INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 9
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Genevieve ~
Thursdays, I can't stand them.
And no, I don’t go about despisÃng every day of the week; it’s simply school and people that I loà the.
Today is no exception, and it’s about to get considerably worse because I have mathematics in less than ten minutes.
Julianna abruptly halted, turning to face me as we ambled towards our next lesson—maths. "Stop doing that," she ordered with a frown. "You’re making it sound like you’ve been sentenced to life imprisonmént. Honestly, chill out; it’s only maths."
Exactly!
In my opinion, I believe the world could quite easily do without maths, at least until I finish school. It takes me hours to grasp a single formula, and I can’t fathom why letters have to be involved in the first place.
"You don’t understand." I muttered under my breath, sidestepping her as I made my way to my locker. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against her own locker, which, luckily, was right next to mine, and raised an eyebrow that clearly said ‘really?’. "Don’t give me that look."
"I’ll do whatever I like," she shot back playfully. "You, my friend, are the second smartest person I know, and I truly believe that if you give maths a proper chance, you’ll end up loving it."
I highly doubt that.
Wait, what did she call me?
Second?
How dare she?
I ought to be her first in everything, just as she is to me. Genevieve King is far too brilliant to be second.
"Who is the first?"
Her face turned quizzical as she tilted her head in confusion, as she often does. "Huh?"
"You said I’m the ‘second smartest person’ you know, so who’s the first?" I reiterated, certain she’d grasp it this time.
"Oh," she grinned widely. "Me, of course."
I’ll take that. She’s got to put herself first, and I’m glad she knows that.
"Hi, guys!" Both of our heads turned as that familiar voice called out from across the unnecessarily long corridor. My gaze landed on two people, holding hands like the lovesick fools they are, except only one of them is genuinely in love. "Hey, what are you up to today?" Sloane, Christian’s girlfriend of three years, chirped cheerily in her merry voice.
"Not great," I replied, shaking my head in dramatic disapproval. "I’ve got maths soon. You?"
"Don’t mind her. What’s your next class again?"
"Chemistry."
Too bad she doesn’t have it with her jérk of a boyfriend, but who am I to rúin their fun?
Shifting my gaze from Sloane to her boyfriend and our mutual friend, I asked, "And you?"
"AP English."
"Aww, you don’t have chemistry with Sloane?" I teased, a subtle smirk forming that only he noticed. I also caught the fleeting fear in his eyes before he swiftly masked it with the lovesick gaze of a puppy staring at his girlfriend. "Too cute."
Cute, my à rse.
After muttering that, I picked up the books I’d need for class before turning back to them. "Bye, I don’t want to be late."
"Yeah, sure. We’ll see you at lunch," Sloane said.
"Not sure, I’ve got reading to catch up on."
"You always have reading to catch up on." Both boyfriend and girlfriend chimed in unison, nearly damaging my eardrums.
And they weren’t satisfied with just that; they decided to cause damage to my eyes and make me nearly retch my breakfast by gazing at each other and blushing.
"You two are the cutest," Jules gushed, beaming at them.
"Yeah, they’re made for each other." The words that slipped from my mouth sounded completely truthful and innocent to normal ears; however, to a tosser’s ears, they must have sounded heavy. "I hope I’ll be invited to the wedding. Anyway, bye."
Since Julianna also had maths at the same period as me, she quickly bid them farewell and fell into step beside me.
Flipping her hair from her shoulder to her back, she dreamily said, looking as if she were in la-la land, "You know, I hope one day someone loves me the way Chris loves Sloane."
Oh, darling, don’t wish that upon yourself.
"Eww." The word slipped out before I could stop it, causing her to pause and shoót me a look. Without a hint of hesitation, I shrugged nonchalantly and added, "What? I hate Christian."
"Hate is a strong word," she replied in that scolding tone of hers as she pulled out her chair to sit down, since we were already in class.
I did the same, placing my books on the table while trying to ignore the students chatting loudly around us. Rolling my eyes in utter exasperation, I begrudgingly corrected myself, "Fine. I don’t hate him." After a moment's pause, I added, "But I don’t like him either."
"Genevieve," she groaned, throwing her head back with a sigh. "You're a handful."
"I’ll take that as a compliment."
Suddenly, one of the girls who had been in my class for three years, though I still hadn’t bothered to learn her name, stepped up in front of the class and announced, "Mr Wright is unwell, so he’ll be unavailable until further notice."
