Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

On Vivian’s first day of class, Shelley, bored out of her mind, listened alongside her as Emmert lectured them on various firearms knowledge.

Vivian found it all rather confusing. She could only barely recognize the functions of a few components within a complete gun. Emmert’s actions were fluid and seamless, “Bang!” Another perfect shot.

It seemed so simple?

After all, the target was stationary; it wouldn’t move. Vivian was eager to give it a try.

Emmert chuckled as he placed the prepared ear protectors and safety goggles on her. He went through the shooting essentials with her once more, then let Vivian have a go on her own.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Nervously, Vivian gripped the gun tightly with both hands, her gaze fixed firmly on the red heart on the target in front of her. She felt she was aiming well, but when she pulled the trigger, “Bang!” The bullet missed the mark, and the powerful recoil shook her hands, almost causing her to drop the gun.

The sudden unexpected shock triggered an adrenaline rush, and Vivian’s heart pounded violently. She stared in shock at her trembling hands, almost frightened out of her wits.

This… was terrifying.

Emmert was startled as well, seeming to have misjudged Vivian’s strength.

Several people gathered around, worried. Shelley, holding her pounding chest, said, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Vivian was still a bit dazed, staring blankly at Shelley for a while before coming back to her senses. “I’m… I’m fine…”

Mare quickly helped her to a resting chair, glaring angrily at Emmert. “Emmert!”

Emmert, feeling a bit guilty, said, “It was an accident, I didn’t expect…”

He didn’t expect Vivian to have such little strength, unable to handle a conventional handgun’s recoil.

Trying to make amends, Emmert quickly brought out a solution, “Use this one, the Glock26. It’s lightweight, convenient, with almost no recoil. Perfect for someone like you.”

“And the compact pistol has the advantage of being easy to carry.” Emmert demonstrated, “Alajos will probably gift you a Glock26. Practice with it.”

No one expected Vivian to become extremely skilled, but her approach was not wrong. Learning to use firearms could make it easier for her to protect herself.

The last time Vivian had fired a gun was before her marriage, the night she visited Vilem. She fired her first shot for Alajos. Though she didn’t kill anyone, the feeling of hitting flesh with a bullet was oddly fascinating.

After that, she often dreamt of shooting, it felt cool, but also dangerous.

Once Vivian became a bit more familiar with the gun, Emmert resumed teaching her to shoot. That’s how it is with shooting practice, constantly aiming at the bullseye, continuous practice, and continuous shooting.

Emmert always believed that every drop of sweat during practice would eventually turn into every bullet aimed at the enemy’s heart.

Though Emmert didn’t expect Vivian to become exceptionally skilled, from the moment he started teaching her, he was absolutely serious, so he was very strict with her, setting a daily practice time, the number of shots, and the ratio of hits. If she didn’t meet the standard, she would have extra training. Within just a week, Vivian collapsed.

Shelley returned to the shooting club and happened to see Vivian lying on a bench, playing dead after extra training.

It was already break time, Emmert wasn’t in the practice room, and Shelley pushed the door open and sat on Vivian’s legs without a second thought.

“Ugh,” Vivian was startled by her, quickly sitting up and instinctively covering her abdomen, “You scared me.”

“You have such a small courage,” Shelley sarcastically remarked without mercy.

Vivian was exhausted, too tired to pay attention to her sarcasm.

“What are you aiming for, wearing yourself out like this?” Shelley sighed, “Can’t Alajos protect you?”

“Why do you have to become the head of the Capo family? Your son will definitely be the head of the Capo family.” Vivian retorted.

Shelley looked at her silently.

Vivian opened her weary eyes and looked at her, “Our goals are temporarily aligned. Your efforts are to take control of your destiny, mine too.”

Shelley didn’t argue with Vivian’s words.

“Alajos got you a day off, did you know?”

“I know,” Vivian said, “Is there a banquet?”

“It’s my family’s banquet,” Shelley said, “My grandparents heard the news of my engagement, and they’ve decided to come to Houston to meet my fiance.”

Vivian remembered that Shelley’s grandfather was a Capo in Washington, a powerful man equal to Alajos. The banquet held for him would undoubtedly bemagnificent, and Alajos had to attend with his wife.

“I plan to confess to my mother and grandfather about my intention to compete for the head of the Capo family,” Shelley’s eyes no longer focused on Vivian, she lowered her head, the hem of her white dress was long, covering her shiny black shoes.

Vivian sensed the unease in her expression. “What’s your purpose in doing this?”

“I want to gain my grandfather’s support,” Shelley said, “I need his support.”

“But are you sure he will support you?”

“Yes,” Shelley said despondently, “Girls shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of the Mafia; only boys can become Mafia warriors. This is a tradition the Mafia has always followed, and Washington is no exception.”

Vivian understood the feeling of being pulled forward by tradition, but she couldn’t offer Shelley any effective comfort.

“Why did your mother come to marry your father in Houston? Why did she marry your father?”

“Because of interests,” Shelley answered without hesitation, “Love is a luxury for women in the Mafia, it’s impossible.”

“My father respects my mother, but that’s not love,” Shelley was clear about how much emotion existed between her parents, her brother died, and her father didn’t bring back another son from his lover, all because the Capo in Washington was always powerful.

“Then use interests to persuade your grandfather,” Vivian said, “just as you persuaded me.”

“The Capo in Houston is Alajos, but the Benoist family is crucial in Houston. Washington certainly cares about the alliance with the Benoist family. And as the granddaughter of the Capo in Washington, if you become the head, the alliance between the two families can continue. If your son becomes the head, it’s not certain.”

“Grandfather may not care about that. Anyone can be the head, as long as they can bring benefit to Washington. But you’re right, I have to give it a try.” Shelley rallied, “Have a good time tomorrow.”

“I will,” Vivian said.

After a brief conversation, Shelley left. Because there was a banquet to attend the next day, Vivian gave up the idea of practicing for another hour, went to the club’s restroom to freshen up, and then went home.

She returned to the apartment just in time at nine o’clock. Alajos had already returned and prepared a dress for Vivian to wear to the banquet the next day.

Vivian joyfully ran her fingers over the patterns on the dress, the lace outlining the shape of a rose.

“I hope you like it,” Alajos appeared behind her.

Vivian turned and embraced him, rising on her tiptoes to return his kiss, “I really like it, thank you.”

Alajos responded by holding the back of her head tightly, deepening the kiss.

That night, Alajos was gentler than the previous two times. His actions were still forceful, but perhaps out of concern for the child in Vivian’s belly, he didn’t go as deep or as fiercely.