Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“Of course, I know,” Vivian said, “don’t forget, Simpson, I am the daughter of the Jones family, and I am also Capo’s child.”

“I know love is a weakness, a great danger, but that doesn’t conflict with my desire to be loved.”

“I’m glad to see you so clear-headed,” Simpson replied, touching her head. “Now, we should leave here before Alajos comes back.”

“He’s coming back this early? He usually goes out for the entire day.” Alajos’s business was substantial, and she had been staying here for several days now, with Alajos never returning early.

“He is busy, that’s true. But he has been trying to cut down on his working hours recently, and his efficiency has increased a lot. Of course, he wants to have dinner with you today.”NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

Vivian was surprised, “Today?”

“Yes.” Simpson closed the room’s door, “I came to take you there, and Luzia will come with us.”

“Why the sudden desire to invite me to dinner?” Vivian asked. “I mean, I could have gone on my own.”

“It’s not the same, you need more attention.”

“Why?”

“Because you will be our new family member. Welcome, we will get along very well.” Simpson pushed Vivian towards her room, “Now, you should change into something pretty.”

Alajos had prepared many beautiful clothes for Vivian, a variety of tops, pants, skirts, and even dresses. She had also bought some skirts she liked on the day she went shopping with Luzia, including the blue long dress Simpson was now holding.

Though it was revealing, wearing it would entirely expose Vivian’s beautiful collarbones to the gaze of men, and even her breasts would be supported, creating an enticing cleavage.

Vivian loved this dress the most because its design accentuated her hip curves perfectly, creating the illusion of longer legs, which kept her from appearing short.

Aesthetically, Simpson really had a good eye, plus he was witty and humorous, much more approachable than Alajos, whose cold and authoritarian demeanor could be infuriating.

Vivian remembered the affection Simpson had once confessed to her, and she had thought if only her betrothed were Simpson instead of Capo, perhaps he could give her the love Capo couldn’t.

But her father’s wishes were not to be defied. If they could be, she wouldn’t want to marry at all.

Vivian didn’t want to wear the blue dress, it was too revealing, but Simpson insisted, “He likes the color blue.”

He was referring to Alajos.

Vivian angrily snatched the dress, “Am I supposed to start pleasing him now? Will he skimp on my dinner if I don’t?”

Simpson laughed at her question, “Don’t talk in anger, Vivian.”

“I might be his wife, but I am not his plaything.”

“That’s absolute.” Simpson apologized, “I just think you will look beautiful in this dress.”

“It will end up in your closet, and I believe you really like it. Did you buy it just to let it gather dust?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why not wear it to show off your beauty?” Simpson put the dress back in Vivian’s hands, coaxingly saying, “Good girl, go change. Tonight, all the other girls will pale in your radiance, and the men’s gaze will linger on you.”

“Besides the dress, is there anything else you’d like to decide for me?” Vivian couldn’t refuse Simpson, but her tone chilled, speaking sarcastically, “Is it my shoes? Or my hair? Perhaps the bag I should carry?”

“That’s not my expertise,” Simpson whispered close to her ear, “after all, I am a man. Men are only good at taking off a woman’s sexy dress, not noticing the color of the bag she carries or the shoes she wears.”

Vivian felt a sense of danger when he came close; the warm breath he exhaled brushed past her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

In her room with the door firmly shut, they were so close that she could have kissed his cheek-she had never been so close to a man, let alone the brother of her fiance!

Vivian’s heartbeat turned erratic, and her hands trembled uncontrollably at the thought of the word-taboo.

Vivian dared not stay any longer; she took the dress into the bathroom. After closing the door, she could no longer see Simpson, but she heard the sound of the room door opening and then closing.

Simpson must have left her room.

This realization let Vivian breathe a sigh of relief. She began to take off her clothes and put on the blue dress.

The dress was long, almost covering her ankles, and with high heels, only her white instep was revealed. The waistlinewas tailored to hug her figure, showcasing irresistible curves. The neckline plunged low, yet her full figure made the cleavage distinct and undeniably sexy.

The color of the dress complemented her sea-blue eyes, which pleased her the most.

Having swept her hair up, Vivian’s neck, graceful as a swan’s, was exposed. A pearl necklace added a touch of elegance, and her earrings matched with pearl drops.

With her makeup done, simple yet featuring mascara and lipstick on top of a thin foundation, her beauty was uncompromised.

Opening the door, Vivian could tell by Simpson’s reaction that her look was a triumph.

To her surprise, Simpson had also changed into formal attire-a wine-red suit that wrapped his toned body, the kind that could make girls blush and hearts race.

“You’re more beautiful than I imagined,” Simpson said, stepping towards her with a gentleman’s bow, even reaching to touch her white neck as if to say, “Your neck looks quite delicious.”

Vivian shuddered slightly, dodging Simpson’s touch. His gaze made her nervous, “You’re no vampire.”

“Of course, it’s a compliment,” he replied.

“No one takes such threats as compliments, sir.”

Simpson chuckled, checked the time, and said, “We should leave now. My brother is waiting for us at the restaurant.”

“He’s already there?”

“Yes, Luzia is there as well, just waiting for you, my beautiful sister-in-law.”

“Please move your eyes away from my chest when you call me sister-in-law.”

Touching his nose with a smile, Simpson said, “A liking for sensual women is a common fault among men, my brother included.”

With a cold huff, Vivian turned and descended the stairs.

Simpson followed her.

Mare had the car ready; he would personally drive them to the restaurant where Alajos was waiting.

…

Vivian was familiar with this restaurant; she had been here with her father and brothers. Vilem had told her it was owned by the Famiglia, and the proprietor was Catlito, a fifty-year-old, rotund gentleman.

Upon entering the restaurant, Vivian immediately spotted Alajos-he stood out even in a crowd, an exemplary man whose presence was unmistakable.