That is brilliant news!
Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who thought so, as the other students erupted into cheers as if they’d just won the lottery.
"That’s a shame," I heard Julianna murmur, her head down low.
"Quite the opposite, actually."
"Vie, that’s not a nice thing to say."
"Wasn’t intending to be."
"Genevieve?" An unfamiliar feminine voice made me lift my head from my Kindle after barely a few minutes. I raised an eyebrow at her as she approached with a box. "Here, it’s from someone."
Reluctantly, I took the box from her, my brow still furrowed in curiosity. "Who?" The girl simply shrugged. "Alright. Thanks."
"Who do you think it’s from?" Julianna’s voice chimed in, and I looked up from scanning the box to find her seated at her table, twisting her hair around her finger repeatedly. "Do you have any idea?"
Yes.
Inside the box were various chocolate bars, and I had two suspects. It could either be Adrianna or Dominic. I knew it couldn’t be my sister, as we hadn’t seen each other in days, leaving only Dominic as the likely candidate.
The more I thought about it, the clearer it became that he was responsible for the box resting on my lap. A beaming smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I could feel my cheeks warming.
I cleared my throat, as I felt that if I didn’t, my voice would come out sounding like a chipmunk due to the strange but delightful sensations bubbling within me. Fortunately, my voice didn’t betray my insides. "Erm, I don’t know."
"You’re lying."
That is what you get when you’ve been friends for years. They begin to know you far too well, and I both loathéd and loved it.
"No, I’m not," I attempted to argue, fully aware of my impending fà ilure.
"You are, too."
"No."
"Yes."
"I said I’m not lying."
"I said you’re lying," Julianna insisted firmly. "Come on, Vie, who is it from?"
She’s going to fréak.
I know that for certain.
"Don’t fréak out," I warned.
She scoffed, slightly annoyed. "I don’t fréak out."
She does, quite a bit.
But I kept that to myself and went straight to the point. "Dominic."
Even uttering his name sent a flutter of excitement through me that I couldn’t help but adore. I’d never felt this way about any other male, and good heavens, I adored everything about him.
I loved the dà nger that surrounded him. I loved the way he carried himself, the way he concealed his true identity from the world. His smile, whether genuine or calculated, made my heart skip a beat. I loved his personality.
You sound lovestruck.
Eww, no.
So, you don’t like him?
I do, but not in that way.
So, you don’t want him?
Of course, I do, and I will get him. Phase one is already in progress.
I glanced up at Julianna to find her face scrunched in confusion, looking visibly thoughtful. "Dominic? Which class is he in?" I shook my head slightly, placing the box on my desk to explain properly when she gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth. "Wait, don’t tell me it’s..."
"Yes," I nodded. "It’s Dominic Morozov."
"How? Why? When? Start talking."
"You see, the thing is, we’re friends." I nearly laughed at my own lie and hoped she didn't catch the snicker that slipped out. She did, and eyed me with suspicion. "What?"
Friends are the last thing I want to be to Dominic Morozov. Friends don’t envision their friend’s lips on theirs; friends don’t fantasise about having their friend breathless and gasping for air because of what I want to do to him. Friends don’t imagine their friends on top or underneath them. Do they?
Oh wait, Christian might. Now that I find myself in his position, I sort of understand him; the only thing that makes my case different from his is that Dominic actually feels the same way about me but is far too Dominic to admit it. Jules doesn’t see Christian that way at all.
"I don't believe you one bit, Genevieve. What’s going on with you and him?" Julianna said. "Do you know he’s, like, twenty years your senior?"
"Ten years," I quickly corrected. "And I’m not a child, Jules."
"You’re seventeen."
"Exactly, not a child."
"But you’re still a child."
"Everybody's a child to their parents; it’s hardly a big deal."
"Look, you don’t understand. There’s something about him that doesn’t sit right."
Now that’s a lie. Anyone, whether male or female, who takes one glance at Dominic Morozov knows he’s a remarkably good-looking man with everything you could ever want.
But I know she wasn’t talking about his physical appearance. I noticed it too, but that’s precisely why I’m drawn to him. Everything about him screams dà nger if you look a little deeper.
I don’t say anything, though. I simply give her a blank look, pretending not to know what she’s on about.
