INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings – Episode 95
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Genevieve’s POV
“Oh.” I murmured, my gaze fixed on the work unfolding before me. “Yeah, it’s alright.” I nodded absentmindedly at the person who had just asked me a question, my mind elsewhere.
“Are you sure?” A voice—deep, familiar, and completely unexpected—cut through the air behind me. “Maybe you should double-check.”
I spun around so fast that my own momentum nearly sent me toppling. But before gravity could claim its victory, strong hands gripped my waist, steadying me. The warmth of them, firm yet gentle, sent a jolt through me.
I blinked, once, twice—just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. But no, he was really here. Liam, in the flesh, standing before me with that signature lopsided grin.
“Judging by your silence, I’d say you’re happy to see me.” His voice was drenched in amusement. “Or maybe it’s because I look particularly dashing today?” He winked.
The ridiculousness of it had me rolling my eyes before I smacked his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, so you’re not happy to see me?” Liam feigned a pout, his voice teasing.
“I am,” I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could help it. “You know I am. I’m just… surprised. Yesterday, you were in Argentina.”
“Yeah, but I had a flight last night.”
Liam is a pilot. I never truly understood how busy they were until I had a pilot for a friend. He’s constantly on the move, barely catching a break.
“And what are you doing here?” I asked, arms crossed.
“I should be asking you that.” His gaze sharpened. “You’re working—for him?” I nodded, feigning nonchalance. “For Dominic Morozov.”
“Yes, Liam, for Dominic Morozov.” My voice dropped. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
Other than a thousand and one?
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he broke your heart?” His voice softened, concern evident.
My stomach twisted. I felt my expression darken.
“Vie,” he murmured, tone gentle, “why are you doing this?”
“Cora.” The name left my lips in barely more than a whisper, but he heard. He opened his mouth to speak, but then something clicked in my brain. “Wait—how did you know I was here?”
“The news.”
My heart dropped.
Oh no. That means Ria, Xavier, Jules—and even Alessio—already know.
“You didn’t actually think Genevieve King—the granddaughter of Henry King and the recently highest-paid young lawyer—would start working for Dominic Morozov and no one would find out, did you?”
Is it stupíd that I did?
Shít.
That also means my mother knows I’ve been back for days and have yet to see her. This can’t be good.
I might be twenty-five and a lawyer, but I still very much fear that woman. I’d do anything to avoid a confrontation with her.
“Oh, you did, didn’t you?” Liam looked positively gleeful. “How does it feel not being the smart one this time?”
“Hey!” I whisper-yelled, faking a frown. “I’m not not smart, okay? It just… slipped my mind.”
“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes, an exaggerated motion that had me gasping. “I totally believe you.”
“You are such a jérk.”
“A good-looking jérk.” He took a step back and spread his arms. “And yet, you haven’t even complimented my outfit.”
Our friendship is strange, isn’t it? Back in secondary school, I couldn’t stand Liam. And now? Now, I can stand close enough to him to count his eyelashes without gagging.
We even went to university together. Surprise, surprise.
“You look… okay.” I shrugged, knowing it would get on his nerves.
He gasped—very dramatically. “Just okay? Not ‘ravishing’? ‘Extremely hot’? ‘So good you can’t take your eyes off me’? Very bad, Genny. Very bad.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and before I knew it, I was laughing—a real, deep, belly laugh. The first I’d had in days.
It felt exhilarating. Like breathing in crisp morning air after a long, suffocating night.
Liam was beaming, his emerald-green eyes gleaming. Until they flicked upward. And then everything changed.
Curious, I turned to see what—or who—had snatched the joy from his face.
Dominic.
He stood on the second floor, staring—no, glaring—at Liam. His whiskey-hued eyes burned, his focus razor-sharp on the hand I still had on Liam’s shoulder.
Pissed was an understatement. He looked seconds away from either exploding or imploding—maybe both.
And I?
I felt something dangeroúsly close to satisfaction.
Seeing him like this—tense, jealous, barely restraining himself—warmed me in ways I couldn’t quite explain.
Those infuriatingly gorgeous eyes of his were a mirror, revealing every emotion he tried—and failed—to hide from me.
And oh, how I ate it up. Because one thing was clear: Dominic Morozov still had feelings for me.
And being the generous soul that I am, I’ll make sure he pays dearly for hurtíng me. After all, I’m Genevieve King. And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make him suffer, now, would I?
