INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings – Episode 48
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Genevieve ~
Today was the day.
The day when I would finally confess my feelings to Dominic, and if I told you I wasn’t nervous, it would be the biggest fib in the history of fibs.
Nervousness was practically throwing a party, wreaking havoc through my entire system as I watched the minutes crawl by.
No, honestly, I was glued to my wristwatch almost every second, which meant I missed half of what the teachers were droning on about in class.
I’ve always disliked school, but today it was particularly unbearable, being the only thing standing between me and revealing my feelings to Dominic. The more I watched the clock, the more it seemed to taunt me, moving at a snail’s pace.
“Hey, aren’t you coming out for break?” Jules stood in front of my desk, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder as she tilted her head. I twitched my lips to the side and shook my head in response. “Why not?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, that’s just not possible. You’re always hungry.”
I raised a single eyebrow, silently questioning her, ‘Really?’ She nodded in affirmation. “Jules.”
“What? It’s not as if I’m lying or anything,” she said. “But seriously, why don’t you want to eat?”
“Nothing, really. I’m just nervous about…”
Julianna was my best friend, and with that title came a certain level of perceptiveness, so I didn’t need to elaborate before understanding dawned on her face.
“Well, if you’re planning to do it this evening, I suggest you eat something, or you might faint before you even get the chance.”
That made sense.
I was rather cross with my mother—when am I ever not?—so I hadn’t had breakfast with her before heading to school this morning. So yes, there was a distinct possibility I might pass out today.
Jules stretched out her hand to me, and after giving her a smile, I took hers and stood up. “You know, I love you dearly,” I told her.
“Yeah, I know, and I love you too, immensely,” she replied as we made our way out of the classroom. “If you can say it so easily to me, I bet it won’t be hard to say it to you-know-who.”
“That’s entirely different thing.”
“How so?”
“You’re my best friend, and he is… I don’t quite know how to put it, but I’m sure you understand.”
Jules shook her head in mock confusion as we continued our stroll to the cafeteria. “I really don’t.”
“You’re just winding me up.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend you could annoy instead?”
Just as she was about to respond, someone bumped into me, causing the books I was holding, along with my MacBook, to tumble to the floor. To make matters worse, the person also happened to be holding a red drink, which promptly splattered all over my white shirt and my belongings. My gaze immediately darted to the culprít, and upon seeing her unapologetic expression, I let out an exasperated scoff.
“Oops,” the wretchéd girl said with a casual shrug.
“Oops?” I echoed incredulously, glaring daggers at her. “Are you f+cking kidding me?”
“Relax, Genevieve. Mistakes happen.”
Her audacity was almost comical. I gave her a thorough, disdain-filled once-over, which she mirrored with a smug smirk. Her entourage, Cheryl and Clara, flanked her on either side, giggling at her ridiculousness as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
By now, a crowd of nosy students had gathered around us, clearly eager for some entertainment. Julianna was holding me back, well aware of what might transpire if she didn’t, given the type of person Margot was.
“When mistakes happen, as you so rightly said, you apologise. That’s the decent thing to do, Maggot.” At the mention of her nickname, she shot me a glare. “Or weren’t you taught that at home?”
“Oh, I was taught manners because I have parents who actually stay at home, unlike you.”
If she thought her words would have the slightest effect on me, she was sorely mistaken.
“I don’t need my parents at home to have good manners and a sense of decency. It’s quite unfortunate that despite having parents who laze about at home, your manners still leave much to be desired.”
“Take that back!” Margot snapped.
“No,” I retorted. “Who on earth do you think you are to demand anything from me after ruiníng my uniform and my belongings?”
“If I replace them, will you stop yapping?”
Now I couldn’t help but laugh; it was utterly ridiculous. “You? Replace my things? Oh please, I don’t need your money. In case you’ve forgotten, I am a King.”
“There you go again, using your last name as a bloódy ticket to luxury.”
“Aww, don’t be jealous because my surname can actually get me places, unlike yours.” I stepped closer to her, looked her straight in the eye, and said, “You are going to apologise to me publicly, whether you like it or not.”
Margot chuckled. “I’d love to see you try.”
••
Once again, I found myself in the presence of Mariah King, but this time with her dad, Henry—who is also my granddad—and my own dad, Kyle. They were all seated on the sofa in the living room when I walked in a few minutes ago.
