INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 113
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Genevieve ~
A jolt shot down my spine as the door slammed shut behind Rory—fury radiating off her like a heatwave. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry.
And honestly? I’m with her on this.
“Are you going to walk out on me as well?” I turned back to Dominic, who looked utterly dishevelled—so far removed from his usual collected self it was almost jarring. “Could you…” he exhaled, the weight of the day clinging to his words, “please not slam the door on your way out? My head’s splitting and—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I cut in, then hesitated before adding, “Well, not yet anyway.”
I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. My fingers found his, and I laced them together, surprised by how much I liked the feeling of his skin against mine.
“She’s right, you know—about Blade. About the fact that he wouldn’t betray you. Or the Bràtva.”
“But—”
I squeezed his hand—hard enough that he winced—and gave him a look that stopped his argument mid-air. His gaze met mine, almost amused, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “Will you just let me finish?”
He fell silent, and I took that as permission. Swallowing, I mentally rearranged the words in my head before speaking, wanting them to actually land.
“Dominic, it’s Blade. He just… he can’t be the one. He’s loyal—to you, to the—what’s the word?” I tilted my head, searching for the right phrasing as his other hand settled on my hip, pulling me in gently. “Organisation?” I echoed, earning the softest chuckle from him. I smiled faintly before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is, he wouldn’t risk it. Not you. Not the Bràtva.”
“And why do you trust him so much?”
“The same reason you made him head of security for your sister.”
“Trust can be betrayed.”
The words left my mouth before I could stop them. “You’d know that firsthand, wouldn’t you?”
I regretted it the second it slipped out—and the look that twisted his face only deepened that regret.
Dominic scoffed. “Yes.” He pulled his hand away and dragged his fingers through the fringe falling over his eyes. “The person I trusted with my life—my sister’s life—turned out to be the one who took my parents from me. So, yes, I know what betrayal feels like. Intimately.” His voice was like steel wrapped in exhaustion. “And forgive me if I’m not keen on feeling it again.”
“It was a—”
“A slip of the tongue? A mistake?” His voice cut through mine, sharp and clipped.
He wasn’t shouting, but it blóody felt like he was.
“Don’t take that tone with me.”
I loàthe being spoken to like that.
“What tone?”
“That tone,” I snapped, louder now, anger finally bubbling to the surface. I stepped back, the space between us suddenly necessary—like oxygen. “You know what? I can’t do this. I’m going home.”
“Wait.”
His voice was softer now, lower. But I wasn’t listening. I busied myself with my handbag, gathering my things as fast as my trembling hands would allow, and made for the door.
“Wait.”
He said it again, firmer this time, as I reached the front door. I ignored him still.
“Please.”
The word stopped me cold—not just the sound of it, but the thud of his palm slapping the door shut just as I reached for the handle. He was behind me now, and I could feel the heat of his body, the tension in the air.
“Baby?” His voice was gravelled, cracking under something heavy. That single word slithered under my skin. “Baby, I’m sorry.”
I didn’t move. My hand still gripped the doorknob, knuckles white with restraint.
“Really. I am.” His breath ghosted over my neck, his voice so close it sent a shiver skating down my spine. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s not your fault I’m in this foul mood. You’re not Blade—”
That did it.
I spun around so fast it startled him, my glare sharp enough to cut glass. “For the millionth time, it’s not Blade,” I snapped, fire lacing every word. “Blame him again, and I swear I’ll leave.”
Dominic flinched like I’d struck him, his mouth parting around a sharp breath. “You’re still defending him.”
“Because he’s done nothing wrong,” I bit back. “You’re accusing someone who’s been nothing but loyal—”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you do?” I demanded, stepping closer, heat rising to my cheeks. “Dominic, listen to yourself. You’re letting your past bleed into everything. Not everyone is out to betray you.”
His laugh was hollow, bitter. “You’re naïve if you think loyalty means safety.”
“I’m not naïve,” I snapped. “I just haven’t let paranoia rot me from the inside out.”
That hit something. His gaze hardened, but I didn’t back down. Not this time.
“Blade has stood by your side longer than most of the people you do trust,” I said, my voice trembling with something more than anger—something desperate. “He’s been there for your sister. For you. And you’re ready to throw that away because what—some rumour? Some whisper in the dark that fits a convenient narrative?”
“You don’t understand what’s at stake—”
“Then f+cking enlighten me!” I shouted. “Instead of pushing everyone away the second they challenge you.”
A beat passed. His throat bobbed with a swallow, and for a second, he looked genuinely lost.
