INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 58
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
Genevieve was gone before the crack of dawn. I would know—I was awake, and no matter how stealthily she tried to slip away, every rustle, every faint sound she made pierced through the silence of the early morning like a siren.
The moment she stepped out the door, my insomnia escalated to a level I had never experienced before. It was as if she was the glue holding my fragmented existence together; without her presence, I felt myself unraveling at an alarming rate.
Now, more than ever, I recognize the significance of Genevieve King in my life. Where I once longed to disrupt her carefree world, I've come to genuinely care for her. It's almost ironic—only eight months ago, I was bent on ruinÃng her, and now the tables have turned. She seems intent on dismantling everything between us by simply declaring she’s done and walking away.
What does that even mean?!
She can't do this, can she? She can't sever our friendship over a mere misunderstanding. Can she?
The more I ruminate on this, the more severe my migraine becomes. It has been three long days since I last saw Genevieve, and I feel as though I’m teetering on the brink of madnéss.
How did she manage to transform me from a man devoid of feeling into someone who can’t fathom a day without her presence?
I wasn’t mistaken when I declared that Genevieve King had woven herself into my very being, to the point where I can’t do anything without her image invading my thoughts. But it’s not just an image; she has taken residence in my mind, as if she owns the place.
How dare she suggest ending our relationship without considering the impact it would have on me?
I had planned to go see her on Saturday, but Dexter convinced me otherwise. He mentioned something about her needing space, and I reluctantly complied. I thought I had given her ample time.
It’s just two days.
Yet here I am, grappling with the reality that she seems determined to break our bond. The thought of returning to my previous routine—one devoid of Genevieve—is disheartening.
You know the one I mean: where I go to work, come home at whatever hour, and visit the base without a hint of a smile on my face. The life where I wouldn’t chuckle at my phone or feel a flicker of joy at the thought of the girl who has brought such brightness into my otherwise dull existence.
Adjusting back to my monochrome world will be agonizing. I should have seen it coming; I should have anticipated that the happiness and bliss she brought would eventually fade. Before Genevieve, my life was not just grey—it was suffocatingly so. Then she appeared, illuminating my world with her radiant smile, her laughter a delightful melody that cut through the gloom, and her sharp wit shining light into the darkest corners of my life.
She filled the void I’d come to accept, and I should have known better than to grow attached to the colors she painted into my existence. I should have recognized the dañger in falling for her captivating eyes and infectious laughter.
Yet, I ignored all the warning signs and dove into the depths of my feelings for her. Now, I feel hollow. Even with everything I had before her arrival—my cherished sister Aurora, my uncle—I feel an emptiness that is impossible to shake.
Why?
How did she transform me into this version of myself? Or rather, when did she do it?
And why did I allow it?
If I had known that Friday night would unravel in such a way, I would have thought twice about seeking her out. No—what folly is this?
Of course I would have pursued her. The restless anxiety that consumed me when she failed to answer her phone is still fresh in my memory. That compulsion drove me to find her, hunched over on the road, tears streaming down her cheeks—a sight that shattered me.
Seeing her so vulnerable broke something deep within me. In a moment of desperation, I abandoned the umbrella I had brought, knowing full well that I was prone to illness in the rain. All that mattered in that instant was enveloping her in my arms, to shield her from whatever pain had gripped her heart.
But instead of offering solace, I drove a wedge between us. She now reads my texts without replying, and my calls go unanswered. She refuses to see me.
God!
In a fit of frustration, I swept everything off my desk, watching as papers and objects cascaded to the floor in a chaotic flurry. An unsettling fury burned a hole in my heart, and my fists clenched and unclenched, a headache mounting behind my eyes.
What a foól I am. The girl I would do anything to keep by my side confessed her feelings to me, and what did I do? I dismissed her words carelessly, as if they were insignificant. Instead of wiping her tears away, I became the source of her paÃn. The memory of her quiet sobs, her futile attempts to stifle her cries, will hà unt me for a lifetime.
My phone rang, jolting me from my reverie. A surge of hope coursed through me as I reached for it, anticipating it would be my Vixen. But that relief quickly morphed into disappointment as I saw it wasn’t her.
What was I thinking?
Genevieve King possesses an ego formidable enough to rival Mount Everest. She wouldn’t reach out to me while she’s intent on making me suffer for my careless words.
Well done to her, then. Because I am utterly miserà ble.
The door to my office swung open, and I didn’t bother to look up to identify the intruder. I know Dexter's footsteps as well as I know my own.
"What’s up, lover boy?" he chimed cheerfully, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. A mocking whistle escaped his lips, prompting me to finally snap my head in his direction. "Did an earthquake hit just your office?"
