Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“What’s this?” Luzia took the object Simpson handed to her. “A phone?”

“This is a special communication device, you need to keep it with you,” Simpson said. “You are in Los Angeles, and all communication devices should be under Joseph’s control. He will monitor all your conversations with Houston. The phone I’m giving you is secure; you must hide it well.”

Luzia tightly held the phone in her hand, feeling somewhat bewildered and vaguely apprehensive. “Why are you giving me this?”

She swallowed and changed the subject, “What do you want me to do? Spy?”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

Simpson looked deeply into her eyes, expressing a hint of surprise that Luzia could guess their intentions so quickly, but he wasn’t taken aback.

Luzia might be a fragile girl, much like most mafia bosses’ daughters, overly protected by the family, untrained, and shielded from the real darkness, her timid nature still holding on to naive foolishness.

But Luzia wasn’t foolish.

“Yes,” Simpson affirmed her guess. “We need you, Luzia.”

“No!” Luzia was terrified and almost dropped the phone. She was trembling all over. “I can’t do it, I can’t.”

“You can do it, Luzia.”

“No! I’ll be discovered, Joseph will kill me,” Luzia screamed in terror.

Simpson immediately stepped forward and covered her mouth, preventing her from making too much noise. “Calm down, Luzia!”

Luzia cried out in fear under his hand, her terror-filled sobs escaping. She was too scared; she couldn’t do it.

Simpson let Luzia cry, he held her tightly, patting her back as if to soothe her.

Finally, Luzia cried until her head ached. Then, she turned her head and bit down on Simpson’s arm viciously.

Simpson let out a short “Ah!” and cursed under his breath, “Damn, that hurts!”

“That’s what I want, for you to feel pain!” Luzia’s cheeks were sore from the biting, and she still resented, “You want me dead, don’t you!”

“No one wants you dead, Luzia,” Simpson sighed and rubbed his sore arm, saying, “You are our sister, our family, you have a greater value. Wishing for your death is not a rational act.”

“Value?” Luzia opened her mouth wide, sitting back on the bed, crying, “Thank you for affirming me, but I can’t accept it.”

“Joseph is a terrifying devil, a complete antisocial. He hates anyone who opposes him, he will kill anyone who betrays him,” Luzia suppressed her howls, her despair suffocating.

“Then, before he kills you, kill him,” Simpson clenched his fists, rebuking, “You can’t escape, Luzia.”

Luzia hated Simpson so much.

Simpson didn’t continue to pressure Luzia. He didn’t need an immediate answer from her, but he needed Luzia to think clearly about the future. Even if Luzia couldn’t be their asset, she couldn’t be their obstacle.

“Bryson brought Vivian and his loyal followers. Vivian became Alajos’s weakness, Chaquille and Lopaka became his eyes and ears in Houston. They freely spied on all of Houston’s secrets, making Houston weak under Bratva’s attack.”

Simpson emphasized Los Angeles’s ambition with a heavy tone, “Both Bryson and Joseph are narrow-minded men. Their generosity towards Houston is only superficial. They are looking for an opportunity to overthrow Alajos, then kill him, and make Houston their complete slave…”

“Don’t say anymore!” Luzia shouted, telling Simpson to leave. “Get out, get out!”

Luzia was too agitated, enveloped in despair and sadness. Simpson knew he couldn’t communicate with her any further. He raised his hands, gesturing for Luzia to calm down.

“I hope you consider our proposal carefully. Of course, you can also choose to refuse,” he walked step by step to the door, considerately closing it behind him, “Goodnight, Luzia. I wish you sweet dreams.”

In response, Luzia threw a cotton pillow at Simpson, hitting the closed door. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the covers.

The muffled sobs were somewhat absorbed by the covers, but they couldn’t stop the sounds of her mournful weeping. Luzia despaired, thinking she should just go die now, then she wouldn’t have to endure this crying anymore.

But a strong will to survive gripped her rationality, roaring, how could you die, you can’t die, Joseph hasn’t been punished yet, Mel is still waiting for her, she should have a bright future.

Can she still have a bright future?

Luzia was very confused.

Tired of crying, she finally turned her whole face into the covers, feeling suffocated by the position. She had to turn over, lying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling, her eyes wide open.

If she could still have a future…

She hoped the future could be with Mare.

Mare…

Can I still have you?

…

3:30 AM, Alajos’s apartment.

Alajos opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of cold water, and drank half of it in one go, cooling down the heat in his body. The phone on the table buzzed, and he absentmindedly answered it.

As soon as the call connected, a fierce wind sound immediately rushed through the receiver, dispersing the explosion sounds from the fire.

“Respected Mr. Alajos,” the person on the other end exuded a sense of triumph, “We have not disappointed your expectations and bring you good news.”

Hearing the diluted explosion sound by the wind, Alajos knew their plan was successful. The Bratva warehouse in Los Angeles was destroyed, the attackers’ identities were well concealed, but the fleeing Bratva members discovered their identities-armed forces from Bryson!

How would those escaped Bratva members report to the Bratva leadership?

-Bryson’s armed forces attacked our warehouse, Bryson betrayed our alliance!

As long as this message reached the Bratva leadership, Bryson would be questioned by the Bratva, their plan would be halfway successful. The other half of the plan would mercilessly drag Bryson toward the abyss of death.

Alajos hung up the phone, finished the remaining half bottle of water, threw the plastic bottle into the trash, and went upstairs.

Vivian had returned from Mrs. Yazmin’s estate in the evening. There were too many people at the estate, and the longer Vivian stayed there, the greater the risk of exposure.

Fortunately, Mrs. Yazmin, although not understanding why Vivian insisted on returning to the apartment, didn’t ask much, only instructing Diego and Mel to safely escort Vivian back.

At this time, Vivian had already fallen asleep, and Alajos tried to step as lightly as possible, standing by the bed and looking down at Vivian’s sleeping face.

His heart was warm, and he reached out to touch her face but abruptly pulled back, suddenly awakened.

He had been increasingly off lately.

Alajos knew very well why. He was trying to control himself, but the effect wasn’t great.

He was the Capo of Houston, how could he indulge in love and expose his weakness to others?

So Alajos hoped to find a balance between restraint and indulgence.