"Word of advice: don’t. Someone’s going to end up really hurt, and it won’t be him." The words echoed in my head like an additional warning, but I paid it no mind. "And isn’t chocolate so unoriginal? I know you, and you don’t like clichés."
Except this isn’t a cliché. This may just be ordinary chocolate, but she doesn’t know the giver; I do. I received this box of chocolates from a mà fia head.
He also cooked for me and will soon be utterly besotted with me.
"Give me a minute."
"You want to call him?" My best friend, who seemed to know me inside and out, gave me a knowing smile, and I shook my head in denial.
"No, I’m going to the loo."
"Yeah, to call him," she said. "I know."
"Nope." I denied it again, getting up from my seat. "You can have some if you fancy."
As I stepped into the loo, I released a sigh of relief when I saw no one around; however, just to be safe, I checked each of the stalls to see if anyone was occupying them.
Now relaxed that no one could be listening to my conversation, I rested against the sink as I tapped his contact.
The phone barely rang three times before he picked up. I smiled because it seemed he was waiting for my call.
"Hi." I spoke first since he refused to say anything.
His chuckle was the first thing I heard before he replied, "hi."
"Can I ask why I was given a box of chocolates?"
I can’t see him, but I know he’s probably shrugging nonchalantly as he responds. "You had it yesterday in my car and loved it, so I got you a new batch. How do you like it?"
Isn’t he adorable?
First, he cooks for me, and then he buys my second favourite thing in the world apart from books because he knows I have a sweet tooth.
"I haven’t tried them yet," I told him. "What are you doing right now?"
"Having a meeting in the conference room."
The surprise that surged through me had me turning to face the mirror in utter shock.
A meeting?
Is he supposed to pick up my call during a meeting?
I don’t think that’s allowed.
Think? No, I know for a fact it’s not allowed; in fact, it’s prohibited for anyone to make or answer calls during a meeting.
So why did he answer mine?
"And you answered my call?" I wanted to smack myself for asking such a foolish question.
"We’re talking on the phone now, aren’t we?"
"Yeah, I know that," I hissed. "But isn’t it, like, rúde when someone does that?"
Dominic's soft hum drifted into my ear slowly. "Well, the last time I checked, I’m the CEO of this company."
Ah, that makes sense.
I was still trying to shake off the surprise when he added, "Come over today."
"Is that an order?"
"No."
"Then use the right words, Dominic," I said.
"Please, can you come over?"
"You know, if I didn't know better, I’d say you adore my presence."
"Adore is a strong word, don’t you think?" His voice, husky and deep as usual, brought yet another smile to my face. I turned into a happy fóol whenever I was with or talking to him.
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me, and replied, "Nope."
"Hmm, I see." He drawled out. "So, is it a yes or a no?"
"Guess."
"Vixen." His voice lowered as he warned me.
"Fine. I will."
"Good girl. Bye."
Good girl?
That sounds much s+xÃer to hear than to read in the books I consume.
"Bye."
••
Evening came swiftly, and by swiftly, I mean I had to endure the remaining classes of the day before I was finally in my car, driving to Dominic.
As usual, I was granted free passage through the doors of his company without so much as a question. However, instead of heading straight to his office when I reached his floor, I paused to chat with Cassidy, his secretary.
"Hey, how’s your day going?" I asked, leaning towards her with my elbows resting on her high desk. "You look knackered."
It wasn’t a lie; she actually looked exhausted.
"I’m fine. It’s just that a bÃ+ch..." She stopped but continued almost immediately. "A lady is in there with Sir."
A lady?
His mother is deceased, so it can’t be her. When I looked him up, I didn’t see that he had any sisters, so it can’t be that either.
Cassidy, upon seeing that I was racking my brain trying to figure out who it could be, quickly added, "She’s an actress; you might know her."
An actress?
Does she mean...
Is the lady in his office one of the women he’s had s+x with?
Why did he let her in?
Are they having s+x right now?
He had better not.
Giving Cassidy a quick smile, I marched towards the door, and when I reached it, I opened it and stepped inside. My eyes instantly landed on the lady in question, and she had her hands on his chest.
His suit.
It’s the same thing!
Suppressing my angér, I tried to stop my eyes from glaring at her and, quite frankly, I’d cut off her stúpid hands if she didn’t let go of him. I looked between them and asked, "Am I interrupting something?"
