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Insatiable Cravings - Episode 43

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INSATIABLE CRAVINGS

Insatiable Cravings - Episode 43

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 


★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★



~ Dominic ~


"You really think this is the right move?" Dexter’s rare moments of rationality were as infrequent as a blue moon, and today just happened to be one of those days. "Genevieve knowing about this place?"


"What’s the worst that could happen?" I brushed off his concern, though I could feel the same doubts gnawing at me from within.


"How about one of your rívals using her against you?" 


"I trust her," I said, my voice steady as I rounded my desk and took my seat. "She wouldn’t stop asking, so I decided to show her. No big deal."


"Except it is," he interjected sharply. "This is literally where we do all our work." 


"What's done is done. There's no turning back now."


Dexter let out an infuriating hum, the kind that suggested he knew something I didn’t, or was hinting at something lurking beneath the surface. I shot him a glare, and his lips twisted into a knowing smile.


"What?" 


"You like her, don’t you?" 


That was such a ridiculous question. 


With a reluctant nod, I replied, "Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have shown her this place."


He shook his head dismissively. "When I said you like her, I didn’t mean as friends. I meant, you love her."


Now that was preposterous. He wasn’t asking; he was asserting it with unshakeable certainty.


"No."


"Why do you keep refusing to acknowledge the painfully obvious truth?" 


"Because it’s not the truth; I don’t love Genevieve." Saying it sent a sharp pang through my heart, a feeling that echoed deep within me. "It’s impossible."


"For you to fall in love?"


"Yes."


"Are you saying this because she’s Kyle’s daughter, or are you just against love in general?" His questions were becoming increasingly infuriating with each passing second.


"I can’t love anyone like that, Dexter."


"Why not?" He insisted, proving yet again that he was utterly incapable of reading my body language. A groan escaped my lips as I rolled my eyes in frustration. "Why do you think you’re incapable of falling in love? It just doesn’t make sense."


"For one, love makes you weak. It clouds your judgment and leads to poor decision-making."


"Right." Dexter dragged out the word, a hint of understanding glimmering in his eyes, though I didn’t entirely believe it. "So you’d be perfectly fine with some other guy having her all to himself when you two are done with whatever undefined relationship you have?"


Jealousy and rage wrapped their icy fingers around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. 


The mere thought of some lóser touching her, kissing her before me had already invaded my mind, ruiniñg my mood more times than I could count. But the idea of some other guy getting the chance to have such a unique girl who I considered mine was even more infuriating.


I couldn’t even find the words to describe that feeling, but trust me when I say it burned like venóm coursing through my veins. The thought that another man could have her sent fúry simmering in my soul. 


"I’ll take that as a no." Dexter’s gaze met mine, his demeanor unshaken. "You look like you’re about to kíll someone."


"I just might if you keep talking."


He grinned, unfazed by my thréat. "You two are basically in a relationship without the label. Do you even realize how you look at her?"


Of course, I look at her like I see her—my ruinàtion that I can’t escape.


"Do you see the way she looks at you?" he pressed on, piquing my interest as I waited impatiently for him to answer. "Genevieve looks at you like you’re everything she ever wanted brought to life. Her entire face lights up whenever you’re near, and she can't stop smiling. Do you even know how many pictures of you she has on her phone?"


What? 


She takes pictures of me when I’m unaware? That was new information, and I didn’t quite know how to process it.


"You two share this uncanny ability to communicate without words. It’s like you can have entire conversations just with your eyes. Rory told me you have to talk to Genevieve every night to sleep. You both can’t stand being apart for even a day. You threw a fit the other day because she said she wouldn’t come over..."


"I don’t throw fits," I snapped.


"You don’t, but you did. What’s the big deal about admitting it? You won’t even take off that necklace she gave you." Dexter let out an exaggerated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair. "She still wears the necklace you gave her, you know. You’ve got pictures of her on your phone, and I’ve seen you smile at them every day in your office. There’s even one framed in your room. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is."


