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Insatiable Cravings - Episode 75

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INSATIABLE CRAVINGS

Insatiable Cravings - Episode 75

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 ~


Last night took an unexpected turn, and I can’t say I hàte it. One moment, I was adrift in a haze, and the next, I found myself drifting to sleep on my girlfriend Genevieve's lap, her fingers threading gently through my hair. The sensation of her touch grounded me, a warmth that seeped into my very bones. 


The word "girlfriend" still feels foreign on my tongue, yet there’s a frighteniñg comfort in it. It might take a while to get used to, but I’m here for it—every moment, every heartbeat. 


Yet, a dark, twisted shadow lingers in the back of my mind, a warning of the inevitable dóom that looms over me. It’s simply not possible for someone like me to have a happily ever after—not with my mission hanging over my head, nor with the livés I’ve taken so cruélly, or those I still must take because of the path I’ve chosen.


How long will it be before that time comes?


How will I cope without Genevieve? I’ve already tasted that bitter solitude, and trust me, I don’t want a second helping. 


Despite knowing that shaking my head won’t rid me of these consuming thoughts, I do it anyway, hoping to clear my mind. It’s a futile gesture, as every happy memory with her is swiftly tainted by the hauntiñg specter of separation, an unwelcome guest that refuses to leave. 


The sharp, insistent ringing of my phone jolted me back to reality, cutting through the fog of my worries, and I reached for it blindly. 


Aurora. 


“Hey,” her usual chipper voice brought a smile to my face, a lightness I desperately need. “Enjoying your day?”


“No,” I replied, the truth slipping out with a hint of frustration. 


“What?” She sounded genuinely surprised, incredulous even. “Why?” 


“Because I’m at work, Rory.” 


“But…” My baby sister paused, the kind of pause that indicates she’s piecing together a puzzle. “She posted a bunch of pictures on her IG.” 


“Who is she?” My voice dripped with boredom and fatigue, a defense mechanism against the impending onslàught of emotion. 


“Genevieve, you know, the girl you’re dating. The same one you’re so whipped for.” 


“I am not whipped,” I snapped, though the protest feels like a lie, even to me. 


Aurora scoffed, that mockingly amused tone creeping in. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Everybody knows you’re whipped.” 


Everybody?


Who is this "everybody" she speaks of?


Before I can voice my confusion, my sister jumped in, “And before you ask, everybody is every single person on the base. You’re totally obsesséd with her.” 


Ignoring the jab, I focus on her earlier statement. “What did she post?” 


“Oh, golf. She’s golfing… I think.” 


Genevieve wouldn’t just up and go golfing, especially not in this cold. She’d rather stay wrapped in a blanket, cozying up with her Kindle or binge-watching some show.


“Is she with someone?” 


“I don’t know. It’s just her in the pictures. She looks pretty.” 


“I know.” 


“Cocky.” 


A lopsided grin spread across my face as I bask in the reality of having such a stunning girlfriend. No, I’m not bragging; it’s a fact everyone can agree on

Even if they don’t, I know that Genevieve King, my girlfriend, is a breathtaking masterpiece. That twinkle in her ocean-blue eyes mirrors a sunset over the ocean on a perfect summer evening, and her smile? Even the sun pales in comparison to its brightness. 


But now isn’t the time to list every way my Vixen dazzles me, especially not while she’s out playing golf with an unknown figure, possibly setting me on edge. 


I tapped on the contact for one of the two men I’ve assigned to keep an eye on her. She’s using them as intended, without complaint—a rarity, considering how much she loves to chatter when something displeases her. 


Petrov picked up on the second ring, his deep Russian accent smooth and submissive. “Yes, Boss.” 


“Where is Genevieve?” 


“In front of me. Why, Boss?” 


“Who is she with?” 


I hàte how the question makes me sound like the controlling boyfriend, the one who suffocates his girlfriend with possessiveness. I’m not trying to control her; I just need to know where the love of my life is and who she’s with. 


