INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings – Episode 10
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic’s POV ~
You know that question that occasionally surfaces in every human’s mind, making us question our sañity?
If you can relate, then you understand exactly what I’m experiencing right now.
I should feel conflictéd or at least a little bothered about whether to head to the base or go straight home. I know which choice I’m supposed to make, yet I chose differently.
I made that choice without a hint of hesitation because there’s someone waiting for me at home, and I can’t wait to see the bright smile on her face when I show her what I’ve brought for her.
I know for a fact that she’ll love it.
“So, you’re not coming today?” Dexter’s voice crackled through the speaker, courtesy of my phone being connected as I drove.
I may love dànger, but I’m not in the mood to see my maker right now. I’m still too young for that.
“Yes. You’ll have to take care of things tonight, and we’ll see about tomorrow.”
He groaned like a petulant child, instantly bringing a grimace to my face. “But I have plans for tonight.”
“You can have phone s+x with Henry tomorrow.”
“For the millionth time, it’s HARRY!” He practically yelled his boyfriend’s name.
Of course, I know that; I just enjoy annoying him, and this is the best way to do it.
I heard him hiss before he added, “And we’re not having phone s+x.”
“Yeah, I totally believe that.” I replied sarcastically, convinced he’d launch into an argument any second. “Talk to you later.”
“Jérk,” was the last thing I heard before I pressed the red icon to hang up.
Most people wouldn’t dare say that to my face—or even within earshot—because of how quickly I can remóve someone from existence, but Dexter doesn’t care. He knows I wouldn’t hàrm him because once I make you my person, it’s forever.
It wasn’t hard to push Dexter from my mind; Genevieve quickly took his place. I started to wonder what she might be doing now.
She’s probably reading. She always has her e-reader in hand, treating it like it’s her lifeline. Honestly, it’s crazy how obsessed she is with reading.
Suddenly, my thoughts came to a halt as I turned into my estate. I call it mine because it’s the only house around.
About four years ago, when Aurora said she wanted to study in the UK, I bought the entire estate, tore down all the houses, and built one massive one—the one we live in now.
I turned off the engine after parking the car, stepped out, and gazed up at the building before me as if it were new.
I have no idea why I suggested this. It was obviously a bad idea, even from a distance. All I know is that an unsettling feeling washed over me when she told me she couldn’t come over.
I think I panícked.
I hate that she can make me pánic.
Looking at my own house, I realized I was hesitating to go inside. Tucking my hands into my pockets, I scanned for the dogs, suddenly realizing I hadn’t heard their barking.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, dialed my sister’s number, and waited for her to pick up.
When she did, she didn’t even let me speak before saying, “Yes, I’m with the dogs. I’m at the outhouse, and yes, I’m fine.” And then she hung up.
Ah, I can’t believe I forgot to mention that I also built another house that Rory calls the outhouse—a name that stuck from the very first time she said it.
The outhouse isn’t really a house. Well, it is, but it serves mostly as our art studio. Aurora and I inherited some artistic talent from our mother, who was a well-known and extremely talented artist.
Rory doesn’t really know Mom because she was just a baby when those monstérs ruthléssly took her life and my dad’s. But I know both of my parents well, and I loved them with everything I had.
I was only ten when I witnessed their lives slip away. That dreàdful day was the last time I shed a tear and the moment I vowed to make the responsible party pay dearly.
And now, the offspring of that person is in my house, and I’m here getting worked up about it. I’m imagining how her face will light up with delight when I show her what I made for her.
Once again, I’m left with the question: who is ruiñing whom?
For once in my life, being ruiñed doesn’t feel so bad—if being ruiñed feels this good. I both liked and hatéd this sensation. How could I not appreciate it when she’s one of the few truly amazing people in existence?
Not only is she incredible, but she’s also the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, with gorgeous hair and a mesmerizing pair of eyes.
How can I not despíse it when she makes me want her like I’ve never wanted anything in my life?
Genevieve King knows exactly what she’s doing. She understands the power she holds over me, and it seems I’m not the only one who has vowed to ruin the other.
We are dangeroúsly entwined in our own doóm.
There she was, looking devastatiñgly beautiful as she read, her eyes sparkling over the screen of her device. The tranquility on her face illuminated the room, making my head spin at how someone can be so incredibly beautiful while reading. Though her stunning strawberry-blonde hair framed her face in a way that partially obscured it, I could still see that relaxed expression.
