Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Alajos would make a qualified Capo, Father had once said.

Vivian never doubted her father’s words; she was deeply convinced that the Capo would never fall in love with her. Even if she bared her breasts and spread her legs to entice him, it was destined that she would not receive even a trace of his love.

“I will be Alajos’s wife, a tool for bearing his heirs, but I will never be his lover.” This realization was suffocating, and Vivian felt nauseous.

Vilem soothed her by patting her back, gently singing a popular song from the streets of Los Angeles in her ear. Vivian closed her eyes to his singing, trying to feel the breeze blowing over the Los Angeles River.

She wanted to go back to Los Angeles.

…

The engagement party was over, and Vivian returned to her Golden Hill apartment, escorted by Vilem and Mare. Bryson, Tasneem, and Joseph did not come back with them; they had left Yazmin’s villa to catch a private plane back to Los Angeles.

Now, only she and Vilem remained.

The apartment was terrifyingly silent. Vivian sat on her bed, the red dress she had taken off spread at her feet. She hugged her legs, eyes fixed on the floor, while faint footsteps came from the next room.

Mare was moving around-his room was right next to Vivian’s. He would stay here to protect Vivian until her wedding night with Alajos.

The sky was darkening. When it turned completely dark, Golden Hill apartment was utterly still. This silence was heavy, suffocating. Vivian sank into the darkness, a feeling all too familiar to her.

She often experienced this terrifying silence in the mansion in Los Angeles, where she lived on the second floor with her parents’ room across the corridor. On every quiet night, she could hear the terrible sounds coming from her parents’ room-her father’s heavy breathing and her mother’s sobbing echoing in her ears, a sight she had once glimpsed.

“I hope you are prepared.”

“Our wedding night.”

Alajos’s deep voice resonated in the darkness, causing Vivian’s body to shudder involuntarily. In the dim room, the image of her parents’ entwined bodies haunted her mind.

Vivian sat up abruptly, the thin fabric of her camisole failing to conceal her pale breasts, her breaths coming in gasps, her body trembling with dread.

It was terrifying.

Vivian thought.

Alajos hadn’t done anything yet, but he had already taken control of her body, making her shiver for him, causing her insomnia.

It was truly terrifying.

Vivian slid back under the covers, burying her head in the pillow, telling herself to sleep quickly, to not lose sleep over Alajos-it was meaningless.

Vilem woke up early; he had even had breakfast before Vivian had stirred. The doorbell rang, and he had no choice but to go upstairs to wake her.

Mare was also up, watching silently as Vilem entered Vivian’s room.

Vivian did not know when she had fallen asleep, but she was awoken by Vilem with daylight streaming through her window. She sat up, stretched, her sleep not quite sufficient, leaving her feeling listless.

“You have a visitor,” Vilem said, “a lovely lady.”

Vilem’s assessment of girls was either ‘lovely’ or ‘beautiful’; in his eyes, no girl was ugly, and if there was, it wasn’t the girl’s fault.

From this perspective, Vilem was a qualified gentleman.

“Who?” Vivian, still groggy, tried to think with her not quite clear head and realized she had no friends in Houston.

“Can’t help you there, I don’t know her either,” Vilem had already left the room. “You better hurry down, don’t keep people waiting, it’s rude.”

Vivian had no choice but to get up, quickly washing up, combing her hair, changing clothes. She tied up her long hair, discarded the cumbersome gown and revealing dress, donned jeans and a white casual shirt with lace trim, applied honey-colored lipstick, and rushed downstairs.

Just like Vilem said, the lady who had come to visit her was very cute, with deep brown hair and brown eyes, a round, rosy face. She wasn’t wearing too elaborate makeup or branded clothes, but her coffee drinking was graceful, and the just-right smile on her lips was comforting.

This woman gave Vivian a very familiar feeling; she guessed that this woman was definitely not from an ordinary background-her family must have emphasized the cultivation of a lady. At the same time, Vivian was sure she did not know this woman.

“Hello, I’m Luzia,” the woman said as Vivian appraised hercuriously, putting down her coffee, “I’m pleased to meet you, sister-in-law.”

Vivian felt a bit awkward, “I’m pleased to meet you too, Luzia. But I’m not your sister-in-law yet.”

“What does it matter? It’s only a matter of time,” Luzia winked playfully.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“No, we haven’t had the wedding yet,” Vivian insisted, “You should just call me Vivian.”

“Alright,” Luzia pouted, seemingly a bit displeased, but she quickly forgot this and looked at Vivian with bright eyes, “You know why I am here today, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Vivian looked at the breakfast with some difficulty, “Alajos sent you to take me to buy a wedding dress.”

“Bingo!” Luzia clapped her hands together excitedly, “Don’t worry, I will help you find the most beautiful and suitable wedding dress. You will be the most beautiful bride, and Alajos will be mesmerized by you.”

“No…” Vivian wanted to say she didn’t need it, a wedding dress wouldn’t make Alajos love her.

Luzia noticed the untouched breakfast and realized she had been impolite, “Ah, I’m so sorry for coming over unannounced. If you’re not ready, we can schedule it for another day.”

“It’s okay,” Vivian finished her coffee, packed a sandwich in her bag, “Please wait a moment for me, I need to speak with my brother.”

Vivian hadn’t forgotten Vilem’s mission in Houston. Today, he would officially report to Alajos and begin serving under him.

The war between the Mafia and Bratva was cruel; each clash resulted in deaths, people from both the Mafia and Bratva.

Vilem saw Vivian’s worry but was helpless; this was his duty as a Made Man, he could not refuse to fight.

“Take care of yourself,” Vivian hugged him with concern.

“I will,” Vilem returned the hug, whispering a blessing to her, “Have fun.”

After saying goodbye to Vilem, Vivian left the Golden Hill apartment with Luzia, Mare following them in silence.

Luzia looked back at Mare, then at Vivian, whose face was marked with irritation, and asked in surprise, “Did Mare upset you?”

“No, he didn’t,” Vivian shook her head, “Actually, I would be annoyed with any bodyguard following me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not freedom,” Vivian said sullenly, “I don’t need personal protection, I’m safe here, Bratva can’t hurt me.”

“No, Vivian, you have to understand that danger is always present,” Luzia tried to convince her, “We are the Mafia; our enemies are not just Bratva but also traitors and harassers… Mare can ensure your safety, he is a qualified bodyguard. Didn’t you have bodyguards in Los Angeles?”