Dark Cravings: You’re Mine Step-cousin

Chapter 1

Clarissa.

“Congratulations. You have been accepted into the Elites Institution of Atlanta.”

I blinked at the message again on my phone screen, barely breathing. I always told myself I’d rewrite my own story someday by working hard and not by having my test scores stolen and resold like cheap candy.

My heart flickered in disbelief as the words glowed back at me like a second chance I didn’t think I deserved. Yes, I didn’t! Hard work paid off.

I've read it a third time ever since it was sent.

After all the rejections, the false hopes, the weeks of praying and scraping by, I’d finally been accepted. I had fought tooth and nail to get into a university in this city, one that was built for the children of senators, CEOs, and oil magnates. It was very difficult and an unexpected grace for me.

It wasn’t made for girls like me—low-class, ambitious, and barely recognized. My results had been “lost” twice, tampered with, and sold off to some rich politician’s daughter before I even got a fair shot. I knew how things worked around here. But what could I do?

But not this time.

This email was real. It had my name, my admission number, and everything I had dreamed about. And the best part?

I was going to attend it with the love of my life—Clinton.

Clinton and I had been betrothed to each other since childhood. Our parents were best friends and business partners. They always said we were meant for each other. I used to roll my eyes when we were younger, but somehow, we grew into it. It just worked. We shared secrets, dreams, and a future. Everything—I could vividly recall the day he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Today is our one-year anniversary. Our first anniversary as an official couple. I had gone to the mall after getting the admission email to buy him a gift, something small but thoughtful, and I knew he would love it.

I picked out a silver wristwatch with a little engraving at the back: “To forever, C & C.” I also got him flowers, even though I knew he’d laugh and say that was his job and flowers are for girls. I wanted to surprise him.

I held the watch box in one hand and the flowers in the other, smiling as I stepped into a taxi. We had an apartment together, one we managed to rent for school. I was so proud of that place. We cleaned it together, picking out every curtain, every mug, and every frame on the wall. I couldn’t wait to see his face when I surprised him.

But when I got to the building, something felt… wrong. I don’t know what it was, but I felt so odd.

The door was open.

Clinton never left the door open; it was unlike him. He was always paranoid about safety. Always locking everything and often nagging me if I forgot to bolt it behind me. Why will he leave it open? Is he not at home?

I stepped inside cautiously. The sitting room was quiet, and the silence was eerie.

“Clinton?” I called out, but I got no response.

I climbed the stairs slowly. The closer I got to our apartment, everywhere was just so quiet, and I felt uncomfortable. Was he out? No, it's not supposed to be so.

Clinton was supposed to be home because it's a special day for us. He’d promised this morning that he would be home. And today of all days, our anniversary, it wasn’t like him to disappear.

I gripped the gift bag tighter, my heart racing, but I didn't want to panic at all. Many thoughts ran through my mind, but I trust my Clinton. I pushed the bedroom door open. “Surprise!”

But it was me who stood frozen and got the worst surprise of my life instead.

He wasn't there; I held the gift box firmly and called. “Clinton??” No response still.

I was about to go downstairs to wait for him to return when something made me stop in my tracks. Beep! I heard a loud phone notification bing.

I froze and decided to ignore it, but my instincts kicked in immediately, and my eyes swept around the room, and that’s when I saw it.

Clinton’s phone, which was half hidden under his pillow… This is unlike him because he has never let his phone out of his sight ever since we have been together.

I didn't want to check his phone. He would scold me if I did. I hesitated as I took the phone. A part of me whispered to walk away. Another part, the part that had been filled with anxiety, reached for it anyway.

I scrolled through, and the screen was open on W******p. I know it's not good to check privacy, but I will. Clinton never left his phone lying around, and it's never unlocked. He guarded it like it contained state secrets, brushing me off with “personal reasons” whenever I teased him about it.

But now… there it was!