I swear, I could hardly stop myself from rolling my eyes at the sight of them, all looking at me as if I were one colossal disappointment. Well, except my dad, who looked at me as though he completely understood.
“What happened today at school, Dove?” That was my grandfather; that’s what he calls me. I said nothing, merely twitching my lips. “I’m certain I just asked a question.”
Yes, that’s where my mother gets it from. You know what they say: like father, like daughter.
“Didn’t the person who told you share the full story?” I breathed, earning an unimpressed and more disappointed look from my dear grandpapa. “Why do you need a retelling?”
Most people love and dote on their grandparents, but I belong to the minority of people on Earth who don’t feel that way about mine. They raised my mother, after all, and she grew up to be their complete replica.
I mean, my grandma can be quite cool when she wants to be, unlike my granddad, who is never cool. I didn’t enjoy spending time with them as a child, and I certainly don’t enjoy it now.
“I see you’re still being a br@t,” Henry King snapped.
“And I see you’re still utterly uncaring,” I shot back.
“You think I don’t care?” That was obviously a rhetorical question, so I didn’t feel the need to respond. He stood up and stepped in front of me. “The fact that your last name can open doors for you everywhere you go proves that I do care about you. I worked my arse off my entire life to provide for the family that follows me, only for you to do everything possible to tarnish the name and my reputation.”
“I am not sorry,” I replied honestly. “I wasn’t at fault. I don’t go around causing trouble; I have far more important things to do with my time, like reading a book or avoiding other human beings—God knows how much I love doing that. That girl messed with me.”
“What did she do?” I turned my head towards my father, as the question had come from him.
“She bumped into me, spilled drink all over my white uniform shirt, and didn’t even apologise for it,” I explained. “And then she had the audacity to say I wasn’t raised properly because my parents weren’t home to do so. Wasn’t that enough reason to slam her head against the wall?”
“Genevieve,” my mother scolded, standing beside her father. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Even when there’s a godforsàken, idiotíc girl spouting rubbish about my parents? I can hardly believe this. I truly can’t.” I shot back at her, then turned my head sharply towards Henry. “And being a King isn’t the be-all and end-all. You lot were never here when I truly needed you as a child, so don’t attempt to correct my ‘wayward’ ways now; it’s far too late.”
I sidestepped my mother, intending to dash up to my room, freshen up, and escape this place. But, as always, Mariah knew how to ruiñ my life.
“You’re grounded, young lady.” Her voice boomed throughout the living room, causing me to halt at the base of the spiral staircase and glare at her. “You aren’t allowed to go anywhere except school for the rest of the week, and if that doesn’t instil a sense of pride in your surname or help you appreciate the family you come from enough to properly respect it, then I’ll ensure you receive the appropriate punishmeñt.”
This wasn’t my first time being grounded, but I was surprised it was still a thing in this household, considering it hadn’t been mentioned or enforced in years. I let out a dramatic huff and stormed straight to my room, making sure to slam the door behind me.
“Well done, Genevieve,” Mariah King shouted from downstairs, eliciting a smirk of satisfaction from me because I got the exact reaction I was looking for. “Why don’t you just go ahead and break it off completely?”
..
I sank my weary body into the bathtub filled with bubbles. The only illumination in the dimly lit bathroom came from the scented candles I had placed around the tub, filling the air with that floral aroma I adored.
With all the frustration bubbling within me, I attempted to practice my breathing exercises until the ringing of my phone decided to interrupt my moment of zen. But glancing at the screen, I couldn’t help but feel warmth at the sight of the caller.
Swiping my damp finger across the screen, I answered the call. A smile spread across my face before I said, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Dominic responded. “How’s your day going? Why aren’t you here yet?”
“I’m grounded.”
“Why? Is it because of what happened at school?”
I didn’t ponder how he had learned about the events earlier that day; I merely assumed he was being his usual self.
“Yes. Apparently, I’m the one at fault in my mother’s eyes.”
“And you didn’t explain it to her?”
“Of course I did; she just chose to believe an outsider over her own daughter. I’m sorry for not being able to come today.”
“That’s fine.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, then an idea struck me—an absolutely brilliant idea. “Dominic?”
“Yeah?”
“I need your help.”
