INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 65
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
"It’s a great pleasure to have you here tonight, Mr. Morozov. I hope you enjoy the party." The principal said was all smiles and enthusiasm, interrupting my search for the one reason I’d bothered to attend this charade.
Ten minutes. It had been barely ten minutes since I arrived, and already five people had approached me, each eager to say something forgettable. I maintained the polished mask I'd perfected over the years, smiling, nodding, and playing the part of the affable gentleman society expected me to be, all while feeling exhausted. I donned my most convincing smile and feigned interest, even as my patience thinned, as they delivered their obligatory pleasantries and shallow conversations.
With a swift gesture, I claimed a champagne flute from the passing waiter's tray, acknowledging his service with a brief, polite 'thank you' that was as much a habit as a genuine expression of gratitude.
"Thank you, Mrs. Green." I dipped my head, though my eyes continued scanning the room. "You’ve done a spectacular job with the decor."
Of course, I knew she had no real hand in the arrangements. But she positively beamed at the compliment, even though it was obvious she had no hand in the décor. I knew her type—praise was her currency, and if a few insincere words would keep her out of my way, I’d spend them liberally.
"Oh, thank you!" she gushed, beaming as if she’d hung the stars herself. "The place does look marvelous, doesn’t it?"
I couldn’t deny it. The theme—Fairytale Dreams—was executed with an almost ethereal elegance. The room felt like an enchanted garden, dimly lit but glowing just enough to reveal every detail. Above us, tiny lights twinkled like stars, completing the illusion. It was undeniably beautiful.
"It’s perfect," I said evenly.
She looked as though she wanted to continue the conversation, but a voice called her name from across the room. Thank God.
"Excuse me," she said, smiling brightly. “Please, enjoy the evening!” And with that, she was gone.
I will—if she shows up.
Downing the champagne, I grabbed another glass from a passing waiter. Patience had never been my strong suit, and it was slipping fast. Anxiety gnawed at me, feeding a relentless string of questions.
What if I say the wrong thing again?
What if I push her even further away?
What if—
My thoughts screeched to a halt.
There she was.
Genevieve.
The moment she stepped through the door, the world seemed to shift. Time slowed, and my breath hitched as I drank in the sight of her. She was stunning. No—radiant. Her presence was magnetic, an unstoppable force that drew every bit of my attention.
Her dress, a long black off-shoulder gown with a daring slit high above the knee, clung to her curves in all the right places. Her hair, styled in soft waves, cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face in a half-up, half-down look that made her seem ethereal. A few loose strands fell delicately on either side of her face, adding a touch of whimsy to her elegance. She traded her usual boots for sleek black heels, exuding sophistication and poise.
She was breathtaking.
I couldn't look away—not that I ever could when it came to her. Even in my hoodie, sitting casually on my couch, Genevieve could captivate me. But tonight, she was something else entirely—otherworldly, a siren luring me to ruin, her beauty as devastating as it was flawless. She had always been beautiful, even in her most unguarded moments, but tonight, she was heart-stoppingly gorgeous, leaving me transfixed and unable to look away.
And she wasn’t alone.
Lima stood beside her, grinning like a fool, his adoration written all over his face. The sight of him next to her, so comfortable in her presence, sent a pang through my chest. Was he her date?
Before I could spiral into speculation, her gaze found mine.
That connection, that magnetic pull, was as strong as ever. The room seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of us. Her gaze was unyielding, crystal blue and piercing, cutting through the noise and chaós like a lifeline.
She looked at me, really looked, the way she always did. And then, just as I expected, her gaze drifted over me, taking in my tailored suit before returning to meet mine.
My heart clenched. All I wanted was to close the distance, take her in my arms, and make her mine again. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not while she was still añgry.
And definitely not with so many eyes watching.
I didn’t care about the stares or whispers, but I knew she would. For now, I stayed rooted in place, silently willing her to see the truth in my gaze. And hoping and praying that tonight would offer me a second chance.
Genevieve's lips parted slightly, and even from the maddeningly long distance between us, I could see how much my presence tonight unsettled her. A rush of satisfaction coursed through me—seeing her react this way, even without my proximity, was more rewarding than I cared to admit.
Her chest rose and fell in a slow, hypnotic rhythm as she checked me out for the second time tonight. Her gaze lingered on the outfit Aurora had insisted I wear, drawn in despite herself.
I made a mental note to thank my sister. Who knew her obsessivé love for fashion—and her thriving fashion line—would work to my advantage one day? Certainly not me.
But tonight, it did, and I was grateful. My vixen—my beautiful, utterly mesmerizing vixen—was focused entirely on me, the pest beside her nothing more than background noise.
That was my first win of the evening.
But the moment was fleeting. Julianna Nelsons—Genevieve's relentless best friend—bounded over with her boyfriend in tow. Without hesitation, she whisked Genevieve away, leaving me rooted to the spot.
I clenched my jaw. The question lingered, unspoken but potent: Why now? Some people simply lacked the grace to mind their own business.