The phone binged again, and a message entered from a group chat, but the name on the group chat made my stomach twist. It was boldly written, “Win Her, The Newbie, and Become the Famous Guy on Campus.”

My thumb trembled as I tapped it, but the first thing I saw hit me like a punch to the ribs. I staggered back as hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

“She’s so sexy. So curvy. I’d have her tits for dinner.”

“She's so stupid to believe you.”

“She devoured those lips.”

These were messages from 3 boys in the group. My breath caught. My vision blurred instantly with tears because I scrolled up with shaking hands wondering who the hell they could be talking about, and then… I saw the short video clip of me and Clinton kissing with my nude pictures, now flashing casually on a group chat like cheap gossip.

Tears slid down my cheeks before I even realized I was crying. My chest hurt so bad I pressed my hand over it, as if that could stop the ache. Clinton did this? I trusted him!

Just immediately another message appeared, this one from the group admin. “”Gladys”—wait, a girl is managing the group?

“Clinton, you did well finally getting her video for me to publicize. As the school superstar and most famous girl on campus, I’ll make sure you become famous. Don’t ever disclose the bet we had. She claims to be smart, but I’ll make sure she’s disqualified. No newbie on sponsorship is allowed on this campus unless she takes permission from me first.”

My fingers went cold, and I didn't even realize when the phone slipped from my hands, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

The bag dropped from my hand. The flowers scattered. The wristwatch box hit the ground with a soft thud. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

So all this time… all the I love you, late-night calls, and promises for the future. Was it a lie?

The door creaked behind me, but I didn’t have to turn to know it was him.

His footsteps were calm, and even his presence disgusted me at that moment. I turned slowly and faced him; my eyes were already puffy and red.

He didn’t look surprised to see the phone at my feet. He didn’t even look sorry.

Just that faint, cold smirk that told me everything. He already schemed for this to happen to get rid of me. His smirk sent a cold shiver down my spine.

“So…” he drawled, leaning slightly against the doorframe. “You finally know.”

I stared at him, my hands trembling at my sides. “When… when were you planning to tell me, Clinton? Or were you going to keep smiling in my face while…” My voice cracked; I couldn’t control my tears. “...while passing our private video around like some trophy?”

But he just laughed out sarcastically and remained silent. He disgusts me!

“Clinton… What the hell is going on?” I choked out, covering my mouth with my trembling fingers.

He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Clarissa, what do you think is going on? I’ve been meaning to tell you. I don’t want this anymore. I want to break up.”

His smirk deepened, and he stepped closer. “Clarissa… you really thought I loved you?”

I stared at him, blinking away tears that stung the back of my eyes. “W-What? Break up? Clinton… It’s our anniversary. I was thinking that the reason why you didn’t talk or wish me about it is because you have a surprise too, but….”

His eyes didn’t soften. Not even a flicker. “Yeah. About that… I didn’t say it because I have someone else who is much better than you. And I can’t keep pretending with you. I’ve moved on.”

I couldn’t believe that the man I loved for so many years betrayed me; my heart was heavy, and I couldn’t force back tears.

My stomach twisted. “What… what are you saying?”

He let out a short, almost mocking laugh. “I cared about you because you were useful. You were the golden ticket. The perfect tool to get me into this school.” His eyes were hard now and glaring. “You had the brains, the connections through your father’s sponsorship, the position as head girl in high school. Being with you made everything easier for me.”

I blinked, my vision blurring with tears. “Tool? Clinton, we grew up together. I…” My voice broke; I couldn’t even feel it anymore. “I loved you.”

“Loved?” His lips curled into a cold half-smile. “Clarissa, love doesn’t get you fame. Love doesn’t get you influence. Gladys does.”

Gladys? That was the group admin's name!

I wanted to talk, but he continued, “Yes, Gladys…the girl you saw as the group admin. She's the most famous girl on campus. I’ve been with her for three months now. She’s everything I want: status, spotlight, and connections that actually matter.”

