Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Vivian couldn’t accurately describe the feeling. Wiping her hair was a small thing, but she always felt that wiping each other’s hair between a man and a woman was very ambiguous and intimate, especially when Alajos’s fingers passed through her long hair, the rough fingertips with calluses grazed her scalp, making her hair almost stand on end with a tingling sensation.

Alajos gently massaged her scalp, his technique was too professional. Vivian lay in his arms with her eyes closed, feeling so comfortable that she almost moaned.

“I want to call Vilem, but I don’t know if it will disturb him,” Vivian turned in Alajos’s arms, reached out and hugged his strong waist, and affectionately nuzzled her head against him.

Alajos was softened by her actions, he stroked Vivian’s long hair, “You can try to contact him tomorrow morning, if he answers the phone.”

With permission, Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. Although she was very worried about Vilem, she wisely refrained from asking too much. When it came to business matters, Alajos would become irritable and short-tempered.

Capos all loved dictatorship, and Alajos was no exception. He respected tradition and similarly disliked women being involved in the mafia’s business.

For this, Vivian was very worried. Could Shelley’s desire to become the head of the family really come true?

The next day before leaving, Vivian tried to contact Vilem. The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered.

“We use special communicators when we carry out our tasks. You can’t find someone using a regular phone,” Mare explained. “Vilem didn’t answer the phone, he might be on a mission.”

Vivian nodded, got into Diego’s car, and set off for the shooting club.

“Emmert didn’t come?” When she arrived at the club, Vivian learned that Emmert had taken on a sudden mission and gone on a business trip, hastily assigning Vivian some exercises to practice shooting on her own.

Vivian frowned as she looked at the practice list. “They seem very busy?”

Today, Alajos left the apartment before dawn. Though Vivian wasn’t awakened by the noise, she still had some impression. It had been almost three weeks since she last contacted Vilem, and there was no sign of Simpson, who had vanished suddenly on a business trip.

Mare didn’t know the specifics, but he knew that Houston had reached a new cooperation with Washington, and Los Angeles definitely wouldn’t sit idly by.

With the teacher absent, Vivian could only pick up the gun to practice on her own. With the genetic gift from Bryson, the Capo, she had gained a natural talent for shooting. In just a short half month, she had already transitioned from hitting fixed targets to moving ones.

The difficulty of hitting moving targets had increased by more than a few points. Vivian could hit the fixed targets in the eight or nine rings, occasionally the bullseye, but the moving targets were often three or four rings, with a high probability of missing the target.

“Don’t let your hand shake,” Mare temporarily took on the role of a teacher, holding Vivian’s elbow. “Keep your balance, pay attention to the direction the target is moving…”

Bang!

A direct hit, seven rings!

Emmert was good at ambushes, and Mare’s ambush was not bad either.

At least they were both better than her, Vivian thought wryly.

After practicing all morning, Vivian felt her back and legs ache, but the most sore was her hands. Keeping the same shooting stance and firing over a hundred shots had made her arms too tired.

“You can rest in the afternoon.” Emmert, who was on a business trip, kindly gave Vivian half a day off. Mare asked, “Do you want to go shopping?”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

“No,” Vivian shook her head. “I think I need a massage.”

“I will arrange it for you.” Mare picked up his notebook and went out to make an appointment for Vivian at the spa she often visited.

Not long after Mare left, Vivian received a call back from Vilem.

“Oh, Vilem, you finally replied to me. Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Vivian’s voice, full of joy, conveyed her excitement to Vilem over the phone.

Vilem was infected by her enthusiasm. In his weary voice, a hint of a smile could be heard. “I’m sorry to have worried you. Are you okay, Vivian?”

“I’m fine.” Vivian gripped her phone tightly, her expression conflicted. She hesitated, whether to tell Vilem about her pregnancy.

She didn’t know if doing so would cause trouble for Alajos, but Vilem was the closest family to her, and she really wanted to sharethis joyful secret with him.

“I’m just so worried about you. I don’t know where you are, and I don’t know if you’re safe,” Vivian said. “Tell me, Vilem, tell me you haven’t been hurt, tell me you’re safe.”

On the other end of the phone, Vilem subconsciously moved his fingers, feeling the piercing pain of his fractured finger bones. He endured it, layer upon layer of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“Yes, I haven’t been hurt. I’m very safe.”

The distorted sound of the electric current resonated in Vivian’s ears. She strained to listen, trying to discern, wanting to determine if Vilem was lying through his voice.

But Vilem concealed it too well. He didn’t reveal any more of his pain, successfully making Vivian believe he was safe.

Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. “When will you be back?”

Vivian touched her abdomen, a gentle smile on her lips. A feeling of happiness filled her heart to the brim, almost overflowing.

“Wait for you to come back, I want to tell you good news,” Vivian said. “Can you come back soon?”

Wiping the blood off his face, Vilem’s newly added scar at the corner of his eyebrow marred his handsome features, giving him a fierce and menacing look.

If Vivian were there in person, she would have noticed how much this version of Vilem resembled their father, Bryson.

Unfortunately, Vivian couldn’t see it. Vilem would never reveal such an ugly side of himself to Vivian. He smoothed out his brow, softening his facial expression, portraying himself as harmless, even the scar at the corner of his brow looked pitiful.

“Okay,” Vilem agreed outright. “Wait for me, I’ll come back after I finish this business.”

Before hanging up, Vilem asked about their mother’s condition. Vivian responded with silence.

Vilem remained silent for a long time, finally saying, “I understand.”

Uneasiness surged within Vivian. “Father said mother is sick, he sent her to Europe for recuperation, but he didn’t give me the phone number, nor allow me to contact her or her caretaker. It’s too suspicious, Vilem.”

“Is mother really in Europe?” To be honest, Vivian didn’t believe it. But she couldn’t leave Houston now, nor could she return to Los Angeles.

“I understand,” Vilem seemed to have made a decision. He gravely advised Vivian, “I will confirm mother’s safety with father and Los Angeles again. If there’s any news, I will let you know. Vivian, listen to me, don’t contact father again, and don’t call the mansion in Los Angeles.”

“We’ve been away from Los Angeles for too long, both you and I have new identities and new lives. Los Angeles has expelled us, it’s no longer the Los Angeles we once knew.”

Vivian found it hard to accept. She struggled to speak, “I…”