Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Vivian couldn’t control the trembling in her heart; she felt a chill over her body and couldn’t help but hug herself tightly.

“What’s going on here?” Catlito ran out from the kitchen upon receiving the news, his heart ached as he looked at the dead man and his companion, particularly distressed by the expensive carpet stained with blood. It was a handcrafted carpet he had shipped from Italy, with patterns he had designed himself, not just costly but also of significant meaning.

Alajos took the initiative to accept responsibility, “You can send the bill to me; I will take care of all the troubles.”

Catlito covered his face in pain, “You are my biggest problem, Alajos. Is there a day when you can come to my restaurant without causing a conflict?”

“They have only themselves to blame for not watching where they were going. It’s not my fault,” shrugged Alajos.

“Alright then,” Catlito compromised, “how did they provoke you?”

“My fiancee is too beautiful; they were coveting my woman.”

Catlito took a sharp breath, perhaps thinking the man had been overly bold. It was the man’s fault for not controlling his gaze, he got what he deserved, because Catlito didn’t seem as angry as before and showed no sympathy for the dead man.

Catlito said something else, Alajos replied, but Vivian wasn’t listening anymore. She had probably grasped the truth of the matter the man might have made some disrespectful remarks towards her, and then Alajos killed him.

“It’s just a small matter; you could have just beaten him up instead of killing him.”

“You are my woman, my possession. Anyone who covets you and tries to take you away deserves to die.” Alajos growled angrily.

“Possession?” Vivian’s eyes widened as she looked at him, “Am I just an object in your eyes?”

Vivian was angry, her chest heaving violently, “I am my own person, not your possession, nor your private property. Please forgive me, I cannot accept your statement.”

Vivian pushed past the people blocking her way and ran towards the restaurant entrance. She needed to get outside; she had to get away from this bloody place; she needed to breathe fresh air, or she would suffocate.

Before the cold wind could brush her cheeks, someone grabbed her hand and pulled her into an embrace.

The faint smell of blood was overshadowed by the strong scent of alcohol, but Vivian could still smell the cologne on Alajos, the intense male fragrance irresistibly assaulting her senses, as she was forcibly held in his embrace.

“Let me go,” Vivian struggled.

Alajos certainly wasn’t about to let go, even tightening his arms to leave no room for her to struggle, “You need to go back now; your dinner isn’t over yet.”

“No, I don’t want to have dinner with you now, nor do I want to go back to the restaurant.” Vivian’s eyes were red with anger, her long lashes wet with tears, “You said I was your possession in front of everyone, as if I were a dog that could be bought and sold, a piece of cake to be thrown away. I am very upset; I have been insulted.”

Alajos reached out to wipe away Vivian’s tears, he sighed, “I did not mean to insult you; it was just a way of expressing myself.”

“Can’t you express yourself in a different way?”

“I am used to this way of expression; it is hard to change.” Alajos said, “I will not change for anyone, because I am the Capo, I need to maintain my composure and principles, uphold my dignity.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Just as that man dared to covet you, I had to kill him.” Alajos stroked Vivian’s golden hair, his fingers sliding past her earlobe adorned with a pearl earring, and she trembled slightly in his arms.

Alajos was pleased with Vivian’s reaction, “As I’ve always said, you are my fiancee, my family, and it is my inescapable responsibility to protect you. Those men’s brazen looks and covetousness, their disrespectful words and gazes, were all challenges to my authority as Capo. They need to clearly understand who rules Houston.”

“The Capo can be challenged, but the challenger must die; this is how I defend my authority. You will understand, one day.” Alajos took Vivian back into the restaurant, “Now, we should go back and continue enjoying our dinner.”

Vivian could not refuse Alajos; his arms, strong as steel, left her no chance to resist, as he half-dragged, half-carried her back to their seat.

Vivian glanced in the direction of the dead man; the body and hisfriend were no longer there; the carpet was replaced with a brand new one, and the air was sprayed with lemon-scented perfume, fresh as if nothing had happened.

Their dinner was also replaced with new dishes; in front of her was a plate of Italian meat sauce pasta, Luzia was elegantly slicing her steak, Simpson had finished his dinner and was savoring a new bottle of wine opened by Catlito.

Alajos sat down beside her, his dinner consisting of pasta covered in tomato meat sauce, the silver soup spoon stirring inside, looking very appetizing.

“Do you want to try mine?” Alajos offered, scooping a spoonful of pasta with sauce and bringing it to her mouth.

The sweet and sour taste of the tomato was truly tempting; after a moment’s hesitation, Vivian couldn’t resist and opened her mouth to eat the food Alajos offered.

Alajos was pleased with her compliance, and then glanced at her plate of Italian meat sauce pasta, “In exchange, may I try yours?”

The deliciousness of the tomato meat sauce made it hard for Vivian to say no, “Help yourself.” She gestured with her eyes to the fork beside Alajos’ hand.

Alajos just looked at her, showing no intention of moving.

Next to them, Simpson propped his chin with his hand, watching them with interest, a smile playing on his lips making Vivian flush with embarrassment.

To escape this awkward situation, she took the fork and twirled a few strands of the meat sauce-coated pasta, bringing it to Alajos’ mouth.

Alajos leaned in, opened his mouth, and ate the pasta, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on Vivian, filled with desire, a lascivious look.

Under his gaze, Vivian’s breathing became rapid, her hand holding the fork trembling slightly, the delicious taste of the Italian meat sauce pasta almost imperceptible to her now.

Simpson’s playful gaze was barely there; he perfectly avoided Alajos and exchanged a glance with Vivian.

Vivian paused in her breath, bowing her head completely before Alajos noticed, pretending to focus on finishing her dinner.

Night always fell quickly, but this bustling city never had a true night; there were people partying all night long, in bars, KTVs, in front of apartment radios…

Vivian was very tired; Luzia’s music library was too extensive for her to listen to in its entirety. Luzia could only regretfully turn off the radio and went back to her room to shower off the sweat from dancing.

After washing up, Vivian climbed into bed, snuggled the soft pillow, yawned with fatigue, and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

The entire apartment fell into a long silence; the twisted space conjured the bustle of the restaurant’s lights, the smooth piano music turned tumultuous from the moment Vivian entered; she looked up to see Alajos’ knife severing the man’s carotid artery, the sound of blood gushing, the man’s throat gurgling as it was slit, and the terror, resentment, and unwillingness in his eyes as he glared at Vivian, his mouth opening and closing as if to spew the most vicious curse in the world.