Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Chapter 53



Luzia regained her liveliness, which eased Vivian’s mind. She slumped onto the couch, the war on the television paused, and the main characters entered a brief moment of joy, which was Vivian’s favorite part of the plot.

“I don’t want to go out,” Vivian tightened the blanket around her, “I feel weak all over, and I’m in a bad mood.”

“When you’re in a bad mood, that’s when you need to go out and find joy. We can go to the amusement park, get our nails done, or have a massage… How about a massage to relax your body?”

“No, Luzia, I really don’t want to,” Vivian shook her head.

“Watching 70s TV dramas here won’t give you strength; you need to pull yourself together.”

Vivian managed a tired smile, “You go, good girl, I really don’t want to move.”Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“Fine.” Persuasion failed, and Luzia could only sit down, pick up a throw pillow from the couch, and watch the TV series with Vivian. This was probably Vivian’s favorite film and television series. Only when she chatted with Vivian about the plot would Vivian muster the energy to introduce the story background to her.

Luzia probably wasn’t the type to sit quietly. Making her stay in the apartment all day to watch TV with Vivian would probably bore her. No matter how exciting the plot, it couldn’t lift her spirits. Vivian had seen her nodding off while hugging her knees more than once.

Vivian glanced back at Mare, who was sitting on a single couch not far from her, sitting upright, unwavering. From his position, he could see Vivian and the entire television.

Vivian didn’t know if he was also engrossed in the plot, but she was grateful that Mare and Luzia were willing to spend a day watching TV with her instead of insisting she go out. If Alajos were here today, he would surely have sternly said, “Vivian, I command you to go shopping now.”

Vivian hummed to herself, silently cursing Alajos.

Dictatorial!

Tyrannical!

Unreasonable!

The elevator rang “ding,” startling Vivian for no reason. She quickly looked up at the clock hanging on the living room wall. Was Alajos back early?

Vivian wanted to ask Mare if he probably knew Alajos’s schedule. But before she could turn around, Mare rushed up to her.

He yelled at Vivian to get down, swiftly pulling out his gun and aiming it at the entrance. Startled by Vivian’s pulling, Luzia was just about to scream and ask what was happening when Vivian covered her mouth and pressed her down under the couch.

The door clicked open, and Vivian, from behind the couch, heard Mare’s furious roar, “Damn it! You should have told me you were coming early!”

Vivian got up from behind the couch and saw Simpson at the door, smiling brightly. He was wearing a burgundy suit, with his hair neatly styled. “Are you guys playing a game?”

Vivian got up from the floor, dusting off the dirt, her tone not the best, “Stop joking, we thought you were Bratva.”

Vivian pointed to the gun in Mare’s hand, threatening, “Mare will blow your head off.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Simpson shrugged, ignoring Mare’s icy gaze. “I came to invite you to a party.”

“Really?” Luzia, who had been cooped up in the apartment all day, was excited, “Where is the party being held?”

“It’s at a club. Once you get there, you’ll know where it is. But for now, let’s keep it a mystery.”

“I don’t want to go,” Vivian crossed her arms, refusing, “I don’t want to go out today.”

Luzia completely misunderstood Vivian’s resistance, “I got a beautiful dress; it’s perfect for the occasion.”

Vivian was sure Luzia was feeling cooped up because she was too excited, not giving Vivian a chance to refuse again.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time, Simpson. What have you been up to?”

“I was just on a business trip for a month, just doing my job, no need to worry, I’m very safe.” Simpson sat on the couch. “Alright, dear girls, you should get ready.”

“No.” Vivian was infuriated that Simpson ignored her opinion. She refused again, “Please take Luzia, you guys can have fun, but I don’t want to attend. I just want to stay in the apartment, perhaps I should go to bed.”

“Don’t be rash, Vivian. You have a reason to attend tonight’s party.”

“So what?” Vivian’s eyes were about to shoot fire,”I have to follow your orders?”

This argument was going nowhere. Simpson, impatient with Vivian’s resistance, simply lifted her onto his shoulder and headed upstairs.

Mare tried to stop him, but was given a stern look, “Don’t waste time, Mare.”

“Let me down,” Vivian struggled on Simpson’s shoulder, hitting his back and waist, “Simpson!”

Simpson paid no attention to her feeble efforts, carrying Vivian through the hallway into Alajos’s room, tossing her onto the bed, and then turning to open the closet. He pulled out a few casual-style dresses, plain, simple, and understated, not fitting his taste.

He shook his head, “Where are your other clothes? You need some exquisite, gorgeous dresses to showcase your graceful figure. You should be dazzling. These won’t do for tonight’s party.”

“I don’t think my husband would want others to see me with a low neckline, especially when he’s not around.”

“Don’t worry, even if Alajos isn’t here, I can assure you no man will dare to gaze at your cleavage for long.”

Vivian glared at him.

Simpson smiled, “The club where the party is being held is co-operated by Alajos and me. As the hostess, you need to dress up. Alajos will also be at tonight’s party, you don’t have to worry about uncouth ruffians.”

“Relax, Vivian, you’re too tense.”

“I’m not tense,” Vivian retorted, “I’m just annoyed. I don’t want to go out, don’t want to attend the party, but you won’t listen to me, will you?”

Simpson nodded, unapologetic, “No, I won’t.”

Angrily, Vivian huffed as Simpson carried her to the closet. She chose an evening gown suitable for the party, low-cut, narrow-waisted, with a long skirt adorned with snowflake-shaped crystals.

“It’s a beautiful dress, you’ll look stunning in it,” Simpson turned to the balcony, gentlemanly.

Vivian carried the dress into the bathroom, her desire to stay indoors reaching its peak at this moment. She had to take off her comfortable, loose casual wear and put on the bra and panties that matched the evening gown. Every move seemed so perfect, mechanical, like a puppet being manipulated.

She was indeed a puppet being manipulated, destined to spend her miserable life in this marriage, devoid of freedom.

Perhaps jumping from the balcony of the high-rise now would set her free?

Vivian was startled by her own thoughts; she must have been too angry to have such irrational thoughts.

Struggling with the zipper of the dress at the back, Vivian had to step out of the bathroom for help.


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