“Since I’m in London with you, we can finally have that dinner date we talked about. What do you say?”
My eyes flicked back to Liam, though my mind still lingered on the man behind me. “Yeah, sure.” I smiled. “How long are you here for?”
“Not more than a week.” His smile dimmed, exhaustion creeping into his eyes. “My schedule is insane—you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Then rest tonight. We’ll do the date tomorrow.”
He nodded. “When do you get off work? I can pick you up.”
Not soon enough.
I didn’t say that. Instead, I scoffed. “No, it’s fine. I brought my car. Let’s just meet at home.”
Yes, you heard that right.
I’m crashing at Liam’s place for the next thirty days. I didn’t want to intrude on Ria and Jules’ privacy, and going back home to face Mariah King? Absolutely not. Liam was my last resort—but also my best option.
“Alright.” He nodded, then spread his arms wide. I tilted my head, feigning ignorance. “Come on, give me my hug.”
I chuckled but stepped into his embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. The warmth of his arms wrapped around me, steady and reassuring. When we pulled away, his gaze flicked to where Dominic had been moments ago. Instinctively, I followed his line of sight—but Dominic was gone.
“Be good, alright?” Liam’s green eyes bore into mine, searching for a promise.
I gave a small nod—barely noticeable, but enough. He saw it and smiled.
“Bye, Vie.”
“Bye, Liam.”
The moment he disappeared through the doors, I spun on my heel, my gaze snapping back up to the second floor.
Empty.
A frown tugged at my lips as the realization hit me like a bowling ball to the chest.
He must be with ‘Love,’ chatting and smiling—or maybe on the phone with ‘Rory,’ laughing like nothing else in the world mattered.
Aurora.
For Pete’s sake, her name is Aurora! He never shortened my name. Not before we dated, not when we were together.
And no, I am not mad!
Okay, fine. I am.
But it’s fine.
I’m fine!
••
I was alone in the employees’ lounge—part coffee room, part resting area—surveying the space to see what needed changing when, quite suddenly, I wasn’t alone anymore.
Dominic.
I sensed him before I even turned around. The air shifted, thickened, crackling with the static of his presence. And there he was—tall, impossibly handsome, with a single strand of his long, dark hair resting against his eyelashes, teasing his cheek as he blinked it away.
“Why was he here?” His voice was low, taut, his lips pulled into a scowl.
“Who?”
Of course, I knew exactly who he was referring to. But where was the fun in this if I didn’t make him súffer a little first?
Dominic stepped forward, his long stride devouring the space between us in an instant. The sheer force of his movement nearly made me step back.
“Don’t ‘who’ me, Genevieve,” he warned, his frown deepening. “You know who. So tell me—why the fúck was he here?”
“Language, Mr Morozov.”
His scowl darkened, frustration simmering in his eyes, the añger he’d been holding back for three days now threateñing to spill over.
“And it’s Ms King,” I added, purely to irritate him.
He took another step forward. This time, I did step back.
“I’ll call you whatever I bloódy well want. Do you understand that?”
The professionalism I was desperately clinging to was slipping through my fingers like sand, impossible to hold onto. “No,” I replied, my voice, thankfully, steady. “You will address me the way I wish to be addressed. You don’t want to test me.”
“What if I do?” Dominic challenged, moving closer still. The space between us was shrinking—and so were my lungs. “What if I’m curious to see what happens when I push?”
I stepped back again, my gaze locked with his, held there by sheer force of will. My chest rose and fell at an uneven rhythm, dictated entirely by him.
“And I’ll ask again—what was he doing here?”
“I’ll tell him not to come again. Is that fine?”
“That’s not an answer to the question I asked.”
“That’s the answer you’re getting.”
“Genevieve.” His voice snapped like a whip, his palms slamming against the concrete wall behind me. And just like that, I was pinned—trapped—not by his touch but by his presence, his intensity, the way he occupied every inch of the space around me.
He wouldn’t touch me. He wouldn’t dare—not when he was doing everything in his power to claw his way back into my good graces. But his self-control was faltering.
I could see it in his eyes, in the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly before he clenched them into fists and shoved them into his pockets. I could read him as easily as I always had.
And I would be a fóol not to use it to my advantage.
His lashes fluttered as he blinked, and our gazes locked again. God, how he longed to know what I was thinking.
But I wouldn’t let him in. Not again.
“Get off.”
Two words. Strong. Commanding.
