INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 73
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
I found myself here again, a place I had long avoided. The last time I was meant to visit Uncle Ivan, I never set foot in this place. But now, the time had come.
Standing in the very spot where my parents’ lifeless bodies had laid eighteen years ago was a viscéral agóny. The air felt thick with memories, as if the walls themselves bore witness to that tragic moment. The faint scent of dust mingled with something more profound—grief, perhaps—an unwelcome reminder of loss that still haunted my thoughts. It húrt, not only because the image was indelibly etched in my mind, but also because I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with the daughter of their kÃller.
Here, in this place, each breath felt like a betrà yal. It gnawed at my insides, a relentless whisper reminding me that I had let a King infiltrate my mind—and my heart. But isn’t that the paradox of love?
I had heard it arrives in the most unexpected of ways, and I hadn’t believed it until it swept over me like a tide. What began as a mere act had spiraled into an obséssion before I even realized it was happening.
Mom would be devastated if she knew, and I could hardly bear to imagine Dad’s disappointment. I had vowed to them that I would bring their murderér to justice, that I would make him face the consequences in the most brutà l manner imaginable.
But how could I fulfill that promise when I stood here, in the midst of húrting Genevieve? No matter the path I chose, I would inflict paÃn on one of them. The thought sent chills through me, a terrór that gripped my very core.
Yet, strangely, I couldn’t bring myself to regret loving her. The feeling of being in love was intoxicatiñg, and my heart longed for Genevieve King. She completed me in ways that no one else ever could—not even my parents or sister. With her, I found solace; her mere presence calmed the démons within me, yet she knew how to awaken them just the same.
That girl held my fate in her hands, and I found myself willingly surrendering to her control. Everything about her was divine, even in her stubbornness. We fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, a beautiful mess that captivated me in ways no one else could. I would seek her out in every lifetime, every universe.
Why wouldn’t I?
Who in their right mind would let her go?
Genevieve’s kiss was a sip of fantasy, a sweet and savory blend of wonder that left me breathless. Her touch was the embodiment of dreams realized, a rich tapestry of sensations that ignited my senses. Her love tasted like stardust, a celestial flavor bursting with magic and endless possibility. In her embrace, I felt a whispered promise, a gentle caress of hope and unspoken happiness.
I had reached a point in my life where I would willingly lay down my own for her, and that frighténed me more than anything. The lengths to which I was prepared to go for her were dizzying, even to myself. Genevieve King was my dównfall, my exquisite damnatioñ. It felt as though she had been sent, whether from heaven or héll, to deliver my doóm, my cherished ruÃn.
Mom would often tease, “One day, you’ll be a lovestruck foól, bitten by the love bug.” Dad would chuckle and add, “We Morozov men love fiercely, not gently. Our love is an intoxicatiñg madnéss, filled with obséssion and possessiveness.”
I would laugh at their words as a child, never expecting they might one day ring true. But here I stood, a living testament to their wisdom.
“Dominic,” Uncle Ivan’s voice pulled me from my reverie, and I turned, surprised to see him here. His eyes met mine, a sad smile gracing his lips. “What brings you here?”
“I could ask you the same, Ivan.”
“I heard you were in the area, so I thought I’d come check in on you. You’ve been avoiding my offers to meet.”
“I don’t have time for golf, I am busy.” I replied, my tone sharper than intended.
I was busy—overwhelmed, really. My workload had piled up to the point of suffocation, and I had been living off instant noodles and fruits for the past nine days, too drained to care about anything more.
But the deeper reason for my presence here was the relentless tug of my conscience, urging me to revisit this place. Perhaps it was also a way to keep my mission fresh in my mind.
Tucking my hands into the pockets of my suit pants, I cleared my throat, forcing myself to ask, “What do you think I should do with this place, Uncle?”
“You want my opinion?” His surprise was evident, and his tone carried a hint of disbelief. “You usually don’t seek my advice; you just forge ahead like your father would.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied, the corners of my mouth twitching slightly.
“Of course,” he muttered, though the sadness lingered in his voice.
“So?” I urged, my gaze sweeping the room once more.
The spacious living area remained untouched, as if time had stood still for eighteen years. Dust particles danced in the slanting rays of sunlight filtering through the grimy windows, illuminating the remnants of a life once vibrant. The air felt stale, imbued with echoes of laughter and joy that had long since faded. My eyes stung, heavy with unshed tears, and I instinctively turned my back to him, hiding the vulnerability that threà tened to spill over.
I couldn’t let anyone, except for my girls, Aurora and Genevieve, see this side of me. They were the only ones I trusted enough to bear my soul. For them, I would lay down my life without hesitation; they owned the very essence of my heart.
“I think you should keep it,” Uncle Ivan finally said, his voice gentle yet firm. “Your father treasured this place; it was the first home he built for his family. It deserves to remain as a testament to his love.”
His hand came to rest on my back, a reassuring gesture that sent warmth through my spine. “What do you want to do with it?”