Note to self: Julianna is untouchable. She’s Genevieve’s best friend. No exceptions.
"She's stunning tonight, isn't she?"
The voice was unmistakable. I didn't need to look to know Aurora was grinning smugly. I didn’t turn; I didn’t need to.
"And Liam looks good beside her," she added casually, with a jab that made my temper flare.
That did it. It also stuck a nerve.
I turned so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, fixing her with a glare. Aurora, predictably, grinned.
"Don’t," I warned.
"Don’t what?"
"You know exactly what."
"I’m just saying," she drawled, barely containing her amusement. "They make a cute couple."
I clenched my jaw, forcing my temper into submission. "They wouldn’t."
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh, I don’t know," she teased, her voice light but pointed. "Look—she’s smiling at him."
I didn’t need her commentary to see Genevieve laughing at something Liam had said. He wore the kind of self-satisfied expression that made me want to wipe it clean off his face. The way he stood there, basking in her attention, made my blóod boil, and irritation crept in.
"I need another drink," I muttered, my voice darkened with malÃce as I turned on my heel.
••
She was finally alone, tucked into a corner with her phone. I’d been watching her long enough to notice the absence of Liam. He’d been pulled away by someone else, leaving her free—and me with an opening.
I moved toward her, each step measured.
Genevieve glanced up as I approached, her blue eyes alight with recognition. For a moment , neither of us spoke. Questions swirled in her gaze, mingling with that familiar look—one of overwhelming love and unwavering admiration, pure and untainted—made my chest tighten. The way her face softened, the way her eyes saw only me, as though I was the center of her world—it always unraveled me. Tonight was no different.
I didn’t deserve it. Not from her. Yet, I couldn’t look away.
"Hey," I said, the word slipping out before I could second-guess it.
Her lips quirked upward, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Hey."
That was promising.
Encouraged, I let my gaze roam over her again. She was radiant—every detail of her a masterpiece. "You look good," I offered, the understatement tasting awkward even to me.
Her brow arched, amusement flickering across her features."Good? Just good?" she echoed, feigning disappointment as she glanced down at her dress. A pout—a dangeroús one—formed on her lips. "That’s all? I put a lot of effort into this, you know."
Was she teasing me?
"And I can’t say the same for you," she continued, her tone playful but deliberate. "You don’t just look good, Dominic. You look... ravishing."
Her words caught me off guard. Genevieve was flirting. With me.
I stepped closer, my movements deliberate. She tilted her head back slightly to meet my gaze, and for a moment, it was just us.
"Okay," I murmured, my voice low, intimate. "I lied. You don’t just look good. You’re stunning—breathtaking beyond words. It’s taking everything in me not to kiss you right now."
Her expression faltered, but only for a moment before a smirk replaced her smile. "Is that so? Then I’d say your self-control deserves commendation."
"Commendation isn’t what I want," I replied, my voice dropping further. "I want something else."
Her laughter was quiet but warm. "And what is it you want, Dominic?"
"A question answered."
Genevieve tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Liam is just a friend," she said, preempting me. Her words were steady, her smirk sly. "And no, he’s not my date. Any other questions?"
She knew me too well.
"Not tonight," I replied, though the admission came grudgingly.
"Good. Because I have a question of my own." Her tone was light, but her gaze was sharp. "Why are you here?"
"I was invited," I answered smoothly.
"As what?"
"Why does it matter?"
Her brow arched higher. "Because this is a Silverlake Academy event, exclusive to students and their parents. Your presence here leads me to think you've someone enrolled here. So, do you see why it matters?"
"What if I do have someone enrolled here?" I countered, my voice steady.
Genevieve tilted her head, considering. "Then it means you’re a father to someone old enough to attend a secondary school. Are you?"
"No," I said firmly, pausing before adding, "just a bro..." I stopped short when Liam reappeared, holding two glasses.
F+ckÃng bà stard.
"Great," I muttered under my breath, voice low with disdà in as I felt the irritation bubbling up again. Genevieve caught it, a flicker of amusement crossing her face.
"Hey," Liam greeted her, flashing a wide smile. "I got you a drink. It matches your eyes."
It did, and I hatéd that he noticed, but I wasn’t about to give him credit. My fists curled at my sides, tension coiling in my chest as she raised the glass. Before it touched her lips, I stepped in, taking it from her hand and downing it myself.
Liam’s expression faltered, shifting from confusion to forced politeness.
Genevieve stepped in quickly, her tone overly cheerful. "Dominic, this is Liam, a friend," she emphasized. "Liam, this is Dominic... also a friend."
The word stung, even though it shouldn't have.
It was what I wanted, wasn’t it? To keep her at arm’s length, to keep us in the safe confines of friendship. But hearing her say it—hearing her reduce me to just that—hit harder than I expected.
But as her words echoed, I felt the truth claw its way to the surface. Aurora was right. Ivan was right. Blade and Echo were right.
I didn’t want Genevieve as just a friend. I wanted more.
I needed her. My heart already knew; it calls her name.
TBC
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