Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Chapter 145



Skid-! Festus slammed on the brake, eyes wide as billows of black smoke filled the sky, his expression beyond terror.

It was his lifelong nightmare!

Shelley lay in the ruins of the warehouse after the explosion, a massive beam crashed down from above, hitting the man dragging her, splattering his brain on impact.

Shelley, too, was impacted, her head thudding against the wall, leaving her mind blank. Yet, the most agonizing was the incessant reverberating boom, piercing her mind sharply.

Soon, Shelley noticed something more alarming; despite the loud noise in her head, why couldn’t she hear the gunfire inside and outside the warehouse?

Warm, wet liquid slid down her cheek from her ear. Shelley wanted to touch it, but her limbs were tightly bound by ropes, making movement arduous.

Blind and unable to touch, Shelley’s panic amplified infinitely. Was it blood? Was her eardrum ruptured? Was she going deaf?

Despair overwhelmed her, but even her cries seemed muffled, as if trapped in a glass jar, inaudible.

What should she do? How would she make it? Who would come to her rescue? Was anyone coming to save her?

Father…

Mother…

Festus…

Where are you? Why isn’t anyone coming to save me…

Please, I beg you, come and rescue me!

Save me…

Save me…

“No!” Vivian woke from the nightmare, sweat beading on her forehead.

Alajos sat on the edge of the bed, embracing her, soothingly running his hand through her hair. “What’s wrong, Vivian? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yeah, I dreamt…” Vivian rested her head on Alajos’s shoulder, trying to speak, but her long eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings as tears welled up, choking her words in her throat.

She wanted to say that she dreamt of Shelley calling for help, but in reality? The voice filled with sadness and despair wasn’t Shelley’s. Whose voice was it? Vivian didn’t dare to dwell on it.

“What did you dream?” Alajos asked softly.

Vivian shook her head, unwilling to speak.

“What about Shelley? Any news?” Vivian grabbed Alajos’s sleeve, peering past him at the long sofa in the sickroom.

Luzia lay there, exhausted, quickly drifting into a deep sleep. Alajos covered her with a thin blanket.

“Festus will bring her back safely, believe in him, okay?” Alajos kissed Vivian’s forehead gently, “The doctor said you need to ensure sufficient sleep now. Can you sleep for me?”

“But I…”

Alajos’s hand blocked Vivian’s view, firm yet gentle, “Sleep, be a good girl.”

“Okay.” Vivian couldn’t refuse Alajos and obediently lay down.

Alajos tucked her in.

Before closing her eyes, Vivian extracted a promise from Alajos, “When they come back, if I’m still asleep, please wake me up, okay?”

Alajos promised her, “Rest assured, sleep. I’ll watch over you all.”

As Vivian drifted into a deep sleep, Alajos quietly left the sickroom, calling Simpson. The explosion sounded as Simpson answered the phone, like an ominous bell tolling.

Alajos’s heart skipped irregularly, unease spreading within him. He almost shouted, “Why the explosion? Are you alright? Simpson? Simpson!”

Though mentally prepared, Simpson was still covered in dust from the explosion, he quickly retreated under cover with his men, spitting out sand accidentally ingested, coughing sadly.

“Hey, Alajos?”© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Hearing Simpson still lively, Alajos let out half a sigh of relief, but the other half lingered high due to the unexplained explosion. “What’s going on?”

The intense gunfire continued, occasional explosions raising gusts of wind, weakening Simpson’s voice. He had to shout to answer Alajos’s question, “That maniac Richard, he planted bombs near the warehouse, I damn…”

Another explosion erupted, igniting the debris piled in the corner of the warehouse, perfect kindling for a raging fire.

Simpson held the phone in one hand, gun in the other, staring wide-eyed as the warehouse was engulfed in flames, his mind filled with curses.

He realized in horror-Shelley was still inside the warehouse!

The combustibles at the explosion site were stacked by Richard, the warehouse’s consumption by fire was within his expectations-he never planned to live through today!

Richard knew his brother Charles well, Charles lacked the courage to confront him face to face.

The rapidly spreading fire blocked Simpson and his team’s rescue, but it didn’t stop their bullets aimed at Richard. The madman held a remote control, and who knew how many bombs were buried near the warehouse.

Richard’s wheelchair had beenpushed into a corner, concealed by towering shelves. Bullets were constantly deflected by the metal racks, any scratches left on him failed to halt his maniacal laughter.

The remote control was pressed again, a bomb on the right side of the warehouse detonated. The thunderous explosion shook the earth, and those outside the warehouse heard Richard’s triumphant shout amidst the flames, “Charles, you coward, I didn’t misjudge you, hahaha!”

Where are you hiding now, Charles?

In the Benoist family’s mansion?

No!

Shelley was kidnapped, she’s your and Celinda’s only child. If you don’t save her, you’re definitely keeping it from Celinda and Washington. If Shelley dies, can you face Celinda again?!

Richard laughed manically, the hatred in his eyes bursting with excitement.

“Let’s die together, Charles! Let’s go to hell together!”

Boom!

Amidst Richard’s mad laughter, the explosions sounded one after another, mixed with crackling flames and piercing, terrifying screams.

Shelley was trapped in the inferno, the searing heat surrounding her, the sensation of burning pain engulfing her.


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