I inhaled deeply, allowing the musty scent of the room to wash over me, mingling with the bittersweet nostalgia that bubbled to the surface. The walls seemed to whisper tales of the past, each corner a repository of cherished memories and haunting reminders. I could almost hear my mother’s laughter echoing through the halls, mingling with my father’s deep voice. They were ghosts of a life I could never reclaim.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the decision pressed down on me like the thick air in the room. I sighed heavily, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room, a weighty reminder of the years that had passed in this unyielding space. "I honestly don't know." My voice barely broke the silence, almost lost amidst the dust motes floating lazily in the air. I wasn’t even sure he heard me. "Anything I do will probably be disappointing to them; I am disappointing to them."
"Why? Is it because of Genevieve King that you think like that?" From the corner of my eye, I caught him shoving his hands into his pockets, his posture reminiscent of my father in moments of deep reflection. The resemblance was uncanny, and it struck a chord within me. "Can I say something?"
Words refused to form; my tongue felt heavier than usual, a lead weight that kept me anchored in uncertainty. So, I simply nodded, the gesture barely perceptible.
"The one time I fell in love with a woman, I let her slip through my fingers—she became someone else's, not mine." His voice was tinged with regret, the shadows of the past flickering in his eyes. "Don't commit the same mistakes I did by letting your promise to your parents overshadow your love for Genevieve; it will be nothing but brutal for both of you." He paused, his gaze piercing through the air like a kñife, as if searching for the truth buried within me. "You love her, don't you?"
If I didn’t, I wouldn't be standing here, tormented by my own conflicting desires. It felt like teetering on the edge of a precipice, suspended between the devil and the Red Sea.
"Should I take your silence as a no?" he pressed, his voice laced with concern.
"No. I do love her. I love her a lot, Ivan." The admission hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
"Then what are you going to do?" he asked, his tone shifting to one of resolve.
"That's the thing—I can't choose. I want both; I want revenge, and I want Genevieve." My voice snapped, the rage boiling within me not directed at him, but at the suffocating circumstances that bound me. "I can't let my parents go like that. What happened to them, to me and to Aurora, is unforgivable and unforgettable."
"Then do what you think is right," he said, his voice steady, a firm anchor amidst the storm swirling in my mind. "Just know that whatever you choose, I will stand beside you in everything."
His words lingered in the air, a promise that felt both comforting and heavy. The room, untouched for eighteen years, seemed to hold its breath, the shadows deepening around us as I stood at the crossroads of love and vengeance, the weight of my decisions pressing down like the dust settling in the corners of this never-forgotten space.
••
It has been thirteen hours since I returned from my childhood home, and I still feel shatteréd, hollow, utterly devoid of something essential. The weight of the silence in this room is suffocatiñg, amplifying my longing for Genevieve, an ache that gnaws at my insides. Now more than ever, I crave her presence, and the miles and miles and miles and miles between us feel like an insurmountable chasm.
Alright, perhaps I’m exaggerating the distance, but there are at least five thousand kilometers separating us.
A loud, exhausted sigh escaped my lips as I buried my face in my palms, the coolness of my skin contrasting sharply with the warmth of the room. The scent of polished wood and the faint whiff of scented candles lingered in the air, but all I could focus on was the emptiness that surrounded me. Fatigue envelops me, and I know that my only source of solace would be my girlfriend.
I could call her, but she’s likely swamped with university obligations or lost in sleep. Yet, despite knowing I should be reasonable and not disturb her, the thought of hearing her voice or seeing her face on FaceTime pulls at my heartstrings, the longing twisting in my gut.
As my hand reached for my phone, I tried to calm my racing heart, the thud of it echoing in my ears. With her on speed dial, I tapped her contact name and took a deep breath as it began to ring, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.
With each ring, my heart sank further. I had called her four times in the span of six minutes, each time clinging to a fragile hope that she would pick up. Each unanswered call felt like a stone dropping in my chest, a hollow thud resonating in the stillness.
What could she be doing?
Why isn’t she answering?
God, this is pathetic. I came here to work, yet here I am, moping over my girlfriend’s silence. I’m twenty-eight for heaven’s sake; I should exhibit more maturity than this.
I expelled a sigh meant to relax me, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiling within. My mind was a chaótic storm, and the dim light filtering through the curtains seemed to mirror my frustration. I was utterly exhausted, and where the héll is Cassidy with the files I instructed her to bring?
I picked up my phone once more, this time to call my secretary—my personal assistant—who had accompanied me on this business trip. While I know she excels at her job, irritation flared within me, tempting me to contemplate firing her.
Sure, I had sent her on a task that required a two-hour round trip just minutes after eleven PM. But in my defense, she was with Blà de and Sal, should the need for protection arise.
Just as I was about to indulge in my frustration, a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, the sound echoing in the quiet space. I rose to my feet, the hardwood floor cool beneath my bare feet, ready to confront whoever stood on the other side.
“Can you tell me why the héll you’re so late?!” I snapped as I flung the door open, preparing to unleash my angér—only to be met with an entirely unexpected sight.
My Genevieve.
My girlfriend.
The absolute love of my life.
Mine.
Mine.
And fuckÃng mine.
