Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“I want to escape,” Vivian confessed her innermost thoughts. She longed to push open the door, break free from the shackles, and run-run far away from Golden Hill Apartment, away from Houston, but she could never return to Los Angeles again.

“You can’t escape, child,” Tasneem mercilessly shattered Vivian’s fantasy. “Their power is too great, and you are too weak. You won’t get far before you’re caught. A bride who runs away is a great shame to the Capo, and he will kill you in front of his followers.”

“Luck’s indulgence won’t grace you many times, my child. I wish you peace.”

Vivian’s face turned pale, and tears fell in large drops. Her mother was still on the other end of the phone, offering comforting words, but she couldn’t take any of it in.

She hung up the phone, and Golden Hill Apartment fell into complete silence. Vilem’s room was quiet, no light peeked through the door crack-was he asleep?

Mare had not returned from fetching food-who knew when he would come back.

Vivian clutched her pounding heart, aware that an excellent opportunity was before her. She had cast her mother’s warnings to the back of her mind, conscious only of the urgency of time; she knew she had to flee immediately.

And so Vivian ran.

She flung open the door of Golden Hill Apartment and dashed into the dark night, the wind howling past her ears, tangling her golden hair. She raced forward in a frenzy, daring not to stop, for stopping would mean capture.

But Vivian hadn’t anticipated that her flight would be so short-lived. Barely 300 yards from Golden Hill Apartment, at an intersection, a bearded Bratva burst from the roadside bushes brandishing a gun and firing at Vivian.

Vivian’s mind went blank. She was nearly frozen in place, staring blankly at the dark muzzle as it spat sparks in the darkness.

At the moment the gunshot rang out, Vivian felt a massive force from behind. She was tackled to the ground in a fully protective posture, and as she instinctively looked up, the person on top of her pushed her back down.

“Don’t move.” Amidst the gunfire, Mare’s calm voice reached her.

Vivian dared not move again. She heard several shots-the people protecting Golden Hill Apartment were exchanging fire with the Russians. Mare was responsible for her safety, pulling her up and retreating back to Golden Hill Apartment.

With such commotion, Vivian wondered if it would wake Vilem. In any case, she was sure to be scolded; Vilem would be furious, might throw things, but once his temper subsided, all would be well. Vilem wouldn’t hit her, wouldn’t harm her.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

But…

Vivian glanced at Mare’s stern expression. Mare would surely tell Alajos. Would he rage like a father? Would he point a gun at her, or would he beat her, lock her in a dark room?

Vivian, head lowered, was escorted by Mare into the elevator. She braced for Vilem’s roar, but Mare didn’t take her back to her family’s floor. Instead, the elevator descended to the underground parking garage.

“No,” Vivian clung to the car door, refusing to get in. “Where are you taking me? I should go home. Vilem will be worried.”

“As long as Miss Vivian doesn’t run away again, Mr. Vilem won’t have to worry,” Mare replied.

“What do you mean?”

Before Vivian could finish, Mare had pried her hands away and stuffed her into the car, locking the door behind her.

Mare drove the car himself, leaving the underground garage and merging onto the highway, the streetlights receding rapidly behind them.

They were leaving Golden Hill Apartment, heading to an unknown destination.

“Where are we going?”

Mare, focused on driving, did not answer Vivian.

Well, although Vivian didn’t know where Mare was taking her, she was safe for now.

Vivian, recovering from the shock, realized her hands were drenched in sweat, her back cold with fear, her heart pounding erratically, her blood rushing. Her hands trembled.

She had nearly died.

It was only then that Vivian truly grasped her situation, slumping weakly into the car seat, the alternating lights outside reflecting on her panicked and bewildered face.

She now understood that she couldn’t escape. Alajos would kill her; the Bratva would kill her. She didn’t want to die. Her only choice was to obediently follow her father’s arrangements, marry Alajos, become a tool for bearing his heir, and remain in this cage-like marriage until death.

Mare drove a considerable distance-or perhaps not far at all. When Vivian openedher eyes, they had arrived, though she might have fallen asleep.

Mare’s subordinates were waiting for them, respectfully opening the car door.

Mare tossed the car keys to his subordinate and took Vivian up in the elevator.

This was a different apartment, and Vivian knew when she saw Alajos that this must be his residence.

“Tell me, why did you want to escape?” Alajos approached her, his rough hands capturing her chin, his thumb caressing her delicate skin, “Once, twice, will there be a third time?”

Vivian didn’t feel the pain, perhaps because Alajos wasn’t applying force, but this didn’t alleviate the fear in her heart, “I… I don’t want to marry you…”

“Why?” Alajos stared at her intently, his cold eyes flashing with a lethal frost, “You don’t think highly of me?”

“No…” Vivian still felt weak in her limbs, even cold.

“I am the most powerful man in Houston.” Alajos said coldly, his thumb moving up to wipe away the tears at the corner of Vivian’s eyes, “I can give you the same status and wealth as your father. Marrying me, I can offer you absolute respect and protection, and my enemies will never harm you.”

“If you really respected me, you would let me go instead of forcing me, making me marry you,” Vivian shouted.

Alajos frowned, “Our marriage, you think it’s coercion?”

“Yes, you can see how reluctant I am, isn’t that coercion?”

“It’s a transaction, an alliance.” Alajos let go of Vivian’s shoulder, his voice softer, “You should understand that, Vivian.”

“I don’t understand.” Vivian shook her head and stepped back, keeping a distance from Alajos, “Why does your alliance have to trade with my happiness?”

“Because you are Vivian Jones.” Alajos looked at her earnestly, while Vivian turned her head away, not wanting to look at him, trying to feign composure, but her trembling eyelashes betrayed her.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Vivian.” Alajos cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him, promising her, “I assure you, I will be a good husband, caring for you, looking after you, protecting you.”

Vivian’s eyelashes fluttered, looking into Alajos’s brown eyes, “Why not love me?”

Alajos’s hands shook slightly, he remained silent as he looked at Vivian. The silence between them lasted a long time, until Alajos was the first to let go of Vivian’s face, taking a step back.

“I cannot give you my love, because I do not possess it.”

Vivian’s eyes fell in disappointment, she stared blankly at the intricate patterns on the carpet, no longer desiring to continue the conversation with Alajos.