She was so engrossed in whatever the héll was happening in the digital pages of her e-book that she didn’t hear me approach. Or maybe I was just too quiet.
Rory tells me I have a knack for that.
“Hi,” Genevieve breathed, not lifting her gaze. “It’s rude to sneak up on people.”
So she heard me after all.
How did she hear me?
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you.”
Look up.
Look at me.
Look up.
She scoffed. “Yeah, right. That’s what you said when I caught you stalkiñg me.”
For the umpteenth time, I wasn’t stalkiñg her. I was simply following her from a distance as she walked, for an entire week. No big deal.
Standing in front of her, I tucked my hands into my pockets, staring down at her, desperately hoping she would let me glimpse her beautiful face and hypnotizing blue eyes. “I see you’re always reading. Don’t you have any other hobbies?”
It worked.
She lifted her head, and our eyes collided. I couldn’t help but notice how her gaze scanned me while mine did the same to her. “I do more than read; sometimes I listen to them. What about you? Don’t you have any other hobbies apart from, you know, unalivíng people?”
There it was again—“unalíve.”
What the héll does that mean?
Ignoring my moment of confusion, I quickly replied, “I’ll have you know that I do in fact have other hobbies.”
It’s not a lie.
“Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Does she really think I enjoy unalivíng people? Whatever that means.
Wait, alive…un-alíve…
Does it mean to kíll people?
If so, then yes, I do enjoy it. I love watching the light fade from their eyes; it’s overwhelmingly exhilarating.
Every normal person would fall for her tricks, but I’m not normal, so I don’t. Instead, I let a maniàcal smile spread across my face before saying, “So you think my hobbies involve unalivíng people? Or are you just trying to be coy, so I’ll reveal my hobbies?”
Genevieve shrugged, placing her reading device beside her on the sofa. “Yes.” She replied with a smirk, crossing her legs.
She must be God’s favorite because how can one person possess so many beautiful qualities, have a sharp tongue, and be unafraid to talk to someone who could énd her life in an instant?
“Yes, what?” I asked. “Yes, you think my hobbies are to unalíve people? Or yes, you’re being coy? Which is it?”
“Both.” I gave her a skeptical look, causing her to roll her eyes and fold her arms against her chest with a relaxed demeanor. “Okay, fine, it’s the latter. So, tell me, what are your hobbies?”
Since getting to know Genevieve King—not just as my target of destruction, but as a real person—I’ve become curious about what lies within those pages that makes her smile, chuckle, and even gasp. She expresses every emotion while reading.
I want to know what evokes those feelings.
Are you jealous of a book?
No!
Shutting down that ridiculous thought, I nodded. “I’ll tell you if you tell me what you’re reading.”
Genevieve’s face turned a shade of red that could rival a tomato. Looking down at her device and back at me, she let out a small snicker.
“Vixen,” the nickname I didn’t even realize I’d started using slipped from my lips. “Are you reading p0rn?”
I wouldn’t be surprised if she was. After all, she’s an avid reader, and many books include those kinds of scenes. And she’s read a lot, based on what I discovered.
“What? No!”
“So, is there another reason you’re blushing?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Impulse and I have never been friends; in fact, I’ve never acted impulsively until she started to influence me.
All I wanted right now was to take the device from her. But doing so would mean making direct contact with her, which I’d been avoiding because I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to handle whatever tricks she might pull.
But did I listen to the warning in my head telling me to steer clear? No.
Genevieve must have sensed what I was about to do because she quickly tucked the device behind her back, as if I could lift her with one hand while using the other to see what she was reading.
I scoffed, a sound that came out more like a laugh than a scoff. Within two seconds, I found myself so close to her that I was still on my feet while trying to snatch the reading device from her grasp.
For a girl sitting down, she was surprisingly strong.
Now, I sound like a s+xíst.
After I managed to grab hold of the e-reader, she yanked it from the other end, causing me to lose my balance and fall against her. A startled gasp escaped her as her back hit the sofa, with my body pressing against hers.
Her skin radiated heat, and I had to force myself not to enjoy it and get up, but as I did, I was distracted by her wild ocean-blue eyes.
God, they were even more breathtaking up close. She was stunningly beautiful as she stared up at me, her chest rising and falling, her e-reader forgotten.
This was exactly what I wanted to avoid—her annoyingly gorgeous face so close to mine. And I hadn’t even mentioned those lips. They were as tempting as she was, red and plump in all their glory.
She was divine personified.
We were practically breathing the same air, our noses nearly touching, and those beautiful eyes of hers shimmered with desire as she lay beneath me.
