INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings – Episode 120
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Genevieve ~
“Wait—so you’re saying you wouldn’t mind at all if he proposed to you?” Everett asked, sounding absolutely scandalised. I gave a small nod, and that only seemed to wind him up further. “As in marry him?”
“Everett, yes. I am aware of what a proposal entails.”
He’d been on this topic relentlessly for nearly two weeks now, ever since he’d officially met Dominic. If it wasn’t ‘Why the héll are you with him?’, it was ‘Do you know he wants to make you his wife?’—always delivered with a grimace like he’d bitten into something sour.
“What do you even see in him?” he asked, his exasperation thick and unyielding, wrapping itself tight around the words.
A smile crept unbidden across my lips. “What do I see in Dominic?” I could feel the warmth spreading across my face as thoughts of him drifted in like sunlight. “Alright, listen carefully, because I’m not saying this again. Dominic might not look like a good man—but he is. Beneath all that ‘pretentious gentleman’ behaviour you always mock,” I added with a chuckle, “he’s kind. Genuinely kind. Sweet. Thoughtful. Gentle.”
“Are we still talking about the same Dominic Morozov?” he deadpanned. “Because I’m fairly certain ‘kind’, ‘sweet’, and—what was the other one?—‘gentle’ shouldn’t be used in the same breath as him.”
“Well, they are.” My voice came out sharper than intended. “Dominic is all of that and more. He’s been there for me in ways no one else has. Doesn’t that mean something? That your sister is happy—doesn’t that matter to you?”
He went silent. For a moment, he just stared at me. The tension in Liam’s flat suddenly thickened, like a fog settling between us. Then he sank down beside me on the worn sofa, sighing as he did.
“Listen… it’s not that I’m not happy for you. I am. Truly. I’ve never seen that light in your eyes shine this brightly before.” His voice was soft but carried weight, like each syllable was carefully chosen. “But how do you expect me to just stand by and watch the same man who broke my little sister’s heart be the one to make it beat again?”
I turned towards him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were full—of worry, of doubt… of fear.
“I was there, Dove. When you became someone I barely recognised. When the heartbreak consumed you. I was the one who sat beside you as you lay in bed, too shattered to speak. I heard your cries—you thought you were whispering, but I heard every broken sound.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “All I wanted was to fix it, to make you feel better, but you gave me nothing but those hollow, practised smiles. I nearly flew back here to knock him flat—but you begged me not to. Begged. You even made Adrianna and Xavier promise not to interfere. So we didn’t. We kept our distance. And now he’s back in your life and I’m supposed to just… accept it?”
The memories came flooding in—China, cold and distant. That first month when I’d cried myself to sleep nearly every night, when my chest physically ached. The weight of those nights pressed down on me now.
“You’re blinded by love,” Everett murmured, shaking his head before I could say anything more. “And I’m terrifiéd I’ll have to watch you fall apart again.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“You can’t be certain of that.”
“I can,” I shot back, more forcefully than I intended. His eyes widened slightly. “This time, I know. He loves me. He won’t húrt me again.”
“He didn’t seem to struggle the first time,” Everett said quietly, his words like a kñife wrapped in velvet. Calm, but cutting. “What makes you think he won’t do it again?”
I stood up so suddenly the sofa creaked beneath me. “I don’t know, alright? I don’t know! Blóody héll, Everett!” My hands clenched by my sides. “If you hàte him so much, then why are you with his sister?”
“Because Aurora’s nothing like him,” he answered simply.
I exhaled, long and heavy, as the argument drained the air from my lungs. “Alright, fine. Let’s say you’re right. But can’t we at least agree he’s not the villàin you think he is?” When he didn’t respond, I let out a frustrated hiss. “Please, Ever. If not friends, then just… be civil. For me.”
“Dove—”
“Please, Everett.”
He hesitated, then gave in with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll try. Just for you. And maybe… for Rory.”
My smile was instant and genuine. “You know, I like you with Rory.”
He mirrored my smile. “Yeah. I like me with her too.”
“She makes you happy.”
“She really does.” His expression softened. The smile that followed was the most real I’d seen since… well, since before her. The One Who Shall Not Be Named. “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve her.”
“You do,” I said firmly. “The universe wouldn’t have given her to you otherwise. And if you break her heart, Dominic will kíll you.”
He laughed, low and genuine. “Your double standards are honestly something else.”
“Oh, this isn’t double standards,” I smirked.
“No?”
“No. This is survival instinct.”
Before he could quip back, the sharp ding of my phone snapped my attention towards the coffee table. My chest tightened. I already knew it was bàd—there was something about the sound that felt like a harbinger.
It was a message from Echo.
Not a private one. The group chat she’d added me to—with Rory, Sal, Blade… and me.
Echo: Blade got out.
Three words.
Just three words. And yet they knocked the wind out of me.
“I’m not stuck. I’m simply biding my time.”
His voice echoed in my head. Blade’s words. Blade’s promise.
Had his time come?
What happens now?
The air turned poisonóus, thick with dréad. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. My lungs rebelled, my mind spiralling.
“Dove?” Everett’s voice pulled me out, grounding me. His brows furrowed as he studied my face. “What is it?”
“Cora. She, um… just broke up with her boyfriend.”
The lie came too easily. Too smooth. But I latched onto it like a lifeline.