That’s not unreasonable, right? If you think it is, then sue me.


“Ivan,” Petrov responded, and as if sensing my confusion, he added, “Your uncle Ivan, Boss.”


I understand, but that doesn’t ease my confusion—or my rising unease.


Why are they together alone? 


What will he tell her? It’s not that I don’t trust my uncle; I do—implicitly. I trust him with my life, but that doesn’t change the fact that Ivan Morozov is, and always will be, a sly man. The kind of man who knows how to play his cards right, and I can’t shake the feeling that he might have ulterior motives. 


With my throat tight and heart racing, I manage to ask, “What are they doing?” 


“Playing golf,” Petrov replied, his tone steady.


I rolled my eyes, frustration prickling at my skin. “I know that, Petrov. I meant, what are they doing right now?” 


“Talking, Boss. She seems comfortable around him, and they’re laughing.”


Comfortable? The word sent a sharp pang through me. I’ve seen that look on her face, the way her eyes light up with genuine happiness, and it’s a look I will fought tooth and nail to protect. The thought of her laughing with my uncle, of her sharing moments I’m not a part of, ignited a primal urge to be by her side. 


Okay, I have approximately ten or twenty minutes to get there and prevent Genevieve from discovering anything she isn’t supposed to know. I have to act fast. Nothing can happen in twenty minutes. 


Right? 


As I push through the chàos in my mind, I can almost feel the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. I grabbed my coat and strode toward the door, the chill of the air hitting me like a slap. My thoughts spiral as I navigated the hall, each step echoing with the urgency of my need to protect her. 


What if Ivan tells her something that changes how she sees me? What if this is the moment everything unravels? The stakes are higher than ever, and I can’t let anything—or anyone—threàten what we have now. 


I pulled out my phone, my fingers flying over the screen as I text Petrov. 


Me: Keep an eye on them. I’m on my way.


The response is almost immediate. 


Petrov: Understood, Boss.


I can’t shake the anxious energy coursing through me as I rushed toward my car. Every second feels like an eternity, and I can almost envision Genevieve’s laughter ringing in my ears, a sound that should bring joy but now feels like a warning siren.


The engine roared to life, and I hit the gas, the tires screeching against the pavement as I sped toward the golf course. Images of Genevieve flooded my mind—her laughter, her smile, the way she lights up a room—each memory fueling my determination.


As I drove, the icy air bites at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the fire igniting in my chest. I can’t afford to lose her, not now. Not when every moment we share feels like a fragile thread holding us together.


The golf course came into view, sprawling green under a gray sky, and I can see them in the distance. Genevieve stood there, her silhouette striking against the backdrop, and my heart raced. She looked beautiful, as always, but I can’t shake the unease settling in my gut. 


I pulled into a nearby parking spot and stepped out, my pulse quickening as I made my way toward them. The wind swirled around me, carrying the faint sounds of their laughter, and I steeled myself for whatever confrontation lies ahead. 


As I approached, I noticed the way Genevieve leaned in, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she listened to Ivan. I can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me.


“Dominic!” she called, her voice bright and welcoming, cutting through the tension in the air.


I forced a smile, but inside, I’m bracing for the worst, ready to safeguard the woman who has unwittingly become the center of my world. 


“Hey, gorgeous,” I replied, my tone even as I step closer, my eyes locking onto Ivan’s. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” 


Genevieve’s smile widened, and she gestured for me to join them. “Not at all! We were just having a chat.” 


As I stood there, the unspoken tension crackling between us, I remind myself of one crucial truth: I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, even from the shadows of my own life—the ones she remains blissfully unaware of, the ones capable of unraveling both of our worlds. 


“Isn’t it a bit too chilly for a round of golf?” I quipped, my gaze shifting from Genevieve to Ivan. His trademark smirk was plastered across his face, a flicker of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Frostbite isn’t just a myth, you know.” 


Genevieve glanced back and forth between us, her intuition seemingly picking up on the charged atmosphere. “I’m fine,” she asserted, though the slight tremor in her voice suggested otherwise. 