“Don’t act surprised, Clarissa. You’re smart enough to know this school isn’t for fairy tales. You should’ve realized by now it’s survival. I just played the game better than you did.”

I swallowed hard, my chin trembling but my voice sharpening despite the tears. “You used me.”

His smile turned cruel. “And it worked. You're just a bet played.”

His words sliced through me. I cried harder, trying to make him see me. “You can’t just do this. We’ve been through everything together. Our parents…”

“I know,” he snapped. “But I don’t care anymore. I want something else. Someone else.”

Then, as if to make it worse, he bent down and picked up the gift box.

“Thanks for the flowers and the watch, though,” he said with a fake smile. “Really thoughtful, but you’re not needed anymore. Get out.”

I stood there, shaking. My chest burning in rage “I should have known you used me and after everything…left me for her! This is our apartment. How can you say that I should leave?”

He laughed coldly. “No, darling, you missed your words. It’s my apartment; remove the “our.” I paid for everything. You’re just a guest who overstayed her welcome.”

That was the final blow.

I lunged forward, snatched the gift box from his hand, and hurled it at the floor. The wristwatch shattered. Then I grabbed the flowers and crushed them under my heel.

“If I’m going out, then I’m taking back everything I brought in,” I hissed. “Go to hell, Clinton! I promise you’re going to regret this decision.”

I turned and walked out before he could even talk, head high, heart in pieces. The moment I stepped outside, I broke into the tears I was holding.

I collapsed under a tree beside the building, hugging my knees to my chest, sobbing so hard I couldn’t breathe. Clinton might have destroyed my heart, but I wouldn’t let him ruin my life.

I didn’t know where to go. I had no friends here. I was completely, painfully alone.

Then I remembered Alicia. My sister. She’s been living here for two months now, but I don’t know exactly where.

I fumbled for my phone with shaking fingers and called her.

“Hello?” she answered, her voice faint with static.

“Alicia…” I broke down. “Clinton… he betrayed me; I was just a bet. He threw me out.”

“Oh my God. Clarissa.” Her voice softened. “I told you about him. His social media posts? Always flirting, always shady. You wouldn’t listen.”

“I didn’t have anyone else,” I whispered. “Please… can I come stay with you?”

“Oh no! I’m not in town. I traveled for work. But you can stay at my place. I’ll send you the address.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Before I could hear what else she was saying, the line cut off. The network was gone.

But I didn’t care. I had a place to go.

I grabbed my bag, the only thing I managed to leave with, and followed her location pin. This is for the best, I told myself.

When I got there, the door was unlocked.

Weird. She said she was out of town. But maybe she forgot to lock it?

I stepped in, too exhausted to care. The apartment smelled like fresh wood and mint… and something else. A cologne. It wasn’t floral or feminine. It was strong. Spicy.

Definitely a man’s scent.

I didn’t question it. I just needed to clean up.

I stripped out of my sweat-soaked clothes and saw a shirt folded neatly on the couch. I sniffed it, and it smelled like the cologne. Without thinking, I slipped it over my head. It hung loosely, brushing my thighs.

I turned toward the stairs, only to crash into someone.

Strong. Shirtless, and his body was warm.

I gasped.

My hands landed on his bare chest, steadying myself.

And then I looked up.

God.

He is tall and muscular and has a cross tattoo on his chest. Smoldering blue eyes that locked straight into mine as the sunrays flashed on his eyes. Damn cute.

I froze. My breath hitched when I realized who it was.

Damien.

My step-cousin. My childhood crush. The one who left for the States years ago and never came back. Until now.

Did he see me half naked? What is he doing here?

His lips twitched into a half-smile as his eyes raked over me slowly.

“Hello, Clarissa,” he said, his voice low and deep. “Nice to see you again. Why are you wearing my shirt… and smelling like my cologne?”

His tone was calm. Almost possessive.

I swallowed hard.

Fuck! I’m cooked.