Dominic shifted his gaze from me to the lady and stepped back, dragging her hands down his suit since she refused to let go. "No, she was just leaving."
"Who is she, Dominic?" She had the audacity to ask him, looking at him as if he’d betrayed her or something.
Dominic's disinterested look didn’t seem to faze her at all; she appeared used to it. "None of your business. Leave."
"No."
"It won’t be nice for you if I have to repeat myself." That was all he had to say with darkened eyes for her to stagger back.
Her eyes met mine, and she glared hard at me. I didn’t respond because I was too busy staring at Dominic to pay her any attention.
The lady, whose name I didn’t know, picked up her bag and stormed out. As soon as the door shut, Dominic breathed out a sigh of relief, his head thrown back in exhaustion.
A normal person would ask who she was, but normal is overrated, and I had no interest in knowing her name. So, I sat down, boring into Dominic with inquisitive eyes. "What was she doing here?"
Dominic moved around to his seat, taking his sweet time to answer my question, and I even began to think he wouldn’t until he said, "Um, she’s trying to get my attention."
I don’t blame her for wanting Dominic Morozov. Every woman in her right mind knows he’s one of a kind. They know there’s only one Dominic Morozov in the whole world, so they obviously want him for themselves.
But he’s currently unavailable because I want him. When the fun fades and I don’t want him anymore, they can have him. Until then, absolutely not!
"And why aren’t you giving it to her?"
"I didn't expect you to be someone who asks unnecessary questions."
I snickered, crossing my legs as I leaned back against the seat. "Always keen to have the last word, are you?" A few strands of hair blew across my face, and I brushed them behind my ear. "Hmm, so?"
Dominic mirrored my posture. The only difference was that his stance radiated a manly confidence that could intimidate anyone, while mine aimed to elicit that fleeting spark of desire in his eyes. He swallowed, a slight movement of his throat. "I suppose you could say I'm not interested."
Not interested in an incredibly attractive woman who had just been touching him and leaning in mere moments ago is only because he's interested in me.
You're being delusioñal.
No, I’m not. That look wasn’t in his eyes when he was with her.
That doesn’t mean he wants you.
Except he does. His mouth may conceal it, but his eyes and body certainly do not.
"And who, may I ask, are you interested in?" I probed, genuinely curious, fully aware he wouldn't utter my name.
He confirmed my suspicions with a laugh, shaking his head. "You and your accent."
Scoffing, and hoping it was visibly annoying, I rolled my eyes. "Nice way to change the subject, Dominic."
His laughter echoed through the walls of his office, and I failed to suppress a smile at his handsome face.
That was when an idea struck me, and I unhesitatingly put it into action. "By the way, I can't keep coming here. I don’t want people to start talking."
I wasn’t the least bit bothered about what people might say. People are always talking, regardless of whether you do anything, so let them chatter to their heart's content.
His brow arched mockingly as he grinned. "I thought you didn’t care about what people say."
"I don’t," I replied truthfully. "But I do care about what my mother thinks." My lie was starting to make sense and didn’t feel like a mischievous notion anymore. "I wouldn’t want any words reaching her; that would be dreà dful."
I watched as Dominic's expression shifted from teasing to serious in an instant. "Does that mean we won’t see each other again?"
"Looks like it," I told him, relishing the vulnerability he was trying so hard to conceal from me. "We can still chat and text, though."
"That isn’t enough," he said, and I couldn’t help but grin at his admission. His lovely amber eyes turned inquisitive as he regarded me. "What?"
Trying to stifle my grin, which was threatening to erupt into full-blown laughter, I shook my head slightly. "Nothing."
His eyes scrutinised me for a few moments before he knocked the breath from my lungs by saying, "We can meet up at my house."
"What?"
It was either the two earbuds I used almost every time that had finally ruined my hearing or he had actually just said that.
Yes, I had been to his house before, but this was a whole new level. He knew it, I knew it; we both knew it.
"You heard me."
"No, not really."
"I said, we can meet up at my house." He repeated himself, and lo and behold, I had heard correctly. "You’ll go straight there instead of coming here, and I’ll come and meet you over there. Does that sound good?"
Steeling myself not to overreact like a giddy schoolgirl, I simply nodded. "Sure. That way, no one has to know that Genevieve King is visiting Dominic Morozov almost every day because he adores her company."
"I do not."
"That's precisely what I said."
TBC📖✍️
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