Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“Ah!” Vivian awoke with a start, screaming at the top of her lungs. The door was thrust open the next second by Luzia.

“Vivian!” Luzia climbed onto her bed, holding her tightly in her arms, patting her back incessantly, trying to calm her down, “It’s okay now, it’s okay, Vivian. You are in Alajos’s apartment, you’re safe, don’t be scared.”

Luzia turned on the light in the room. She saw Vivian’s frightened tears and the sweat on her forehead. Holding her worriedly, she asked, “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yes, I had a terrible nightmare.” Vivian sobbed, covering her eyes. “I dreamt that Alajos killed that man, and then that man came to kill me.”Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

“That won’t happen. That man is already dead,” Luzia said. “And Alajos won’t let such a thing happen; he has the power to keep you safe. You don’t have to worry.”

“Why must he do that? Must he kill? He knows I would be scared.”

“It’s a matter of necessity,” Luzia soothed, patting her back. “We both know that Alajos had no reason to spare him, but he had every reason to kill him.”

“I know,” Vivian said. “For his authority.”

“It’s important. The authority of a Capo can’t be undermined. He needs to ensure his position is unshakeable. If he didn’t do that, his enemies would easily kill him. And as his wife, if he can’t protect you, his enemies will kill you too.”

“But I’m scared,” Vivian cried, hiding in her embrace. “He’s too frightening; he will kill me.”

“No, Vivian, you’re his wife, not his enemy.”

“But you know, I married him unwillingly. I’ll run away; I’ll refuse to make love with him.”

Luzia sighed, feeling pity for Vivian, but she couldn’t simply agree with her words to comfort her, to tell her it’s okay, that Alajos wouldn’t force her, that Alajos would understand.

In fact, if Vivian kept resisting Alajos like this, refusing to fulfill her wifely duties, Alajos would surely lose his mind. He would turn into a beast, shatter Vivian’s dignity, lock her in a room until she bore his child.

But looking at the Vivian, so beautiful even in tears, Luzia couldn’t bring herself to utter these cruel truths. She could only continue patting Vivian’s back, repeatedly comforting her, “No, Alajos won’t kill you. Don’t be afraid of him.”

“Go to sleep, there’s still time.” Luzia lay beside Vivian. “Don’t be afraid, I’ll stay with you.”

Luzia’s voice was soft, singing a melodious lullaby. The traces of tears still at the corners of Vivian’s eyes, she closed them and slowly drifted back to sleep to the sound of Luzia’s lullaby.

Vivian felt like she had slept for a long time, but in reality, it wasn’t more than a couple of hours. She looked at the time; it was less than two hours.

Luzia was no longer in her room. Vivian didn’t know when she had left, probably shortly after she had fallen asleep.

Vivian lay back down, her eyes closed, but sleep eluded her.

It wasn’t yet dawn; it was just five in the morning, and the apartment was extremely quiet.

Vivian turned on her side, looking at the muted beige curtains, probably the most vivid color in the room. The other items were either black or grey, and the bedding was white, occasionally taken out for sunbathing and replaced with another color, but mostly monotonous.

Alajos’s apartment guest room lacked design, unlike the coziness of his master bedroom, and certainly unlike her room in Los Angeles, which was filled with handmade dolls she had made, with famous musical silhouettes and posters on the snow-white walls, her bookshelf overflowing with film and television books from around the world. She liked sitting on the plush carpet that covered the room, reading, drawing, pasting stickers, and doing crafts, her presence felt everywhere.

But the room before her was really just a cold guest room that would imprison her until she was taken to another room to be confined.

After waking up, Vivian couldn’t fall back asleep, but she also didn’t want to get up and face Alajos, so she pretended to be asleep until it was no longer early, and her stomach was growling from hunger.

Vivian got up to wash and change her clothes. By this time, Alajos would have finished breakfast; he might already be out and busywith work, and she wondered what was left in the kitchen to eat.

Vivian’s mind was cluttered with messy thoughts as she opened her room door and stepped out. Before she even got close to the staircase, she heard a piercing cry, so sorrowful and plaintive it made her heart twinge.

She recognized the voice; it was Luzia.

What happened to Luzia? What tragic event had caused the always strong, sunny Luzia to cry like that?

Vivian, worried, quickened her pace and peered through the gaps in the staircase down to the living room, where she could see Alajos’s figure and Luzia sitting on the sofa to his right.

Luzia, covering her face, was crying uncontrollably, her voice hoarse from the prolonged sobbing, “I beg you, you’ve sent me away once, can you not do it again this time. Just let me be a childless widow, I’m willing to live this life alone.”

Simpson sat beside Luzia, wiping her tears, his voice very low. Vivian couldn’t hear clearly, but Luzia’s response was violent.

“I don’t want it, I don’t want it.” Luzia screamed, crying even harder, “I don’t want to marry him.”

“You’re not a child anymore, Luzia,” Alajos growled, anger in his voice. He couldn’t comfort Luzia, her resistance seemed pointless to him.

Luzia was frightened by his terrible expression, her crying stopped momentarily, “I will die.”

“Will Vivian die marrying me? She won’t, I will do everything to protect her,” Alajos said, suppressing his rage, “Haven’t you been trying to convince Vivian to accept this fact?”

“You’re not Joseph; you won’t kill Vivian, but Joseph will kill me. He’s cold-blooded, brutal, a monster.”

“Who among us isn’t a monster,” Alajos said. “This is the mafia; no one survives this war without becoming a monster. Only monsters have the right to wealth, status, and power.”

“You should feel honored, Luzia. The man you’re going to marry will be the future Capo of Los Angeles, the most powerful man. Only he can make you a lady, not a childless widow.”

Vivian stood frozen on the stairs, unable to believe what she was hearing. Luzia was to marry her brother Joseph? My God, was she still in a nightmare? It was unimaginable, the cheerful and lively Luzia, always like a little sun, was to marry Joseph? How was this any different from an angel falling into a demon’s trap?

“No,” Luzia refused to accept this cruel fate, “Why must you be so cruel to me.”