Retreat, Dominic.
Retreat, Dominic.
Dominic, retreat.
I did. I stood up, taking her e-reader with me and focusing entirely on the device to avoid her gaze for a moment, trying to regain my composure. While I deleted the sínful and inappropriàte thoughts I had about her, I noticed her frowning at herself.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Genevieve was the first to break the silence.
“No,” I replied simply, finally noticing that her e-reader was password-protected. “What’s the password?”
“No.”
“No is the password?”
“No. I’m not telling you.”
Ignoring the rational part of my brain, I took a seat beside her after shrugging off my suit jacket. A low hum slipped from my mouth. “That’s too bad. I had something to give you if you told me.”
When I entrusted her with my house keys, I had made it clear not to snoop around, and she had agreed. I was confident she hadn’t, as I had been watching her through the cameras while at work.
As I expected, her face lit up with excitement and anticipation as she turned to face me completely. “What is it? What do you have for me?” she asked cheerfully, pushing strands of hair behind her ear.
“Password?”
Her eyes flickered from the device I held in my hand, and I could almost see her debating it in her head before she finally said, “Fine. Give it to me. I’ll open it myself and show you.”
Yes, someone as cunníngly smart as Genevieve King, who had the power to completely disarm me, could also quickly click away from what she didn’t want me to see.
“You must think I’m stúpid.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, yeah, I don’t trust you.”
“Hey, I saved your life.”
“I saved yours, too. Twice.”
For a moment, it looked like she wanted to continue this exchange before she groaned. “Fine, the password is ‘Butterfly’ with the ‘b’ capitalized. See, I’ve shown you, so now show me your part of the deal.”
“Impatient much, Genevieve?”
“Yes, very much so, Dominic.”
“Okay, follow me.” I said, standing up and waiting for her to do the same. “Do you remember where we talked about your room?”
“Yeah?”
As I reached the top step, I halted, prompting her to stop as well. “How much do you enjoy surprises?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“How good the surprise is.”
“Not how big?”
Given that she grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, I expected her to be fond of material things.
She frowned. “No, not really.”
After walking for a while, I paused in front of a door and turned to face her. Genevieve’s eyes darted between me and the doorknob I was gripping. “You ready?”
“Ready? Ready for what?” The curiosity and anticipation in her dazzling eyes was almost indescribably beautiful.
I can never emphasize enough how stunning her eyes are. They are truly a masterpiece.
“Is this where you bring your victíms?” She gasped dramatically. “Are you going to slaughtér me in there?”
A chuckle escaped me. “You think I do that kind of stuff in my house?”
“Are you saying you have a separate place for your mafía duties? What’s it called? Can I see it? How big is it?”
“You know, normal people would be terrified to have a mafía don this close to them.”
I’m starting to think she’s a lot cràzier than I initially realized.
Genevieve’s lips curled into a slow smirk, and she giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Not when the mafía is almost obsesséd with her.”
What?
That can’t be true.
It is!
I am absolutely not obsesséd with anyone, especially her. It’s ridicúlous.
“I am not obsesséd with you.”
“That’s what you think.”
“What makes you believe I’m obsesséd with you?”
“Well, for one, you cooked for me. I’m sure you haven’t done that for your hookúps. Two, you drove me in your car, which I bet is a rare occurrence. Three, you got me imported chocolates from Rússia, which must have cost a fortune. Four, you let me have your house keys when you haven’t brought any of your fliñgs close to this place. Five, you have a nickname for me that I’m guessing you don’t do often. And six, you’re about to give me something substantial enough that it can’t just be handed over.” She sweetly smiled at me, leaving me utterly speechless. “If that’s not a sign of obséssion, then what is?”
She can’t be right. I can’t let her be right. I can’t let her get to me.
Thinking quickly, I blurted, “Being friendly?”
“You don’t have friends.”
How does she know that?
“I actually do.”
“Then they must be your màfia-related friends, right?”
Yes.
“No.”
“You’re cute when you lie.” Genevieve shook her head, her eyes gleaming with admiration, as if she were looking at a puppy, which made me frown. “So, what do you want to give me?”
“On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t give it to you at all.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not being a very good girl.”
“Maybe because I’m not good.”
“Then how bàd are you, Vixen?”
“Bàd enough to want you even after knowing I shouldn’t.”
We’re flirting, and I’m allowing it.
Why am I letting this happen?
Maybe because you like her.
I do not!
