Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Vivian and Mare both froze at the same time, staring at each other for a second.

“Should we leave?” Vivian asked.

In the darkness, Mare maintained his expressionless face, so much so that Vivian didn’t even notice the pink tinge rising on his neck.

He nodded silently, gesturing for Vivian to go ahead while he followed closely behind.

They hastily returned to the banquet hall.

Meanwhile, in the unmonitored dark corner, Richard, dressed sharply in a suit, embraced a delicately made-up woman from behind. His head buried in the nape of her neck, only a pair of sinister, hate-filled eyes were visible. “Do you see her? That’s Vivian, the wife of our great Capo,” he whispered.

“Vivian Hargrave.” The woman hidden in the darkness murmured Vivian’s name, as if saying it aloud would etch her image more deeply into her mind. She stuck out her tongue, licked her crimson lips, and revealed a cruel smile. “Do you want her arm, or her leg?”

“I want her life!” Richard’s venomous voice echoed in the woman’s ear.

The woman chuckled silently. “Understood, my guest.”

Back in the banquet hall, Shelley remained seated on the same couch, while Festus returned with a medical kit. He squatted in front of Shelley, preparing to dress her wound with iodine and medical gauze.

Shelley couldn’t stand his demeanor, and after a brief argument, she suddenly lost her temper, kicking Festus in the knee. “It’s nothing,” she said dismissively.

Shelley pushed Festus away and tended to her wound using a bandage from the medical kit.

As this episode concluded, Shelley looked up to see Vivian and Mare return in a hurry. She wore a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong? Are you being chased by dogs?”

“No, nothing like that,” Vivian said, sitting down beside her uneasily.

Shelley looked at her slightly flushed face. “Why are you blushing?” She glanced at Mare, who still wore the same expressionless look, giving no clue as to what was happening.

Just as Shelley was deeply puzzled, the lively music and chatter in the banquet hall momentarily hushed, diverting her attention.

It was Alajos and her grandfather.

The banquet was coming to a close, and Alajos had finally sealed the deal with Fidelio, who also reminded Alajos, “Bryson is very ambitious. His son Joseph has inherited his talent and ambition perfectly. He will become an outstanding Capo just like his father.”

But there’s only one position of Capo, and Bryson is still young. If Joseph wants to become the Capo of Los Angeles, it would require Bryson to die. In the mafia, conflicts between father and son, between brothers, are common occurrences. Only the victor deserves to hold the high position, power, and wealth.

“Joseph has never given up on replacing his father.” Bryson is a very shrewd person, how could he not see through Joseph’s ambition, the heir he has painstakingly nurtured.

While Bryson was pleased with the strength of his heir, would he willingly give up his position as Capo?

Alajos’ thoughts were the same as Fidelio’s-impossible!

So what should they do?

A city can only have one Capo.

The best way is to aim the gun at the weakening Houston, drive their new Capo Alajos off the stage, and let Joseph take his place.

This is the best way.

In fact, Bryson has already begun to do so. Los Angeles generously sent dozens of elites, not only to support Houston but also to silently encroach on it.

“Your wife is very beautiful,” Fidelio stood at the railing on the second floor, overlooking the lounge.

Alajos followed his gaze to the lounge, where Vivian sat with Shelley. Shelley leaned her head as she spoke to Vivian, looking somewhat distracted.

“Thank you for the compliment,” Alajos said. “If my wife hears your praise, she will be very happy.”

Alajos referred to Vivian as “my wife,” which surprised Fidelio.

Fidelio felt that he was hinting very clearly-that’s Bryson’s daughter.

Alajos responded equally clearly-she is my wife.

“You’ve taken a liking to her, Alajos,” Fidelio said, staring straight into Alajos’ eyes, as if trying to see through all his disguises. However, Alajos remained unchanged, saying, “Vivian is my wife.”

Whether he likes her or not is irrelevant; as long as Vivian is his wife, he has a responsibility to protect her.

Fidelio nodded and said no more, walking down the stairs.

“Grandfather.” Shelley and Festus had already come up to him, and Vivian followed behind them.

“My little rose has grown up,” Fidelio affectionately patted Shelley’s head. “If Hanson were still here…”

“Hanson would be happy for me too,” Shelley grabbed Fidelio’s aged hand, smiling.

“Yes, he would be happy for you,” a glint of moisture appeared in Fidelio’s wise eyes for a moment, then quickly disappeared.

After a brief chat, Shelley’s father Charles came out to announce the end of the banquet, and the guests began to leave one after another.

Charles had something to discuss with Alajos, so Vivian got into the car ahead of him.

“Mare,” Vivian called out to Mare in front, and he turned to look at her.

“Has Vilem been in touch with you lately?” Vivian asked. Shelley mentioning her brother Hanson made Vivian realize that she hadn’t contacted Vilem in a long time.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Mare shook his head. Vilem rarely initiates contact with him.

“He might be on a business trip,” Vivian thought. She’d ask Alajos about it later.

As Vivian thought about this, Alajos, finishing his conversation with Charles, came back. He lowered his head and got into the car, closing the door.

The car carrying them slowly pulled out, and the streetlights on either side of the road weren’t very bright.

In the dimly lit car, Vivian sought comfort by holding Alajos’s hand. Alajos silently tightened his grip, comforting her silently.

Back at the apartment, Vivian took her nightclothes and went to the bathroom, while Alajos unbuttoned his suit, loosened his tie, and twisted his stiff neck, producing cracking sounds.

He took ice cubes from a glass, grabbed a whiskey bottle from the bedroom’s mini-fridge, and sat on a chair on the balcony, overlooking the city’s lights beneath his feet.

Cooperating with Washington wasn’t without its drawbacks. Just as Los Angeles coveted Houston, Washington also sought benefits from him. Allowing Washington’s ambitions to expand could easily lead to it becoming the next Los Angeles.

Tapping his fingers lightly on the table, Alajos squinted his eyes slightly. Those two old men…

The bathroom door was pushed open softly, and the misty steam rushed out eagerly from the wide-open bathroom door. Vivian stepped barefoot on the carpet, holding a clean towel, drying her hair as she walked out.

Alajos, sipping his drink, squinted his brown eyes slightly, and his gaze, filled with affectionate desire, traveled over her body through the glass door, until it settled on her slightly curved abdomen. His desire softened into tenderness, and his sharp features also softened considerably.

He beckoned to Vivian, and she walked over with the towel in her hand. Alajos took the towel from her and draped it over her head.