"You're being ridiculous. Genevieve and I are just good friends."


"Friends don’t look at each other the way you two do, and they definitely don’t enjoy kissing each other. She’s probably in love with you and won’t admit it because she knows you’ll go all 'Dominic' on her, like you are right now."


I had no idea what it meant to “go all Dominic” on someone, but I didn’t like my name being used that way.


I also didn’t like that people thought I was in love with Genevieve. Sure, I can’t go a day without her smile or those maddeningly gorgeous blue eyes, and yeah, I’d be nothing without her by my side, and maybe I’d even kíll for her... but that doesn’t mean I’m in love with her.


Does it?


I flinched when Dexter’s hand rested on my shoulder, unaware of when he’d moved to my side. "You, my friend, are in love with someone you shouldn’t be, and that’s completely okay. We’re all human; some things are just out of our control."


I said nothing. Even if I had something to say, it would feel like I was trying to convince myself, not him.


The door opened and closed, but my mind stayed trapped in the unsettling realization that I, Dominic Morozov, might be in love with my enémy's daughter. The daughter of the people who killéd my parents.


I tried to breathe, but it was like the air refused to reach my lungs. Inhaling deeply like I always did wasn’t working, and a growing tightness in my chest made it worse. 


Thoughts of Genevieve King flooded my mind, suffocating me. I stumbled to my feet, pacing around the office, trying to pull in what little air I could.


In love with her? Impossible.


It’s not.


My hands trembled as that voice in my head grew louder, and my legs felt like they would give out at any moment. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision.


I can’t do this.


The more I tried to breathe, the less air there seemed to be. I reached for a file on the shelf, only to stumble, nearly collapsing under the weight of it all.


I didn’t even hear the door open again, just the soft click as it shut. I turned, ready to snap at the intruder, but the sight of those sparkling ocean-blue eyes made me freeze. Her smile was like a breath of fresh air, instantly soothing the chàos inside me.


That’s what she is—my relief and my destructión.


A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth as my eyes greedily took her in. "Missed me?"


She smiled, sauntering toward me in that slow, teasing way. "Oh, very much." Her gaze scanned my face, immediately sensing something was wrong. I did my best to keep my expression neutral, but the urge to hold her was overwhelming. So, I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her waist. "What are you doing?"


Her voice, filled with concern, only made me cling tighter. "Right now? Holding you."


She laughed, and the sound was a balm to my frayed nerves. Does she know how much she means to me?


Her familiar cherry blossom scent filled my senses, and I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, which silenced her laughter. "You smell incredible," I murmured, though I knew she heard me.


"Yeah? You like it?"


More than like it. I’m obsessed with it. That scent is hers, and hers alone.


I nodded, burying my face in the crook of her neck, wanting nothing more than to stay like this. Sensing my need, Genevieve wrapped me in her embrace, and I sighed in relief.


This is what I meant when I said love makes you weak. I don’t do hugs. Ever.


Well, except maybe with Aurora. But still, this isn’t me. And yet, here I am, savoring every second of it.


If I am in love with her, I need to stop it before it destróys me.


With a painful sigh, I pulled back, locking eyes with her. The tension between us was palpable, both electrifying and dangeroús.


It’s complicated. So complicated.


I kissed her temple, then her forehead, and finally, her lips, trying to hide the pain in my eyes. "Come with me. I want to show you something."


Using the distraction, I led her through the mansion, showing her every room. The more I showed her, the brighter her gaze became, filled with excitement and curiosity. Even the tórture room didn’t faze her—she paced around it, eyes gleaming with interest.


"So, this place is soundproof?" she asked. I nodded, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from grabbing her again. "No one hears a thiñg, no matter how loud they screàm."


She wasn’t scared. Not even a little. In fact, she looked like she loved it—every dàrk, twisted part of me.


"Do you want to shoot some búllets?" I asked.


Her eyes lit up. "Yeah!"


TBC



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