“You shouldn’t.” I conceded to her statement.
“Oh, I know that. But the mere thought of having the forbiddén is so appealing, isn’t it, Dominic?” Genevieve stepped forward, and I stepped back, realizing I might not be strong enough to resist whatever move she’s about to make, which earned a small laugh from her. “Open the door.”
I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped into the room. Genevieve hesitated at the threshold before following me inside.
“It’s dark.”
“I know,” I replied, flicking on the light switch. I watched her eyes scan the room, taking in her surroundings.
I did something.
Sure you did.
I created a room for her in my house because she mentioned she didn’t feel at home in hers. I couldn’t explain why I did it, but ever since she entered my life, impulsive decisions have been my constant companion.
After waiting for barely a minute for her to say something—and receiving no response—I decided to break the silence. “So?”
Genevieve turned to face me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. All the air rushed out of my lungs as I stared at her.
She’s beautiful.
How could someone look so stunning even while crying?
How could I bring myself to enjoy watching her suffer after I’m done with her when she looks like this?
“This is for me?” she asked, her curious eyes shimmering with tears.
“Yeah.”
When I had asked her to describe her ideal room, I had already resolved to make it a reality, which is exactly what I did.
“Really?”
“Yes. Do you like it?”
Genevieve looked around again before returning her gaze to me. “Do I like it?” I nodded. “Of course, yes.”
“Oh, good. I was starting to think that…” My words trailed off as she jumped into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I froze. I literally didn’t know how to react while she hugged me, unsure if I even wanted to do anything at all.
The combined scents of cherry blossom from her hair and water lilies from her body enveloped me, suffocating me in the best way possible. For some strange reason, I didn’t mind the feeling.
The hug lasted barely a minute, but to me, it felt like an eternity before she pulled away. Her hair fell across part of her face, and as she reached to fix it, I beat her to it. I locked my eyes onto hers, trying not to get lost in them as my fingers brushed her smooth skin, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She would rúin me if she kept looking at me like that.
“Thank you,” Genevieve whispered after I finished fixing her hair. “I…I…it…” Hearing her stutter again was incredibly endearing. “Why are you laughing?”
“You’re at a loss for words.”
“Yeah, so?”
“If you’re like this because of the room, how will you react when you see the other part of the surprise?”
Just as she was about to ask what I had planned, her eyes landed on the cartons in front of the bookshelves. Her eyes widened with excitement. “Are those books in those cartons?”
“Yes.”
Genevieve rushed to them, crouching down to open one. As she flipped through the books, she exclaimed, “How do you know I want to read these?”
She seemed even more thrilled about the books than the room—it was unbelievable.
Without thinking, I blurted out, “I hàcked into your phone and found your TBR list.”
I really did hàck into her phone and discovered she had nearly a thousand books she wanted to read, so I got them for her.
There were twenty large boxes filled with books: seventeen boxes of her TBR and the rest were recommendations from the store.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Hàcking into someone’s phone is a críme. I just realized you don’t care.”
“You’re right.”
“Well, thank you for hàcking into my phone to get me these books. I love them.”
I chuckled but replied, “You’re welcome. I will leave you to your books now; you can arrange them.”
Genevieve smiled. “Alright.”
I gave her one last glance before stepping out of the room and heading to my own, which was just next door.
Knowing I had made her happy and even earned a hug from her filled me with an unexpected joy, so much so that I found myself humming a tune I couldn’t quite place.
Exactly one hour and thirty minutes later, I decided to check on her—not because I missed her or anything—but to find her sprawled out on the bed.
My footsteps faltered as I approached her slowly, careful not to wake her. It would be unfortunate since she looked so peaceful.
Does that even make sense?
Her face was free of worry or stress, her breath slow and steady. I stopped just three feet away, continuing to gaze at her.
I struggled to keep my thoughts from wandering to things I would love to do with her. Images of teasing her, just like she often teases me, filled my mind. Undeniably sínful thoughts clouded my brain until I finally noticed my sister walk in, her presence punctuatéd by a throat clearing.
“You sure you want to rúin her?” Rory asked, her tone mocking. “Because it looks like the opposite is happening.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.
“Yeah, right. It’s pretty obvious you like her, given the way you look at her.”
“And how exactly do I look at her?”
“Like you are hungry, and it’s not for food.”
I am.
“Stop this now while you still have a chance to get away unscathed.” Though we were whispering to avoid waking the sleeping beauty, her words echoed in my ears.
TBC📖✍️
