Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Chapter 112



Adieu was located in a street of bars on the east side of the city. This was Houston’s famous nocturnal city-the Golden Nest, with daily flows of up to tens of millions of dollars. But that was the scene at night. Now, it was 2:15 in the afternoon, still not the official opening time for the bar street. The deserted street had only sporadic pedestrians. Bar staff took advantage of this lull to bring out a ladder to repair the awning outside. They conversed in low voices, frequently glancing at the newest McLaren parked in front of Adieu.

Adieu’s manager personally opened the car door for Alajos, but he didn’t enter the bar right away. Instead, he walked around to the other side of the car, gallantly opened the door for Vivian, and whispered to her to mind her head. The bar manager was almost dumbfounded. If it weren’t for maintaining his professional demeanor, he truly wanted to rub his eyes to check if he hadn’t slept well and was experiencing an illusion from last night. The big boss was actually smiling, and so tenderly? The bar manager felt a sense of terror!

Alajos’s hand affectionately rested at Vivian’s side, a protective posture. He led Vivian to the bar manager and said, “This is Fillid, the professional manager responsible for Adieu.” Fillid was very courteous and took the initiative to step forward with a smile. “Madam, hello, I am Fillid.”

“Hello, Fillid,” Vivian’s ladylike demeanor greatly helped her, preventing her from appearing timid in front of strangers. “Nice to meet you. We will be working together in the future. I am a novice and will need your guidance.”

“Madam is too kind,” Fillid said. “Boss, madam, the lounge is ready. Please follow me.”

Although Adieu was a well-known high-end bar, its business model was straightforward. Alajos had no intention of further expansion, so the bar’s real manager was only Fillid. Alajos was only responsible for significant events that Fillid couldn’t handle. Now that Vivian was involved in the bar’s operations, Alajos transferred most of his duties to her, telling Fillid, “Report to madam as you used to report to me.”

Fillid understood Alajos’s meaning. “Okay, boss.”

Most of the bar’s staff had gathered. They would perform a series of tasks before the official opening, such as counting the drinks, washing the fruits, baking the meals, and checking the facilities. The part-time DJ at the bar would be adjusting the sound on the stage, while the bartender stood in front of the bar wiping the glasses, instructing the servers on where to place the vodka in the liquor cabinet. Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.

Fillid stood at the railing on the second floor, explaining the bar’s layout, the distribution of security forces, and the underground boxing ring to Vivian.

“Underground boxing ring?” Vivian looked at Alajos in surprise. “There’s underground boxing here?”

“Over here.” Alajos led Vivian downstairs. “Most bars around here have similar gray businesses. Prizefighting is just a physical contest; it’s already considered the gentlest means of making money.”

Vivian fell silent. Her living environment meant she would never have the opportunity to visit an underground boxing ring. But that didn’t stop her from knowing what an underground boxing ring was and what prizefighting meant.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Now, Alajos summarily referred to this bloody and brutal sport as “the gentlest means of making money.” Vivian truly dared not imagine what the less gentle ways of making money could be. Was it holding a gun to someone’s head, ready to blow their brains out for saying the wrong thing?

Vivian didn’t know that there were plenty of torturous methods in the world. Compared to barely surviving on the edge of life and death, dying directly in the boxing ring was the most merciful.

Alajos also didn’t want to tell Vivian that, given the choice, Richard would rather stand in the boxing ring and be beaten to death.

The underground boxing ring was located on the negative first floor of the bar. Apart from the central platform, there were only a few VIP seats with leather sofas, and several maintenance workers were doing a final check on the platform.

“Adieu has stipulated that both the attacker and the defender must not abuse drugs, cannot use weapons, and the opponent must immediately withdraw from the match upon admitting defeat. These are restrictive clauses. In this area, this kind of boxing ring is relatively fair and has the highest survival rate,” Alajos casually leaned back in a sofa chair, introducing the rules of the boxing ring to Vivian. “Many people who want to make money but are unwilling to risk their lives come here for a gamble. We organize betting and also provide lending services with completely transparent interest rates.”

“Take your time getting acquainted; you have time to understand it,” Alajos said. “Fillid is responsible for teaching you.”

“Yes,” Fillid nodded at Vivian. “I am pleased to help you, madam.”

“I understand,” Vivian said. “I will work hard.”

After the tour of the underground boxing ring, Fillid led Alajos and Vivian back to the lounge on the second floor. This lounge belonged to Alajos. When he managed the bar before, he would occasionally spend the night here.

Fillid sat on a single sofa on the side, placing the bar’s profits and financial reports for the past six months, as well as more comprehensive information on VIP guests, in front of Vivian. Alajos had briefly explained the key points to her yesterday, and when Fillid went over them again, Vivian found that she understood a lot. Occasionally, when she encountered something she didn’t understand, she would ask again. She could resolve most of the basic questions.

As the operation model of the bar gradually became clear to her, Vivian’s confusion and uneasiness also dissipated somewhat.

Alajos had been with Vivian in the bar all along. As Fillid explained the bar’s operations to Vivian, he poured himself a glass of whiskey, listening to their back-and-forth.

Vivian listened attentively, and Alajos watched her with equal concentration. At some moments, Alajos also thought that having more of this kind of time seemed to be not much of a problem.

Dinner was eaten outside. Alajos took Vivian to a French restaurant he particularly liked, and they had a sumptuous and refined dinner. Vivian couldn’t eat caviar now, but she very much enjoyed the foie gras on toast.

After dinner, they returned to the bar. It had been open for nearly three hours. It was now 7:40 in the evening, and the neon lights outside had just been on for an hour. It wasn’t yet the peak period for the bar’s business, but there was already a large influx of customers inside.

Vivian sat in front of the bar, sipping on her lemon water, curiously observing the lively booths and dance floor. On the stage, a stripper was energetically performing a sensual pole dance, jazz music fueling the atmosphere to a climax. The young people were cheering and dancing wildly, as if they were already completely drunk without having had a drink.

The bartender served Alajos a Bloody Mary. He accepted it and tapped the glass containing Vivian’s lemon water. “Cheers.”

“What are you thinking?” Alajos leaned in close to her ear, ensuring she could hear him. “Have you been to a bar before?”


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