“That’s why you look like someone just threaténed you?” he asked, unconvinced. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
It is a thréat. A threàt to the Bràtva. To Dominic. To Rory. To all of us. If Blade finds Him—if “He” wants the Bràtva as Blade claimed—then we’re all in the crosshairs.
“It sort of is,” I said quickly, keeping my tone light. “Heartbroken Cora isn’t exactly a walk in the park.”
Please believe me. Just this once.
“Well, alright. I should get going anyway—give you space to deal with her.” Everett rose from the sofa, patting his pockets as he checked for his phone. “Take care of yourself, alright? And for God’s sake, pick up your phone when I ring.”
“I will,” I promised. “You too.”
He nodded and kissed my temple before heading out, the door clicking softly behind him.
And just like that, I was alone—with three words that changed everything.
••
The drive to Dominic’s house had passed in a haze. One moment I was bidding my brother goodbye, the next I was dressed, heart hammering in my chest as I sped through the streets with barely a thought, adrenaline making my hands tremble on the steering wheel.
“Did you get the text?” It was the first thing I said the moment I stepped across the threshold into his room.
He looked up from the soft glow of his laptop screen and gave a single, curt nod.
“What do you reckon will happen now?” I asked, though I already knew he wouldn’t have the answer. “Where do you think he’s gone?”
Dominic’s gaze lifted again. He gave a subtle wave of his fingers—come here. My feet felt like lead, but I forced them to move. I crossed the room and sank onto the bed beside him, the mattress dipping beneath us. The weight of my panic settled like a second skin around my shoulders, tight and suffocating.
“He didn’t go home—his house,” he said quietly, voice devoid of emotion. “And if I knew what his next move was, I wouldn’t be sat here, Vixen.”
I gave a slow nod and turned my eyes to the screen. “What are you doing?”
Blade was there—on-screen, seated and handcuffed to a chair. His face, bruised and bloódied by Dexter’s fists, was already beginning to heal. But his eyes burñed, focused intently on the CCTV camera perched on the far wall. The footage was dated for the night before.
“How the héll did he get out?”
“I don’t know, my love.”
I dragged my fingers across my cheek, brushing back the loose strands that had slipped from my ponytail. “So what are you watching now?”
“I feel like I’m missing something vital, Genevieve. And it’s driving me màd. It’s right in front of me, but I can’t blóody see it.”
I reached for his free hand, and he sighed the moment our fingers touched. He threaded his through mine and lifted them, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand.
“I hate this,” he muttered. “I can’t think straight. I can’t focus. I can’t even carve out time for you. The Bràtva’s in a mess—it’s like everything’s crumbling around me.”
I should have said something—anything—but no words came. I kept staring at the screen.
At Blade.
Something about him held me càptive. The smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes. The slight tilt of his head. And—most of all—the repetitive tap tap of his fingers on his thigh, hidden beneath the table.
“Dom.” My voice came out as a whisper, so faint I barely heard it myself.
I couldn’t look away. The tapping… it wasn’t just a nervous tic. The longer I watched, the more it began to feel deliberate.
Like a message.
“His fingers… Look at his fingers,” I said again, this time louder, my voice quick and clipped. “That tapping—it’s odd, isn’t it?”
“Odd how?”
“Odd as in—it doesn’t feel random. Like he’s trying to tell us something.”
Dominic turned to me, his eyes scanning mine, searching for logic or maybe signs I’d lost the plot. Then, without a word, he looked back at the screen.
“Tell us what, exactly?”
“Like a code.”
That got his attention. His focus sharpened instantly. He leaned forward slightly, as though the shift would help him see clearer. “A code?”
“Have you checked his house?”
“Yeah. I went with Dexter and Echo, took a few of the lads. We turned the place over.”
“Find anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Then this tapping—it’s a message. And whatever it is, it’s hidden there. In his house.”
“But why would he give us a code if he’s working for someone else?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he was ordered to. Or maybe…” I faltered, the words sticking in my throat.
“You’re one of the clever ones.” Blade’s voice echoed in my head.
“Or maybe what?” Dominic pressed.
I met his gaze. “Maybe Blade’s still with the Bràtva.”
“Gen—”
“I know how it sounds. I know it’s fóolish. But that’s what my gut’s telling me. That’s what my heart’s screaming.”
“And what’s your head saying?”
“That we need to get to Blade’s house. Now. If he wants us to find something, it must matter—to you. To the Bràtva. And if someone else sees the code first, whatever he’s trying to show us… it could be lost.”
“But I don’t even see the bloódy thing.”
“Look properly,” I urged. “Just… look.”
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
The silence between us was heavy, thick with concentration. Then, slowly, Dominic’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “I can see it.”
“What is it?”
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
“Two. Two. Three. One. One. Four.” His voice was quiet but steady, eyes gleaming with something close to relief. “Thank—”
His phone rang.
It was right beside me on the bed, and I caught the name before he picked it up.
Dexter.
He snatched it up and stood, posture shifting into something harder, colder. The voice he used was the one I knew from the Base. The Don’s voice.
“Yes?”
He listened in silence, eyes narrowing. A few seconds passed.
“I just saw it too. Meet me there?”
Another pause. Then he cursed softly. “No, tell her to stay back.” A beat of silence. “Fine. Let her come.”
He ended the call and turned to me, eyes dark and assessing.
“Do you want to come with me?”
“To Blade’s house?”
He nodded.
“Yeah,” I said, heart already thudding harder. “Yeah, I do.”
TBC📖✍️