“Does that mean you don’t want my coat?” I teased, watching as her beautiful smile, which had been aimed at my uncle, redirected to me like a warm sun breaking through the clouds. 


“On second thought, I’m freezing. So cold.” She shivered dramatically, her body quaking as she played up her act. “See? I’m practically shaking.” 


A grin stretched across my face as I looked down at her, the world around us fading into insignificance, our eyes locking in a moment that felt suspended in time. “I can see that, Baby.” 


As I draped my coat over her shoulders, I watched her slip it on, a soft, contented sigh escaping her lips as she subtly inhaled its scent—my scent. That radiant smile returned, illuminating her face. I turned to Ivan, who still continued to observe us with a keen, almost predatory interest. 


Emphasis on the still. 


I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. “She’s quite the golfer.”


“Quite?” Genevieve interjected, disbelief etched across her features. “I’m not quite good; I’m a professional. I have awards to prove it.” 


Always the firecracker, my Vixen. Genevieve knew exactly when to assert herself, stepping back as if sensing the need for a moment of privacy between my uncle and me. 


“May I ask why you’re here?” I inquired, my tone laced with suspicion, each word deliberate. 


“What? Can’t I visit my nephew in his own hotel anymore?” His voice held an undercurrent that confirmed my suspicions—he had an agenda. 


“You knew I was working, so why now?” 


“I needed to see the girl you’re so in love with.”


“But you already saw her at home.” 


“I wanted to see her again. Can’t I do that?” Ivan’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief, the usual slyness mingling with a darker amusement. “Besides, this is your home. You belong here in Russia, Dominic.” 


I stepped forward, the weight of authority anchoring me as I slid my hands into my pockets. “I know that. What I don't know is why you wanted to see her when I wasn't here.” 


“Easy, easy, son. I really wanted to see the girl you love so much that you took her to the base and introduced her to our móbsters. Why are you making this into a big deal? Is there anything else you're hiding from me, huh, Dominic?”


Of course he knows. Why did I ever think he wouldn’t?


“No, I’m not hiding anything from you. I just didn’t want to tell you yet because I didn’t know how you would react.”


“How do you want me to react? You not only confided your biggest secret to a girl you're not even engaged to, but you also revealed the location of our top-secret operations in her f+ckíng country. Do you think she wouldn't talk if she were coerced or threàtened?” 


“She will not talk.” My voice was firm, a simmering ràge rising within me at the thought of him questioning Genevieve's loyalty. 


“How are you so sure?” 


“Because I trust her, uncle. I really, really do, and it’s not just because I'm ‘in love with her’—it’s because she’s earned that trust. If I say Genevieve wouldn’t talk, then trust me, she wouldn’t.”


“So, you're asking me to trust you? To believe that your faith in your girlfriend doesn’t put your life—and Aurora's—at rísk?” Ivan’s voice grew sharper, añger etched into every syllable. “I can't and will not lose you two, Dominic. Not in this life, not as long as you remain my nephew and she my niece. Am I understood?” 


He held my gaze, those coral blue eyes piercing into mine, a challenge I couldn't dare to ignore.


“I need an answer, Dominic.” He stepped forward; I instinctively stepped back. “Am. I. Understood?” Each word fell like a hammer, intentional and resounding.


“Yes.” I replied, my heart pounding. “I promise you can trust her.”


He smiled—a genuine smile that seemed almost out of place after such intensity. “I’ll just have to watch and see. By the way, I see why you’re so smitten. She complements you perfectly. You two are like two puzzle pieces that fit seamlessly together.” 


Unsure of how to respond, I settled for a simple, “Thanks?” 


He chuckled, a light-hearted sound that broke the tension. “See, she said it in exactly the same way. Is that what happens to people who date? It’s kind of creepy. Anyway, have dinner with me and her before she goes back. I’m not asking. See you later.” And just like that, he was gone. 


