Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Vivian didn’t want to appear timid, but she indeed had no experience in bars, and she had never seen pole dancing up close.

“No,” Vivian decided to answer honestly, “but I will be coming in and out of here often.”

Alajos was amused by her words, his body shaking with laughter, the drink in his glass trembling, almost spilling.

His free hand gently rested on Vivian’s head, patting it. “Don’t confine yourself here. I will show you a broader world.”

Vivian was stunned. She looked at Alajos’s earnest face, feeling her heart skip a beat for a few seconds.

The next moment, an inexplicable sadness surged within her.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

Alajos didn’t understand. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Vivian sniffed, lowering her head so Alajos couldn’t see.

“Then what’s this?” Alajos’s fingertip brushed over Vivian’s eye, her tears moistening his dry finger.

“Lemonade,” Vivian said softly.

Alajos laughed. “Alright, lemonade.”

He asked the bartender for a tissue and handed it to Vivian.

Vivian took it and dabbed at the corner of her eye. Alajos enveloped her in his arms, his forehead against hers. “Tell me, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about where you will take me,” Vivian said honestly.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Many places.”

“Like?”

“I want to go to the Netherlands to see windmills and tulips, I want to go to Provence, I want to see the London Eye…” There were so many places she wanted to go, Vivian wanted to become the wind, blowing through every corner of the world. She thought, perhaps that was freedom.

“If it’s too far, then we can go somewhere closer,” Vivian said. “Hawaii is also nice.”

“If you want to go,” Alajos said, “we have plenty of opportunities to go.”

Vivian nuzzled his forehead and said softly, “No one has ever told me such things. No one has been willing to take me to see the world.”

“I am willing,” Alajos vowed just as softly and devoutly into her ear.

“I am very happy,” Vivian said, reaching up to encircle his neck, planting a kiss near his lips. “Thank you, Alajos.” Regardless of the purpose behind “I am willing,” she was grateful to Alajos for giving her a beautiful hope, giving her the motivation to grow in this desperate swamp.

Alajos paid no mind to the onlookers, exchanging an ambiguous and intimate kiss with Vivian amidst the noisy music and cheers of the bar.

…

At ten o’clock in the evening, the bar reached its peak of excitement. The underground boxing ring quietly opened, and VIP customers with tickets entered the minus one floor through a special passage. Tonight, a Mexican boxing champion was challenging the reigning champion who had won seven consecutive victories.

Before the match even began, the spectators and gamblers below the stage were already boiling with excitement, tossing their chips boldly in front of the names of their favored fighters.

Vivian was drawn to the lively atmosphere, but she didn’t want to witness the bloody scenes, so she left the underground boxing ring before the match started.

Alajos, who had planned to accompany Vivian all day, received a sudden work call and had to leave. Before departing, he made a call, and soon a big red sports car swished and stopped at the VIP parking spot in front of Adieu.

Emmert, dressed in all black leather, exuded a cool vibe. “Hey, I thought you wanted to invite me for a drink.”

“Emmert Rosente,” Alajos reintroduced Vivian to him, “one of my most capable subordinates, your shooting instructor, and will also be your bodyguard for the next few days.”

“Bodyguard?” Vivian widened her eyes in astonishment.

Emmert gallantly bowed slightly to Vivian, completely unsurprised about being her bodyguard. “Respected Miss Vivian, hello. It is my pleasure to serve you.”

Vivian blinked, looking at Emmert, then back at Alajos. “So… where’s Mare?”

“Mare needs rest for his injury, but I can’t let you be without protection,” Alajos explained. “I don’t trust anyone else with this task, only Emmert is worthy of my trust.”

Does this mean Mare will come back?

Vivian did not ask this question, fearing it might make Emmert uncomfortable. But she did hope that Mare would come back. Since she arrived in Houston, it had been Mare and Luzia who had been with her. Luzia’s absence had already left her feeling lonely, and if Mare were to leave as well, she couldn’t bearit.

“Let Emmert take you back to the apartment tonight,” Alajos handed Vivian over to Emmert and then left in another car.

“Are you wanting to ask if Mare will come back?” Emmert’s demeanor was much more cheerful than Vivian had imagined. His playful appearance was nothing like the strict and serious shooting instructor she knew.

“I’m sorry,” Vivian didn’t deny after being seen through, and apologized candidly.

“No need to apologize,” Emmert said. “You seem to have a good relationship with Mare, and it’s good that someone remembers him.”

“Your heart is soft enough,” Emmert said with a smile, as if it were a compliment.

Vivian, sitting in the passenger seat, tilted her head in confusion. “Is that worthy of praise?”

“No,” Emmert smiled, but then suddenly turned grim. “It’s a fatal weakness.”

“A heart that’s too soft means anyone can use it to get close to you, make you drop your guard, then kidnap you and threaten Alajos by chopping off your little finger.”

Vivian was frightened by his words. “Please stop.”

“Scared?” Emmert’s smile changed again, this time to a mischievous one that suggested a successful prank. “Knowing fear is a good thing.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Vivian said, fastening her seatbelt, crossing her arms, and staring at him, feeling a bit suffocated. “Are you teasing me?”

“If I were, you succeeded,” Vivian snorted.

“No, I’m warning you,” Emmert’s voice suddenly turned cold. “Don’t easily expose your vulnerability to strangers.”

“I don’t seem to have the chance to interact with any strangers,” Vivian said. “Even though I participate in Adieu’s operations, the bar’s security is all arranged by Alajos, and Fillid, they won’t let real strangers get close to me.”

“If the enemy is determined, there will always be an opportunity,” Emmert said. “Do you remember Emilija?”

Emilija?

Vivian thought for a while before remembering who she was. “The massage therapist at the spa? What happened to her?”

“Mare told us about the attack that day, and this masseuse seemed very suspicious.”

“Is she with the Bratva?” Vivian looked surprised.

“Not confirmed yet,” Emmert shook his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Emilija’s identity is real; she is indeed a student at a nearby university, her student records match up, but her face doesn’t.” Emmert frowned. “We brought that female student to Mare to identify. Mare said she didn’t have that face that day, but her identity is real, and her student records are also real. Teachers and classmates at the school all recognize her.”

He looked at Vivian. “Do you know what this means?”

Vivian knew.

The female student’s identity had been used by someone else. The “Emilija” she met at the spa might be a fake.