She stood there, draped in one of my hoodies, the fabric swallowing her form, a striking contrast to her usual gothic attire. My gaze traveled down from her tousled hair, cascading like bright silk, to the worn boots on her feet, and I felt my heart race.
“Because I took a flight,” she replied, a small smile gracing her glossed lips, the warmth of her presence igniting something within me.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Just moments ago, I was ready to explode, and now all I desired was to hold her close and kiss her until there was nothing else in the world but us, until she couldn't breathe in anything but me.
“You’re really here, right?” I asked, needing to confirm that this wasn’t a figment of my imagination. “I’m not hallucinating, am I?”
Genevieve’s grin lit up her face, that radiant smile I adored, and she stepped forward. I watched, entranced, as she stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her slender arms around my shoulders. Leaning in, she whispered in my ear, “Why don’t we confirm?”
And then, she kissed me. Her lips brushed against mine like a feather, soft yet imbued with a passionate urgency that sent shivers down my spine, the warmth of her body igniting a fire within me.
My hands, seemingly driven by their own will, found their way to her waist, pulling her closer, as though I were afraid she might slip away. The world around us faded, the muted sounds of the city outside dissolving into nothing as I lost myself in the sensation of her warmth against me.
She pulled away just as I was savoring the taste of her lips, the intoxicatiñg sweetness of our reunion after nine long days apart. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with joy and contentment as she looked at me, and in that moment, the shadows of loneliness that had loomed over me vanished.
“So, what do you say? Am I here?” she asked, her voice a soft melody that wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. "Are you hallucinating?"
“Definitely not.” Without a moment's hesitation, I pulled her flush against me and shut the door, sealing us away from the world outside. The click of the lock echoed in the stillness, a promise that nothing would come between us.
The air in the room felt charged, electric, as I cradled her face in my hands, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with my thumb. I leaned in again, capturing her lips with mine, this kiss deeper, more fervent, a desperate need to bridge the gap that the days apart had created. The warmth of her body pressed against me ignited a spark, and I could feel the tension of the day dissipating, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and joy.
As we pulled away, breathless and laughing, I took a moment to admire her. The way her hair fell in tousled waves around her shoulders, the soft blush on her cheeks, and that enchanting smile that made everything else fade into the background. I couldn't help but chuckle, the sound echoing in the quiet room, as I pulled her closer.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I asked, my voice laced with disbelief and delight. “I would have been at the airport!”
Genevieve shrugged, her playful demeanor in full swing. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said, and I noticed the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Besides, I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”
“Oh, trust me, you’ve definitely picked me up,” I replied, grinning from ear to ear. “I was just about to lose it waiting for Cassidy to get back with some files. But now? Now I have you.”
She laughed, a sound that filled the room with warmth and light. “I’m glad to be your distraction, then.”
I felt a surge of affection as I pulled her into a tight embrace, her heartbeat syncing with mine. The weight of the day melted away, replaced by the sheer bliss of having her here, right in front of me.
She smiled softly, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. We stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. I could feel the warmth radiating from her body, the steady rhythm of her breathing anchoring me in a way I had desperately needed.
I let my lips find hers once more, this time taking the lead. Genevieve's laughter danced in the air as her back met the wall, her gaze locking onto mine with a pure, untainted love that shimmered in her beautiful eyes. In that moment, time stood still before she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine.
My lips wandered from hers to the delicate curve of her neck, feasting on that sweet spot I knew would have her squirming and whimpering in my hold. I was acutely aware of every inch of her body that could turn her into a moañing mess, and God forbid I didn’t explóit that knowledge to my advantage.
“I can’t express how thrilled I am that you’re here. I was on the brink of losing my mind,” I murmured, my voice low and thick with emotion as I showered her face with kisses.
“I already lost mine. Being apart from you is unbearable,” she replied, her voice heavy with desire, tilting her head to grant me better access to her neck. “Let’s not put ourselves through this again, okay?”
A smirk tugged at my lips against the soft curve of her neck, elated that she was just as affected as I was. In an instant, I lifted her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, her warmth igniting a firé within me.
“Noted, Vixen.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Good. I love you.”
F+ck.
A rush of emotions surged through me, almost bringing me to my knees. I could never get enough of her, nor of those three words that held such weight. My fingers tangled roughly in her hair, pulling her closer, and our lips met with a newfound urgency. I had never wanted to claim someone so fiercely, to mark her as mine.
“I’m fucking obsesséd with you,” I murmured against her lips, every word dripping with sincerity. “Every single piece of you.”
Her soft groan resonated in my ears as she locked her legs around my hips, our bodies flush against each other. “And I, baby, love everything you are, right down to your chaótic soul. I knew it. You're going to be the déath of me," I murmured, pulling back slightly.
But as I gazed into her eyes, my resolve crumbled unsurprisingly because of her hold on me. A protest surged in her throat, but it faded away as I removed my glasses and tossed them aside, leaning in to kiss her again—this time with an intensity that stole her breath away. I felt her surrender, her lips parting to welcome me, and I deepened the kiss, losing myself in the sensation. “I love you, Genevieve.”
In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just us, tangled in each other’s arms, two souls intertwined in a world that faded away around us.
TBC
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