I remained rooted to the spot, still staring at his retreating figure when Genevieve appeared beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her gaze fixed on the same direction. 


“Don't you trust your uncle, Dominic?” Her question jolted me out of my thoughts, forcing me to shift my focus to her. 


“Of course I do. Why do you think I don’t.”


“Because you're acting strange—really strange. And from the looks of it, you rushed down here in a hurry, almost as if you were trying to prevent something from happening.”


My heart stopped, a cold dread washing over me. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, she pinned me with a look that made my insides twist. 


I found myself at a loss for words, simply staring back at her. Genevieve's eyes searched mine as if mapping out the unspoken truths hidden there. 


“You know you can tell me anything, right?” She asked, her voice laced with a desperate plea for my trust. I hatéd that I made her feel like I didn’t already trust her. 


Cradling her face in my palm, I fought to maintain my composure under the weight of her intoxicating gaze, murmuring, “I know.”


“And you trust me, right?” Genevieve closed the distance between us, gripping the lapel of my suit. “You do trust me, right, Dominic?” 


“With my whole heart, my love.” 


“Good, because I trust you with my life, and that’s the most important thing after the heart... right?” I laughed, nodding my head in agreement. 


“Yeah, I think so too.” I pressed a gentle peck to the corner of her lips, then her forehead, and her cheeks.

“What were you up to before my uncle arrived?” 


“Nothing, actually. I was thinking of staying in and reading, then tackling some assignments before lunch. Are you going back?” 


I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. “Do you want me to go back?” 


“Do you want the reasonable answer or the honest answer?” 


“I want the Genevieve answer.” 


“Then no. Genevieve says no.” 


“Does Genevieve know how adorable she looks in my coat?” 


“Who is this Genevieve and why did you give her your coat?” 


“Genevieve is my girlfriend.” 


She smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “Is she prettier than me?” 


I pulled her even closer, tilting my head until my lips brushed against her ear, whispering, “You're Genevieve, Vixen.”


“Does this mean I am your girlfriend?” 


“Sure, you are, my love.” Her giggle danced in the air as she let her lips meet my cheek. “You won, right?” 


She pulled back, meeting my gaze with a triumphant smile. “Definitely, your uncle couldn't stand a chance against me, the greatest golfer in all of the UK.” 


“I think you're over-exaggerating a bit, sweetheart.” 


She playfully slapped my arm, her lovely smile illuminating the space between us. “You're cràzy.” 


“Over you, yes.” I brushed my lips softly against hers, and the next words that escaped my mouth couldn't be more truthful. “Я буду любить тебя, пока бьётся моё сердце, и даже долго после этого.” 


“What does that mean?” 


“It means I love you.” 


“You're lying.” 


“No, I am not.” 


“Yes, you are.” 


“No, I am not.” 


“I will learn Russian then.” 


Her teasing brought warmth to my heart, a lightness that felt precious amidst the weight of my world. I chuckled softly, savoring this moment of normalcy, of love, with her. In a life filled with shadows and secrets, Genevieve was the radiant light that guided me home.


“Then let me help you,” I said, my voice low and earnest. "I’ll teach you, every word, every phrase.” 


“Deal?” she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. 


“Deal.” I echoed, pulling her even closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat syncing with my own. 


In that moment, all my worries faded into the background, leaving only the intoxicatiñg presence of Genevieve. 


With that, I captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, pouring every ounce of my love and devotion into that moment. In that kiss, I promised her my heart, my soul, and everything that came with being a part of my world—a world that was dangeroús and unpredictable, but also filled with love and hope.


As we pulled apart, I looked into her eyes, the truth of my feelings reflected back at me. “No matter what happens, Genevieve, you are my safe harbor. I will always protect you. I will leave your side.” 


“Promise?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 


“I promise,” I replied, sealing my vow with another gentle kiss. In that moment, under the weight of the world, we found solace in each other—a powerful love that could withstand anything. 


Or so I thought. 


TBC


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