I remained silent, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of hearing me admit my turmoil. I am not in love with Genevieve, and I know that for certain. I find it baffling that those around me insist otherwise.
"You look ill." For a fleeting moment, I almost detected genuine concern in his voice. "Have you eaten today? Or are you still starving yourself like yesterday?"
"I’m not hungry."
"Right. And you’re also not in love with Genny, either. We all know that," he retorted, dripping with sarcasm.
I let my head tilt slightly to the side, staring blankly at him, a calculated move to mask the tempest raging within. "You do realize that I am your boss, don’t you?"
The playful smile on his face vanished, replaced swiftly by a knowing smirk. "Oh." Dexter nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets—a clear indication that he understood this wasn’t the appropriate time for banter. "So, you want to play the superior card, huh? That’s fair enough."
As much as I hatéd to admit it, he was annoyingly correct. I was wielding my authority like a weà pon, desperate to push him away when all he had shown was concern for my well-being.
"But know this, Boss." I winced at the clipped tone he used, particularly how he emphasized that last word with palpable irritation. "If you don’t get your act together, it will be too late. Stop resisting; you love that girl, and she loves you back. You have no idea how fortunate you are to have found someone like her who embraces every part of you." He exhaled those words with an unsettling ease. "I’ll take my leave now, Boss." Dexter bowed his head and departed before I could muster a response.
First, I lost Genevieve, and now I was on the verge of losing my right-hand man, a vital piece of my life. What was wrong with me? Why did I keep saying the wrong things?
And what did he mean by "it will be too late"? There was no way Genevieve could ever replace me in her life. Right?
After all, she had professed her love for me, and while I’m no expert in matters of the heart, I was fairly certain that love was not supposed to be conditional or fleeting. It should be unyielding and everlasting. A confession shouldn’t evaporate in mere days.
Genevieve is mine! I want her back.
It felt absurd—like a child denied their favorite teddy bear. I was a mess.
☆☆☆☆
Tuesday was even more unbearable than Monday. Everything seemed to converge at once, overwhelming me. The relentless migraine, a lingering shadow since Friday, continued to plague me.
You might think that was the worst of it. No, the real issue was my total lack of appetite. I hadn’t consumed a proper meal in three days, and to add salt to injury, I might have caught a cold that curséd Friday night.
The incessant coughing and sneezing would not relent. But honestly, I couldn’t blame them; if I were in their position, I wouldn’t leave either. It felt like my own personal penance for the things I had said.
My fist tightened around the pen I held as my eyes remained glued to the TV in my office. The news anchor droned on about the plummeting performance of the Morozov Empire. It ignited a firé within me.
But I couldn’t blame her. She was merely doing her job while I was failing at mine. My company had already suffered a two percent decline due to my distracted mindset, and the fear of further losses loomed ominously.
Fortunately, the ringing of my phone pulled me from my dark thoughts before I could shatter the screen in frustration. I retrieved it from my pocket, and upon seeing the contact ID, I answered.
"Hey, Nic." Aurora’s gentle voice flowed through the line, prompting me to exhale deeply. "I just saw the news. Are you okay?"
She was referring to the company's decline.
"Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?" I shot back.
"You’ve been really snappy lately. I don’t like it."
A weary sigh escaped my lips as I acknowledged her truth. I had been in a foul mood, and it was clearly affecting those around me.
I ran my fingers through my meticulously styled hair, ruffling it in frustration. "I’m sorry, Rory. Everything is a complete mess right now."
"You should talk to her."
What does she think I’ve been trying to do for days?
Genevieve was steadfastly ignoring me.
"Do you think I haven’t tried?"
Aurora fell silent for a moment, and just as I was about to inquire why, I heard that unmistakable giggle. The sound that sent my heart into a frantic race.
What could possibly be making her laugh like that? Or better yet, who?
The universe seemed to conspire against me, for just as I contemplated this, I got my answer—one I wished I hadn’t received.
"I thought you said I’m not funny. So why are you laughing, Genny?" That voice. I recognize it, and the fact that I do is a problem. It's a sound that grates on my nerves.
It belonged to a boy named Lime, or was it Lima? No, Liam. Yes, Liam—the same boy Genevieve had once confronted for getting too close. So why was she laughing at something he said?!
Rage consumed me with each passing second I spent dwelling on it. I gritted my teeth, struggling to rein in the fury that threatened to spill over. "Where are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I’m fairly certain I didn’t speak in Latin, Aurora."
My sister chuckled softly. "I’m at school. What are you going to do?"
What was I going to do? I couldn’t say for certain, but it was definitely something.
And I desperately wanted to know what was so amusing. I was certain they wouldn't mind sharing the joke with me.
TBC
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