Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Vivian took a cold shower for an hour. As she emerged from the bathroom, enveloped in the chilly mist, time was slowly inching toward noon.

“Vivian,” Alajos drawled casually from the bed, where he reclined with a finance magazine resting on his legs, his gaze teasing.

Blushing, Vivian instinctively pulled her bathrobe closer around her and hastily grabbed a couple of clothes from the wardrobe, retreating back into the bathroom for another fifteen minutes.

“Let me change your dressing,” Alajos offered, his gaze lingering on her, his smile gentle in a way Vivian had never experienced before, causing her hand to tremble as she applied the ointment, almost losing control.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Vivian murmured.

“Are you feeling shy?” Alajos seemed to enjoy Vivian’s reaction, reaching out to playfully tug at her blushing earlobe.

Startled, Vivian took a step back, distancing herself from Alajos. “What are you doing?”

Alajos ran his warm fingers over her skin, his brown eyes filled with hungry longing. “I’m hungry.”

Vivian shivered, sensing that Alajos’s hunger was different from what she had anticipated.Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’ll get you some food,” she hurriedly escaped the room.

Haylee had prepared their lunch, and Vivian brought it on a tray. “Let’s eat in the room.”

Haylee, an excellent cook from her years of preparing meals for Capo, rarely questioned things, which spared Vivian a lot of trouble. At least she didn’t have to explain why they were having lunch in the room instead of the kitchen or why she suddenly wanted spinach for dinner as an iron supplement.

Carrying the lunch into the room, Vivian found Alajos already engrossed in a new magazine, this time a political one.

The two finished their lunch in silence. Alajos was insistent on getting out of bed, and Vivian couldn’t stop him, so she confined his activities to the room.

Perhaps it was because of his good mood that Alajos didn’t argue with Vivian about her earlier impropriety. This was probably the most peaceful day Alajos had had since his father’s death. The warm afternoon sunlight bathed his sharply chiseled face, and he was starting to feel drowsy.

He decided to take a nap.

As Alajos’s breathing gradually steadied, Vivian knew he had fallen asleep. She quietly slipped out of the room, finding Simpson and Festus preparing to leave.

“Not having dinner?” Vivian descended the stairs.

“No,” Simpson shook his head. “There’s some work I need to attend to. How’s Alajos?”

“He’s doing okay,” Vivian said. “No fever, and the wound looks quite good.”

Simpson felt relieved upon hearing this. He smiled at Vivian, a tender warmth in his brown eyes, entirely different from the way Alajos expressed himself. Simpson was a charming rogue, always knowing how to quickly capture a woman’s heart.

“Thank you for taking care of Alajos.”

“You’re welcome.”

After seeing off Simpson and Festus, Vivian went into the kitchen to help Haylee prepare dinner. She took the spinach out of the fridge.

In order to groom her as a suitable wife, Vivian’s father allowed her to attend a girls’ high school, where she learned many things a wife should know, such as graceful manners and culinary skills.

Vivian’s cooking was quite good, earning unanimous approval from Haylee and Luzia. She was confident that she could impress Alajos. Indeed, when Alajos expressed surprise at the delicious dinner coming from his wife’s hands, Vivian felt proud and pleased.

After tidying the kitchen, Vivian turned on the TV and settled on the couch to watch her drama. Alajos stood behind the couch and, after observing Vivian for a moment, predictably stopped on a movie featuring James.

A low chuckle escaped Alajos, and Vivian couldn’t tell if it was mocking or jesting.

“What’s so funny?” Vivian asked.

“I was just thinking, did you want to watch a movie with James?” Alajos’s amusement was evident in his voice. “I guessed right.”

“Is that so amusing?” Vivian didn’t understand. “I really like James.”

“I know,” Alajos said. “After all, you watch his movies every day, without getting tired. Girls like heroism.”

“I admit what you say is true,” Vivian nodded. She didn’t deny Alajos’s assessment of James’s roles in his movies, but what she liked about James went beyond his heroism.

“He’s a very gentle person, and he loves his wife very much,” Vivian said. “I once dreamt of marrying him.” Of course, that was before she married Alajos. Now she was married to Alajos, and fate had destined them to be bound together for a lifetime, impossible to divorce.

Alajos remained silent, sitting beside Vivian as they continued watching the plot unfold, until Vivian felt drowsy and he accompanied her to bed.

Such a night was a rare and tender experience for Vivian. Nestled in Alajos’s embrace, she listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart beneath his flesh, eventually succumbing to a deep slumber, dreaming about death.

The dream began warmly and beautifully. Alajos tenderly kissed her forehead and shared a romantic candlelit dinner with her. Her cheeks flushed with the effects of wine, and she endured Alajos’s passionate kisses.

However, in the next moment, Alajos vanished. She stumbled around downstairs for a long time, unable to find him. Suddenly, Simpson burst through the apartment door. His expression was calm, but his words were the cruelest.

“He’s dead.”

Vivian seemed to know who “he” was. She refused to accept it, shaking her head frantically. “No, no, no…”

Simpson grabbed her hand, blood seeping through his suit from Alajos’s wound. “Bratva chopped off his head. He’s dead.”

“It’s not true, he can’t be!”

Just as Vivian screamed, Simpson abruptly pulled her forward. She staggered, following his movement, and in an instant, she found herself in another room. Luzia’s shrill cries pierced her ears as she watched Joseph tear at Luzia’s clothes, viciously lashing her with a belt.

“No!” Vivian woke from her nightmare, a wave of nausea rising in her throat. She leaped out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, retching.

It was utterly nauseating!

Alajos, awakened by her screams, stood at the bathroom door, frowning. When Vivian had finished vomiting, he handed her a glass of water. “Take a sip.”

Vivian didn’t refuse. She took a sip, holding the water in her mouth for a while before spitting it out.

“Your condition is worse than I thought,” Alajos said, puzzled by her insistence on not going to the hospital. “Can’t we have the family doctor take a look?”