Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“Enough!” Father was finally provoked, “I have made my decision, and no one can change it.”

There was a lot of commotion in the room. It was the first time Vivian heard her mother retort her father so loudly, and then, as expected, she heard her father’s furious roar followed by her mother’s even sharper cry.

Mother was being hit again.

Because she had contradicted Father, she had challenged his authority-something that was not allowed.

Vivian harbored anger and terror in her heart. She wanted to scream and burst into the room to stop her raging father; she should protect her mother, even if it meant she would be hit for defying him.

But reality did not give her the chance. Vilem had appeared behind her without her knowing, and just as she was about to rush in, he covered her mouth and dragged her away from her parents’ door.

“You shouldn’t be here, Vivian,” Vilem intended to carry her downstairs.

Vivian angrily shook off his hand, “Neither should you be here, you should be stopping Father!”

“No one can stop Father, Vivian,” Vilem stroked Vivian’s golden hair, which was fluffy and soft like clouds, “No one can challenge Father’s authority. That is the dignity of a Capo.”

“But that is our mother.” Vivian was afraid, yet she was equally concerned for her mother. She hated her own helplessness and could only place her hopes on Vilem, “Our mother is suffering. Don’t you want to save her, to alleviate her pain?”

Unfortunately, Vilem was destined to disappoint Vivian, “I’m sorry, Vivian. You, I, even Joseph, we can’t save Mother.”

Standing at the top of the stairs, Vivian looked down to see Joseph holding a coffee, also looking up at her. The moment their eyes met, Vivian suddenly felt a surge of desolation.

Without a word, Vivian followed her brothers into the car, while her parents were in another. They were now on their way to the Hargrave residence.

Vivian turned to look out of the car window. She had once walked on the sidewalks of Houston, looking up at the skyscrapers through the crowd. She was luckier than most; her father was a powerful man, eager to place her atop the luxurious heights of high-rises, letting her enjoy the glory and protection of the family, letting her look down at the crowds through floor-to-ceiling windows.

But her father could not give her freedom.

Because she was merely her father’s perfect creation, and now he was about to give his work away to someone else.

In the silent car, Vivian suddenly asked, “Who are you giving me to?”

Vilem, sitting next to her, remained silent, and Joseph did not even return a cold glance.

Vivian’s heart sank, “Is it one of the Hargrave brothers? Alajos or Simpson?”

“Shut up, Vivian,” Joseph, annoyed by her noise, said impatiently, “Please maintain your nobility and beauty.”

Vivian was afraid of Joseph; he was too much like their father, especially when he looked at her indifferently with those brown eyes, Vivian felt like she would die.

If she didn’t quiet down, Joseph would not hesitate to kill her, to forcefully silence her.

Of course, Joseph would not actually harm Vivian, but the necessary warnings had to be given; otherwise, she would not quiet down.

He knew his sister all too well.

…

The last time Vivian came to Houston was four years ago, to attend the funeral of Kamden Hargrave’s wife, who died of cancer. It was unexpected that today she was here for a funeral again, this time for Kamden himself.

Since the occasion was a funeral, Vivian was not in a particularly beautiful mood, so her attire was simple: a pair of black flats and a black dress, very understated and plain.

But she had beautiful golden hair that shimmered in the sunlight, elegant and noble. She also had a pair of eyes as blue as the sky and ocean, captivating at a glance-this was what Vivian was most proud of.

She didn’t think she was outstanding; her friend Emily often praised her as a cute girl rather than a beautiful woman. Vivian often felt troubled by such comments.

She didn’t want to be a cute girl forever; girls had no freedom.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

Vivian sighed and murmured to Vilem, “I forgot to have breakfast.”

Though she spoke softly, Joseph still heard, “If you were willing to keep to the rules and not meddle, you would have had your share of the bacon and egg sandwich this morning.”

Fortunately, their father, walking ahead, did not hear Joseph’s words, or Vivian was sure to be scolded.

Kamden had only twosons, Alajos and Simpson, both a few years older than Vivian.

Alajos, as Kamden’s heir, had smoothly become the new Capo of the Houston mafia. He and his brother Simpson were waiting outside the church, personally receiving the Bryson Jones family from Los Angeles.

“I’m very sorry.” Bryson expressed his condolences to the Hargrave brothers, gripping Alajos’s hand tightly, “I couldn’t offer you more help.”

Alajos looked somber; his father’s sudden death and the Hargrave family’s predicament weighed heavily on him, but he could not show more grief-it would be seen as weakness.

“I’m glad you could come, Bryson.” Alajos clasped Bryson’s hand in return, “I heard about the attack yesterday, I’m sorry you were startled.”

“It’s Bratva being too audacious,” Bryson said angrily, “rest assured, Los Angeles will do its utmost to help Houston out of this bind, Bratva’s plot to conquer Houston will not succeed.”

Alajos walked ahead with Bryson while Simpson took a step back to stand with Vivian’s brothers.

“Everything will get better, Simpson, cheer up,” Vilem hugged Simpson first, their relationship had always been good, “I look forward to fighting alongside you, hoping my arrival can bring more help to you and your family.”

Simpson thanked him on behalf of the Hargrave family, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the girl behind his friend, her golden hair dazzling like the sun, her blue eyes mysterious as the ocean, the simple black dress unable to hide her graceful curves-she was a beautiful and adorable girl.

“It’s nice to see you again, Vivian.”

Simpson’s appreciative gaze lingered on Vivian, making her nervous-her father intended to give her to the Hargrave family, and Simpson was one of the candidates.

“Yes, nice to see you,” Vivian stepped back unconsciously, maintaining her composure with ladylike manners, remembering to return the greeting gracefully.

“The ceremony is about to begin.” Joseph reminded them, as others were already taking their seats.

Simpson had to abandon the idea of continuing the conversation and return to Alajos’s side.

Alajos, having finished talking with Bryson, watched Vivian intently for a few minutes while waiting for Simpson, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s, menacing like a predator that had tasted blood, making Vivian’s scalp tingle.

Father must have spoken to Alajos. Vivian thought despairingly, he truly intended to give her to the Hargrave brothers. What was she to do, run away?