Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

The safe exit led directly to the ground floor, but the ground floor exit was already blocked by the Bratva. Mare swore under his breath and, with Vivian in tow, charged up to the second floor.

Everywhere was a chaotic crowd, congested on every escape route. The once bustling and prosperous shopping mall had become a maddening cage. The criminals brandished their guns, firing wildly, warm blood splattering up to three feet high. The sharp screams of women, the wails of infants, and the curses of men pierced Vivian’s eardrums, as she clutched her abdomen, feeling a dull ache.

But Vivian dared not show any sign of distress. She feared becoming a burden to Mare, feared being caught by the Bratva, feared death.

“There!” A bearded Russian, his gaze sharp, locked onto Mare and Vivian’s direction through the dense crowd. He shouted, simultaneously raising his gun and firing.

Bang! A man in front of Vivian was hit in the shoulder, blood splattering as he let out a painful cry. Vivian’s heart quivered, a strong discomfort overcoming her, almost making her want to retch.

Several Bratva members came tumbling down the stairs, having been summoned by the bearded man, quickly closing in on Mare and Vivian.

Mare raised his hand and fired, aiming not at a person, but at the crystal chandelier on the corridor ceiling.

Mare’s ambush was not the best, but that depended on who he was being compared to. His ambush was indeed no match for Emmert, but that was the extent of it.

The crystal chandelier fell with a resounding crash, landing squarely on the Bratva members responsible for the pursuit, engulfing them in sudden darkness and chaos. Mare pulled Vivian into a luxury store on the second floor, kicking open a small door amidst the screams of the staff.

The pursuing Bratva followed closely, firing a shot into the wall and cursing loudly before rushing after them.

Vivian used to frequent this luxury store. She and Luzia had once passed through this door, knowing that behind it was a staff corridor with a freight elevator leading directly to the underground parking garage.

“You go first,” Mare pushed her towards the staircase. “I’ve already informed Alajos; he’s bringing people over, and Diego is waiting for you in the underground garage.”

“Don’t take the elevator. It would be disastrous if someone is lurking at the elevator exit.”

Vivian hadn’t engaged in such strenuous activity for a long time. Her legs were sore and weak, not just from exhaustion but also from fear.

She clung tightly to the handrail, fearing her knees would give way, “What about you?”

“I’ll take care of the tail.” Mare urged her to hurry. “I will come to meet you.”

Vivian wanted to say “No,” but the words wouldn’t come out. She knew that by staying here, she would only hinder Mare.

“Stay safe, Mare,” Vivian said with difficulty, “for Luzia’s sake.”

Mare was taken aback. He instinctively wanted to deny it, to say “What are you talking about,” but when his eyes met Vivian’s determined gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to deny it. He didn’t know if his thoughts were too obvious or if Vivian’s observation was too keen, but she had truly seen through him.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

At that moment, Mare didn’t want to deny it anymore. “You stay safe too, for Alajos…” He glanced at Vivian’s belly, “for…”

For the child.

Vivian gritted her teeth and turned, rushing down the spiral staircase.

Her condition was not good. The intense running had left her tired, her lower abdomen aching. Her gown was too large and hindered her steps; in the chaos of escape, she had even lost a slipper.

Vivian couldn’t worry about that now. She kicked off the remaining slipper, tied up the loose hem of her gown around her waist, and, clutching onto the handrail, sprinted as fast as she could towards the ground floor. Just then…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Consecutive gunshots rang out above her. Vivian’s scalp tingled, and she instinctively huddled, seeking cover.

It was Mare!

He was engaged in a firefight with the enemy.

As Vivian looked up in astonishment, a dark figure fell from above and landed heavily on the ground.

Mare!

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and a nauseating desire to vomit surged. Vivian clutched the handrail tightly, her body bent over as she retched loudly, tears of both pain and despair welling up in her eyes. She dared not look at the figure that had fallen not far from her, fearing it might be a familiar face, fearing it might be Mare.

What should Ido?

What should I do?

There was a voice in her head, screaming incessantly, repeating the same helpless sound. She instinctively curled up, imagining herself as an ostrich, burying her head in the sand. If she didn’t see, didn’t hear, didn’t think, she would be safe.

Until the figure moved a finger within her peripheral vision, and alongside him, a handgun dropped to the ground.

Vivian shuddered, looking up, and was met with an unfamiliar, terrifying face.

Suddenly, she let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t Mare.

Thank goodness it wasn’t Mare.

But then, a sense of horror gripped her. A chill ran up her spine.

The man, severely wounded and barely clinging to life, recognized Vivian. He struggled to aim the gun at her, the barrel pointed at her abdomen.

In that moment, Vivian’s mind was clouded. She didn’t know where she found the courage, but she charged forward, brandishing a dagger, and ruthlessly plunged it into the man’s chest.

When the first stab missed, she stabbed again, and again, until the man’s wrist went limp, his pupils dilated. Vivian stabbed one last time.

Squelch!

The sharp dagger pierced flesh, making a squelching sound, splattering thick blood, dampening Vivian’s soft, white hands and staining her flawless face, but she was oblivious, her eyes vacant, wielding the blade as if possessed.

“Vivian!” Mare embraced her from behind, avoiding her flailing dagger and seizing her hand.

Mare’s grip was strong, firmly holding Vivian’s wrist. She screamed and struggled, but couldn’t break free.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Vivian.” Mare patted her face, calling her name repeatedly. “Vivian! Look at me, we’re both okay!”

“Mare?” Vivian seemed to startle awake from a nightmare, trembling all over. Her gaze drifted to Mare’s face, where a fresh wound had appeared on his jaw. “Are you hurt?”

Seeing Vivian come to her senses, Mare breathed a sigh of relief. Exhaustion and pain surged through him; he spat out blood, feeling like his back had been blasted against a wall.

His breath grew increasingly fiery, each inhalation laden with the taste of blood, as if his lungs were burning.

Mare discreetly prodded his rib, self-diagnosing. He was certain that he had at least two broken ribs. But he didn’t dare let Vivian know. Her complexion was too poor, pallid with a hint of gray, as if she was barely hanging on.

“Just a little scratch,” Mare wiped the blood from his face, picked up the dead man’s handgun from the ground, and supported Vivian as they helped each other stand. “We must leave here as soon as possible.”