“No.”
One word. Stubborn. Infuriating.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and him.”
“And what does your mind tell you about Liam and me?” He said nothing. “Whatever it is, you’re right—plus a million times better.”
His hands fell from the wall, his posture slackening ever so slightly. A flicker of something crossed his face—something raw, something that looked suspiciously like despair.
I, on the other hand, exhaled sharply and stepped past him to leave the room. But then he spoke again, and his words stopped me deád in my tracks.
“Is that who you replaced me with? Or is there more on the side?” I turned back to him, genuine fury igniting in my chest. Our eyes met again, his filled with paiñ. “And does he know about them?”
It happened before I could think—before I could stop myself. My hand shot up, and I slapped him hard across the face.
Only when the haze of añger lifted slightly did I realise just how hard I had hit him. His head was turned sharply to the side, his cheek flushed with the force of it.
Now wasn’t the time to wallow in guilt or regret my actions—because I was still absolutely livid.
How dare he imply that I flitted from one man to another?
Who the héll did he think I was? Some cheap tàrt with no self-respect?
“Replace you?” My vision clouded with crimson fury as my feet carried me towards him. “I replaced you? Did you bàng your head and forget something, or are you just intent on spewing absolute rubbísh?”
Dominic’s gaze burned with restrained rage, darkening like an impending storm poised to unleash its wrath. Shock flickered across his features, as if he were genuinely stunned that I had slapped him.
“And what exactly did you expect?” My voice shook with raw anger. “That I’d stay single, pining away, mourning your loss? That I wouldn’t find someone better than you?” I was incandescent with fury. “That after years of not seeing you, the moment we crossed paths again, I’d come running into your arms, confessing my undying love? Is that it?”
I needed to stop before I said something truly regrettable. I needed to walk away and not look back—not until I was miles away from him.
Our gazes locked, neither of us blinking, the tension between us electric. There was so much he wanted to say, but he swallowed the words.
“And even if I were a whóre, as you’re so artfully implying,” I paused, tilting my head slightly, my voice dripping with venóm, “I fail to see how it’s any of your concern. What happens between me and Liam is none of your business either.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Yes.” I snapped. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving. I have no interest in continuing this ridiculoús conversation.”
I turned on my heel, marching towards the door. But Dominic was faster. In the blink of an eye, his fist was wrapped around the doorknob, barring my escape.
“But I want to have this conversation.” His voice was low, measured, dangeroús. It was the first full sentence he’d said since I slapped him, and God, how I wanted to do it again. “So, let’s have it.”
“Mr Morozov,” my patience was fraying like an overused thread, “move.”
“No.”
“No?” The word felt foreign, absurd. “No?!”
“So, is Liam your boyfriend?” Dominic asked, his tone laced with mockery as he blatantly ignored my demand. “That’s the best you could do?” His laugh was hollow, completely devoid of humour. “Liam?”
“Move.” I repeated, my voice razor-sharp.
“No.”
I was losing it.
I was blóody losing it.
He hummed thoughtfully, as though struck by a sudden idea. “Is it just him? Or were there others after me?”
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Don’t let him win.
In.
Out.
Do not let him win.
“Are you asking if I’ve dated another insufferable bastàrd besides you?” I cut in, my voice saccharine with mock innocence. “The answer is no. You were quite the specialist in that department. I don’t think anyone else could surpass your expertise.”
He smiled, but it was hollow. “Oh.”
The walls seemed to close in around me, pressing in, suffocating. The air grew thick, resisting my attempts to inhale it.
Exhaling sharply, I asked, “Can I leave now?”
“No.”
“For God’s sake, why are you acting like this? You’re not a child, so stop behaving like one. Move.”
“Who says I’m not a child?”
“Your age.”
He made a thoughtful sound, then grinned, his eyes gleaming with something unspoken. “Hmmm… I rather enjoy acting like a child. It’s quite fun, really. You should give it a go.”
“No, thank you.”
He pouted. “Are you sure?”
What in the actual héll?
“Very.” My voice was clipped, my patience long deàd and buried. “Now, move.”
A mischievous smirk curled his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief. I knew what was coming before he even spoke.
“No.”
“Dominic!” I realised my mistake too late—the name had already slipped from my lips, and there was no way to take it back.
Dàmn it.
His smirk widened, smug satisfaction radiating off him. “Yes, Vixen.”
He’d won.
TBC📖✍️
