INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 114
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Genevieve ~
Blade knows something, and he won’t say a word.
The thought’s been playing on a loop in my mind for the past two minutes, a mantra of dread that refuses to stop.
Silence swallowed the room whole—heavy, suffocating, thick as poison in the air. It hung between us, oppressive and overbearing. I felt a whirlwind of emotion inside me—doubt, betrayal, but also a persistent thread of belief.
Because Blade wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
…Right?
While I was spiralling, Dominic held my gaze. His amber eyes locked on mine, silent but blisteringly loud with I told you so.
“I still don’t believe Blade would do something like that,” I said quietly, though the whisper of doubt curled itself tightly around my ribs. “He just… he can’t.”
“We’ll see, won’t we.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, his slipped making that calm, deliberate sound against the floor as he closed the distance between us, “tomorrow, I head down to the Base—and I make him talk.”
Dread bloomed in my chest, fast and sickly. Dread for Blade. I shouldn’t feel it—not when he might be the traitor. But I did. The wà r inside me between trust and suspicion was ferocious, and neither side was giving an inch.
“How exactly are you going to get him to talk?”
A stúpid question, really. I knew better. But it slipped out anyway.
Dominic’s lips twitched—barely. “Whichever way he responds to, darling.”
A chill snaked down my spine. Goosebumps ghosted across my skin, prickling like static. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it.
Like a vow.
And it did nothing to soothe the panic rising like a tide inside me. If anything, it made it worse.
★★★★
The following morning, he was gone.
I woke to silence. The kind that echoes, that gnaws. The spot beside me was cold, the warmth of his body now just a memory pressed into the sheets.
It hit harder than I’d expected. He didn’t even say goodbye.
A coffee sat on the table—long since gone cold—and next to it, a note, scribbled in that unmistakably impatient scrawl of his.
He won’t speak unless I’m there. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.
But I did worry. Of course I did.
••
The Base wasn’t built for comfort, but the people inside it had always made it feel like home. At least, that used to be true. Today, though? Today, it felt like a stranger’s skin—tight and wrong and unfamiliar.
The air was sharp, the atmosphere brittle, and the fluorescents overhead buzzed like something out of a horror film. Paranoia buzzed in every corner. Even the silence had teeth.
Everyone looked tense. No idle chatter. No quiet jokes. Not even from Sal, who always had something sarcastic to say.
I didn’t speak either.
My boots echoed as I walked, sharp taps against the concrete, every step too loud. A red light blinked above—a camera. Watching. Always watching.
And then I saw him—Dexter.
“He’s in there?” I asked quietly as I approached.
He jumped slightly, startled, then nodded, his expression heavy. Something twisted in my gut—anxiety or grief or both. Because if Blade really had betrayed us…
“He told me not to help,” Dex murmured. “Said I should stay back.”
I gave a faint smile. “Well, he didn’t say anything about me, did he?”
I pushed the door open.
Blade sat chained to the chair, locked in place like some rabid dog. His lip was cracked, a deep bruise flowering beneath one eye. But the arrogant smirk on his face remained stubbornly intact.
Dominic stood over him, hands braced on the table, shoulders taut with silent aggression. He looked like a thunderstorm waiting to break—powerful, inevitable.
“You’ve been quiet,” Dominic said, voice low and sharp as a scalpel. “Why?”
Blade smirked wider. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking. Ever thought of that?”
Dominic’s face didn’t move—but the air did. It turned frigid in an instant. I stood by the wall, heart hammmering, every nerve on edge.
“I’m not in the mood for games,” Dominic said. “You know something—and you will tell me. One way or another.”
Blade leaned forward, the metal of his chains scraping against the chair. “And if I don’t?”
Dominic’s voice was ice. “Then I’ll make you.”
It wasn’t a thréat. It wasn’t even crúel. It was just true. Cold and clean as a búllet.
For the first time, something flickered in Blade’s eyes. Brief. Almost imperceptible.
But I saw it.
Did Dominic?
There was a pause—long and tense.
Then, Blade muttered, “He said you’re weak. Said the Bratva shouldn’t be led by someone like you. They’re coming.”
Dominic tilted his head, deà dly calm. “Who’s he?”
Blade’s jaw locked tight.
“Who?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Blade spat. “It’s already begun.”
That’s when Dominic struck. The púnch was swift, brútal, efficient. It crackéd across Blade’s face, jerking the chair back even against the chains.
I flinched. But I didn’t stop him. I knew better.
Dominic stood over him, chest rising and falling with barely restrained fúry. “You’re going to tell me everything,” he said, voice pure steel. “Or I’ll find out without your help. And when I do… you’ll wish you’d spoken.”
Blade’s bloodiéd grin returned. But it was hollow now. Strained. Desperate. “You’re already too late.”
TBC📖✍️
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