the daughter really is?
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, but they were nothing compared to the furious downpour that completely drenched me. My favourite thing about the rain—the thunder—rumbled in the sky, but I was too torn apart to be fascinated by its wild beauty tonight.
I... I just... I want a moment of peace that wouldn't last a day or two before my so-called mother starts her issues again. Is it too much to ask?
Is it?!
Not a single day in my life has passed when I haven't wished my mother wasn’t Mariah King, or wished that my grandfather had never become a Duke. I remember hatiñg my life so much that I occupied my mind with reading, and that’s where my hobby began. However, it wasn’t enough to quell the ache, nor did it impress her.
Even after I joined every single sport she wanted me to participate in, it still wasn’t enough to earn her love. And now, I am tired of trying. I give up on Mariah King and waiting for her to realise that she isn’t a good mother to any of us.
Everett never held his tongue when it came to telling her his mind. He even refused to take her last name, which resulted in her being furious. Adrianna, on the other hand, is her favourite child who never makes mistakes and even if she does, she can be puppeteered. I am certain I am the least favourite child.
I am everything she doesn’t like and is strongly against. Maybe she even hétes me. That isn’t impossible, is it?
"Vixen?"
At the sound of that soothing, familiar voice, I slowly raised my head, my eyes scanning him from bottom to top. As soon as our gazes collided, I let out a shaky breath at the same time Dominic crouched down to my level, opening his arms wide.
More tears streamed from my eyes, but they were hidden by the ongoing downpour that was growing increasingly wild. Throwing myself into his arms, knowing full well he would catch me, I wrapped my arms around him and simply sobbed profusely in his embrace.
Dominic said nothing but held the back of my head, burying my face into his chest. By now, rain had completely soaked him too as he continued to calm me down with his warm hug.
I sniffled. "W-what..." Another sniffle. "Are you doing here?"
"I couldn't reach you, so I tracked you down."
"That's a bit stalkérish behaviour, Dominic."
Dominic laughed and pulled back, his amber eyes piercing into mine. "I am not a stà lker, Vixen. Come, let me take you home."
Panic overwhelmed me in an instant. "No." I replied sharply.
"I meant my house, not yours."
Dominic rose to his feet, picked me up in his arms, and carried me to his car, placing me in the passenger seat without a care that I was soaked through. He buckled me in before rounding to the driver’s side. He turned on the heater and zoomed off.
..
Another sigh escaped me as Dominic blow-dried my hair. His fingers felt so good against my scalp, causing my eyes to droop. It had been a full twenty minutes since we arrived, and he still hadn’t asked me anything about why I was crying.
I was wearing one of his hoodies, which smelled very much like him after a long, hot shower. My head ached from all the crying, and Dominic seemed to sense that without me needing to tell him.
He just keeps doing the right things and making me fall deeper in love with him. What a git.
Finally, he finished drying my hair and crouched down in front of me, meeting my gaze. His warm palm rested on my cheek, gently caressing it. My eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation that not only warmed my cheek but also my heart.
“What happened?” he asked. “Who made you cry?”
I can’t tell him. There was something in those eyes of his that spelled doóm for my mother when he learned about the slap, and that intensity was still there as he awaited my answer.
“No one.”
How foolish. I pursed my lips, embarrassed by my pathetic lie. He definitely didn’t buy it.
“Genevieve.” I whined at his stern voice. “Who húrt you? Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“And why is that?” Dominic inquired, his voice barely concealing the anger within him. A pause, then a knowing laugh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s your mother.”
“No,” I lied.
“I didn’t ask a question, though. So, your denial proves that I’m right. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m pathetÃc, and I still love her even after everything she does or says, alright? I’m a pathetÃc, worthless mess.” I snapped, angry tears starting to pour from my eyes again. “She hatés me, Dominic, and I don’t know why. Am... am I a mess, Dom?”
Dominic cupped my face in his hands. “You are.” I let out a broken sigh, my heart shattering further at his confirmation. “You are a hot mess. You, Genevieve King, are a beautiful, confident, and incredible mess. So yes, you’re a mess.”
A smile crept onto my face at his words, which I certainly wasn’t expecting. I nudged him, “You’re such a git.”
“I don’t think so. I reckon I’m a pretty amazing guy,” Dominic said, mirroring my smile. Then, he leaned in and placed a kiss on my eyelids. “And you... you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so please don’t let anyone tell you lies that could bring you to tears.”
Does he really feel that way? That... that I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him?
I nodded. “You’re right. I am pretty great, aren’t I?” I teased, which earned yet another smile from him.
“Yes, you’re great.”
Dominic tilted his head forward, his lips resting on my forehead, then on each side of my cheeks, and lastly, my jaw. His golden-brown eyes pierced through my own blue ones as we wordlessly stared at each other.
Then, I went and spoiled it all by saying something daft like, “I love you.”
TBC
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