Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

There was no one in the room.

Joseph and Luzia were both not here.

So where could they be?

Vivian stood at the top of the stairs on the second floor. Up the stairs was the third floor, and down was the first floor.

The third floor was Mrs. Yazmin’s room. Joseph wouldn’t have taken Luzia up there, so could they be on the first floor?

Vivian held onto the handrail of the stairs, stepping lightly.

Just as she cautiously stepped onto the floor of the first floor, Mare, facing the living room through the French doors, caught sight of her at once. He paused, cursing silently, and then with force, he turned around, holding Luzia tightly, and left the French doors, hiding in a corner.

Mare’s sudden movement startled Luzia. Friction from the parts where they were tightly connected caused both of them to involuntarily let out a moan. Mare reacted the fastest, raising his hand to cover Luzia’s mouth. “Shh, Vivian.”

Mare glanced into the living room, signaling to Luzia.

Luzia widened her eyes, forgetting to even breathe.

She signaled to Mare to release her, silently forming the shape of a mouth, “She can’t see.”

Mare, of course, knew they couldn’t let Vivian find them, but from this corner, turning would lead them into the surveillance area. The only way to avoid surveillance was through the French doors, behind which was Vivian.

Both were dead ends; they couldn’t escape.

Vivian, who was in the living room searching for Joseph and Luzia, did not notice any movement from their side. She continued from the living room toward the banquet hall.

It was still early in the morning, and the people staying at the mansion were all still sound asleep. The villa was extremely quiet, with only the sound of Vivian’s footsteps audible.

The dim lighting around was not enough to illuminate every corner of the villa. With every piece of furniture passed, Vivian’s heart would beat a little faster. She was afraid that something might suddenly jump out from these dark shadows.

“Luzia?” Vivian’s faint voice trembled. “Are you here? Luzia?”

There was a rustling sound from behind her, causing Vivian to startle, almost jumping.

“Luzia?” Her voice trembled even more, almost as if she was about to cry. “Is that you?”

Vivian tried to echo where the sound had come from just now. Was it from the kitchen?

Vivian remembered that before going to bed, Luzia had said she wanted to drink cola and watch a movie. Could she be in the kitchen?

Vivian had been to Mrs. Yazmin’s estate several times, but she was not as familiar with the estate as Luzia. She did not know where the home theater was, but she knew the kitchen.

Vivian returned to the living room and made her way to the kitchen. “Luzia?”

“Ah, I’m, I’m here!” came Luzia’s slightly panicked voice from the kitchen.

Vivian did not notice, she was almost scared to death. “Where are you?”

“Here.” Luzia, with traces still not wiped clean off her body, hastily put on her clothes, grabbed a piece of fried chicken from the small round table, and raised her hand to scrape against the French doors. “I’m here.”

Luzia didn’t dare linger in front of the French doors. She was worried that Vivian would come over and spot Mare hiding in the shadow of the house.

She entered the room, closing the French doors behind her. “I’m hungry, I’m going to find something to eat downstairs.”

Vivian looked at the full piece of fried chicken in her hand, it didn’t look freshly fried. “Aren’t you cold?”

“It’ll be fine after a quick heat in the microwave.” Luzia headed to the microwave. “And another sip of cola…”

Luzia paused for a moment, realizing she didn’t know where her cola had gone.

Luckily, Luzia reacted quickly, and before Vivian could get suspicious, she opened the fridge and took out a new can of cola.

She pulled the tab of the can, taking a big gulp in front of Vivian. The carbonated drink stimulated her taste buds, satisfying her culinary exploration.

Luzia sighed contentedly. “Fried chicken with cola is simply delicious.”

Vivian chuckled, just as the microwave beeped, indicating their meal was ready.

Vivian walked over, and as soon as she opened the microwave door, the fragrant smell of the fried chicken wafted out. Vivian’s stomach grumbled.

Vivian held her stomach, her face turning slightly red. She hadn’t even noticed she was hungry.

Luzia couldn’t help but laugh. “It seems my little nephew or niece ishungry too.”

“It could also be a little niece,” Vivian said, trying to suppress the warmth rising in her face, as she put on heat-resistant gloves and took out the fried chicken.

Luzia leaned against the fridge, using the action of drinking cola to discreetly glance behind the French doors but couldn’t see Mare anywhere.

Until she was sure Mare had hidden well, Luzia breathed a sigh of relief, gathered her courage, and spoke to Vivian. “Have you checked the baby’s gender?”

“Dr. Yoshiye told us we could find out at 20 weeks, but I refused,” Vivian replied.

“Why?” Luzia tilted her head. “Don’t you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Vivian shook her head. “A boy or a girl, they are both my children, and I will love them both.”

“And once I know the gender, I won’t be able to help being afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes, afraid.” Vivian carried the fried chicken and looked puzzled.

As the child grew slowly in her womb, she had rarely felt confused, but occasionally, when emotions arose, she couldn’t help but fantasize about the child’s future. Once the speculation started, it inevitably involved the child’s gender.

Gender would determine the child’s position in the Mafia. Boys and girls in the Mafia were destined to follow different paths from birth.

Would they become soldiers for the Mafia, fighting to protect its honor?

Or would they become pawns, sacrificing their freedom to maintain the Mafia’s alliances?

Neither scenario was what Vivian hoped for.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Because she didn’t want this, she wanted to change it.

Because she couldn’t change it, she felt scared.

“Sometimes I wonder if keeping this child is the right thing to do,” Vivian placed the fried chicken on the kitchen island, took off the heat-resistant gloves and set them aside. “If it could choose, would it want to be my child? Would it willingly accept this fate?”

“But it’s already here,” Luzia took Vivian’s hand, wanting to comfort her. But as soon as she spoke, she realized all the comfort seemed too feeble in the face of helplessness. “Whether it’s willing or not, it’s already your child.”

“But I can choose to keep it or terminate it.”

“No,” Luzia shook her head. “Our faith does not allow you to terminate it.”

“I will feel happy about the arrival of this child, but I will also feel sad about its existence. I don’t know if I’m more happy or more sad.” Vivian opened a drawer, looking for disposable gloves. She opened two drawers in a row but didn’t find any. “Do you know where the gloves are?”

Luzia walked to the back of the kitchen island, and found the gloves under the cutlery cabinet. She handed them to Vivian. “Let’s focus on the happiness a little more.”

“There’s already so much sadness; we need a bit more happiness to dilute the sadness, otherwise life would be too bitter,” Luzia said, watching as Vivian put on the gloves, seeming to plan on getting rid of the fried chicken in the kitchen. Then, suddenly, her scalp tingled. “Vivian!”