“I can’t afford to be wrong,” he said finally, voice strained. “If I’m wrong about Blade, and he is the leak—then everything I’ve built, everyone I’m protecting—” he paused, eyes flicking to mine— “you—and Rory—it all falls apart.”
“And if you’re wrong about him being guilty?” I whispered. “What then? You lose someone who would’ve taken a búllet for you. You push away people who actually care.”
Silence pulsed between us.
Then his voice cracked. “I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“Start with me,” I said gently, stepping into his space again. “Let me help you find the truth instead of burning every bridge on your way to it.”
Dominic didn’t say anything straight away.
He just stared at me.
As though trying to see beneath the skin, beneath the rage and words and defiance—to the part of me that refused to give up on him.
And then, very softly, he nodded. Not much. Just enough.
“You want to help me find the truth?” he asked, voice rough. “Fine. But if it is him…”
“It’s not.”
“If, Genevieve—”
I held his gaze. “Then we deal with it. But we don’t tear him down based on fear.”
He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his already-ruined hair. “God, my head is killing me.”
“Because you’re exhausting yourself fighting the wrong battles,” I muttered, but not unkindly.
That actually made him huff a laugh—barely, but it was there. I took it as a win.
I turned away to grab my phone, heart still thudding. “Do you have any proof? Anything specific that made you think Blade might be the leak?”
“Not proof. Just… gaps. And he’s been off lately—agitated, distracted.”
“Which you’ve apparently decided equals treason.” I shot him a look over my shoulder. “People are allowed to have bad weeks.”
“Not in this world,” he said darkly.
I didn’t answer that. I couldn’t.
“Wait,” I said, breaking the heavy silence. “You haven’t done anything to him, have you?”
“Well, not yet,” Dominic replied with a casual shrug.
“And where is he now?”
“At the Base.” Whatever look passed across my face must’ve betrayed my doubt, because he added, “I’m serious. They’re keeping an eye on him.”
“And this Mike—do you have eyes on him too?”
“He’s locked up.”
“Hm.”
Who would’ve thought I’d ever reach a point in life where conversations like this felt no different to talking about the weather? Definitely not me.
“Besides the people at the Base,” I said, voice steadying. “Who else is on your list of suspects?”
“I wish I knew. Everything’s been going fine—I was daft enough to think my enemies had given up.” He let out a frustrated hiss and ran a hand through his hair. “Turns out, they were just waiting. Waiting for the perfect bloody moment to strike.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. My thoughts scrambled for anything remotely comforting, but nothing came. So I simply sighed, hopeless and hollow. I felt useless, like I was drowning in a sea I had no way of crossing—utterly incapable of helping the one person who meant the world to me.
One moment I was revelling in the fact that Dominic was mine again, and the next, we were knee-deep in chàos. And though it made no sense, some irrational part of me blamed myself.
“Have you eaten?” I asked softly. It was a pathetic attempt to break the tension, but somehow it worked. He shook his head.
“You should eat something,” I pressed, reaching for some semblance of normality. “I’m sure Echo will find something soon.”
God, I hope I’m right.
Dominic didn’t look remotely interested in food, but he was far too exhausted to argue. So, he gave a tired nod of agreement.
••
I didn’t go home tonight. Couldn’t.
He needed me here. He wouldn’t say it—he never does—but it clung to his silence like static. So I stayed. For him. While we waited for Echo to return with answers we both desperately needed.
It was somewhere around half one in the morning when the shrill ring of Dominic’s phone tore through the quiet, jerking me from my half-sleep.
I didn’t need divine intervention to know who it was.
Dominic reached for the phone—he was closer, and far more desperate for answers. His movements were sharp despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his body. He answered without hesitation, voice low and hard-edged.
«Что ты узнала?» What did you find out?
I sat up slowly, blanket slipping from my shoulders as the chill in the room found me. My gaze stayed fixed on him. I couldn’t hear Echo’s response—he hadn’t put her on speaker—but something in the way his body stilled, in the subtle tic of his jaw, told me it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
«А Блэйд?» And Blade? he asked, sharper this time.
There was a pause. I could see it—whatever she said next didn’t sit well.
His voice dropped an octave, quieter but far more dangerous. «Что это?» What is it?
The silence between her answer and his reaction was the longest three seconds of my life. His expression darkened like thunderclouds rolling in over still water. The grip he had on the phone tightened, knuckles whitening.
I’d never seen him look like this before—utterly lethal, like the Dominic that existed in whispered thréats and underground power plays.
The call ended with a curt swipe of his thumb. He turned slowly, the weight of the news still clinging to him like smoke.
“Blade knows something,” he said, low and bitter. “And he won’t say a word.”
TBC📖✍️
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