I could sense his surprise, as I had never once asked for his assistance before. I didn’t need to see his face to know the expression he was wearing right now, although I would give anything to see him at this moment.
There was a pause on the other end until Dominic finally replied, “Sure, Vixen. What do you need?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, I answered, “I want Margot to pay for what she did to me today.”
I could envision him running his fingers through his hair, a teasing smirk playing on his lips even though we were miles apart; that’s how well I knew him. “Are you asking me to kíll her?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“Oh, I thought you were hiring me as an assàssin.”
“Nope, I don’t want her nasty bloód on my hands. I just need her to understand who she’s messing with.”
“Tell me what you want me to do to her, Vixen.” His tone made his words sound like a promise without any actual commitment.
It sent pleasant shivers down my spine and lifted the corners of my lips into a wide smile. My cheeks flushed, and I shook my head as if that would help quell my blushing.
The next words that tumbled from my mouth proved to me that Dominic Morozov is indeed the worst influence on me—and that I ought to steer clear of him. Yet, like Eve, I am drawn to the forbidden.
“I want you to rip the Larson family of every single penny they possess.” I articulated each word carefully to the one person I knew would fulfil my every request.
Silverlake Academy is a peculiar school for many reasons, one of which is that they require students to pay their exam fees a week before the tests commence. And ladies and gentlemen, that’s my plan—to ensure Maggot doesn’t pay until it’s a bit too late.
Isn’t that brilliantly devióus?
“Are you certain that’s all you want?” Dominic asked.
I smirked. “Yes. At least, for now. I want to remind her of her place.”
By the time I’m done with her, she’ll know never to cross my path again. She’ll regret the day she decided to declare herself my enémy, and I won’t even need to lay a finger on her.
That is simply perfect.
“Yeah? Because she messed with you?”
“Messing with me was one of her offences; dragging my parents into it was another, but claiming I use my surname as a ticket was the final straw.”
“But you do use your surname as a ticket; she wasn’t wrong.”
“You do, too.”
Dominic chuckled. “Not quite the same thing, Love. I worked for everything I have.”
Love?
He just called me Love?
Screaming might make it awkward, wouldn’t it?
I cleared my throat as if I had something lodged there. “Well, it wasn’t my fault I was born into the King household, and it’s also not my fault her parents aren’t half as wealthy as mine. So yes, I love my surname and will continue to take pride in it.”
That might have been the first time I openly admitted that.
“So, will you do it?” I pressed.
“Rip the Larsons of their little wealth? For you, yes.”
Is he trying to make me blush to death in this bloody bath? He ought to ease off a bit.
“Tonight?” I asked again.
“Tonight?” Dominic echoed, shock evident in his voice.
“Yes, Dominic.” I confirmed, staring at my fingers as they played with the foam on my chest. “I need it done before tomorrow. Please, do something.”
“I don’t know, Genevieve. I’ll see what Echo can manage.”
I nearly leapt out of the tub in sheer excitement as I exclaimed, “Really?” to which he positively hummed in response. “Thank you. I love…” I abruptly clamped my mouth shut, stopping myself from making a blunder over the phone.
“You love what, Vixen?” He sounded expectant, as if he knew exactly what I was about to say and was waiting for it.
Perhaps I am overthinking this, as per usual.
“I love having you as a friend.” That was the quickest cover-up I could conjure after racking my brain for several seconds. Ignoring the pang of regret in my heart for the half-lie, half-truth, I added, “You’re a really good friend.”
“Yeah, you too.” Dominic muttered quietly. “I suppose we won’t be seeing each other today.”
“For the week, actually.”
“What?”
“I’ve been grounded.”
“Yeah, I know that, but why a week?” Now, he sounded genuinely curious and perhaps a bit anxious at the thought of us not being able to see each other. “That’s far too long.”
“Aww, you miss me already.” My grin was so wide I feared it might split my face. “Dominic Morozov misses me; it should be headline news, don’t you think?”
“No.”
“Cheer up. I’ll miss you too, if that’s any consolation.”
We chatted throughout my bath and continued talking as I prepared to start studying. When I finally hung up, I realised we had spent two hours and fifteen minutes talking and laughing about practically nothing.
That night, I slept like a baby, knowing tomorrow would be one héck of a good day.
TBC
