Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Bryson walked with Vivian along the long path outside the church. As they slowly approached the entrance, the double doors of the church swung open before them. The solemn and sacred music of the wedding flowed smoothly; the attendees arranged on either side rose to their feet at the moment the doors opened, casting a medley of gazes onto Vivian-joyous, curious, indifferent…

Yet Vivian felt nothing; her gaze was already captivated by the man at the end of the aisle-her husband, Alajos.

Bryson didn’t linger at the entrance; he escorted Vivian into the church, towards Alajos. With each step, her heartbeat quickened, her legs began to tremble and shake; she felt unstable, and had it not been for her father’s support, she would have turned and fled.

But it was too late; they had reached Alajos. At the moment her father released her hand, Alajos took it, gently pulling, and she stood by his side.

They ascended the steps together, the priest awaiting them with a benevolent and forgiving smile, beginning to recite God’s will.

The whole ceremony was solemn and sacred, with people blessing the union of the man and woman in traditional ways. Only Vivian’s thoughts wandered; she couldn’t settle down to listen seriously to the priest.

Stealing a glance at Alajos, she had to admit-aside from not being able to offer her love, he was indeed a perfect husband. Handsome, with sharp and distinct features, and full of vitality, his dark circles were gone, his brown eyes clear and bright, betraying no sign of a sleepless night.

His physique was impressive, too. Although Vivian had not seen his naked body, she could feel the strength of his muscles and his form even through his suit. He was like a lion in the midst of a hunt, vibrant and majestic.

And yet, he was also a dangerous killer. In their brief eye contact, Vivian clearly saw the desire flashing in his eyes.

Vivian’s breathing grew heavier.

The priest concluded his prayer, and they began their vows, “I promise to protect…,” “In sickness and in health…,” “For richer or poorer…,” the traditional content of the vows reflected tradition, not how much Alajos loved Vivian or how deep Vivian’s feelings for Alajos were.

The vows ended, and it was time to exchange rings. Alajos slid the wedding ring he had prepared onto her finger, a small band that felt like a heavy chain, shackling her firmly by his side.

Vivian’s hand trembled.

Alajos’s brown eyes stared intently at her, signaling it was time for her to place the ring on his finger.

Vivian picked up the ring.

Alajos placed his hand in hers, and with shaking hands, Vivian finally fitted the ring onto his finger, binding them to each other in that moment.

The audience in the hall erupted in cheers of blessing as Alajos cupped her face, preparing to kiss her.

Vivian’s heart was a whirlpool of fear; she quickly closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling with fright.

Alajos must have sensed her fear, for Vivian heard a very low, mocking laugh from him, audible only to her. Annoyed, she was about to open her eyes when she felt Alajos’s lips on hers, sucking, nibbling, dominating all her senses, forcing her to open her mouth to his probing tongue.

The cheers around them grew even louder as Alajos finally released Vivian, whose legs were now weak and heart racing. She nearly fainted in his arms.

It was terrifying. Vivian felt a pain on her lips; Alajos must have bitten her. Tears were threatening to escape again.

Just moments ago, she thought Alajos would consume her.

She wanted to run, but the wedding ring on her hand reminded her that she had no way out. She had become the wife of a Capo, bound to spend a long life with Alajos, his subordinates keeping a close watch on her, ensuring her safety and cutting off any route of escape.

I hope I don’t go insane, Vivian prayed helplessly in her heart.

…

The wedding reception was arranged on the large lawn outside the church, with guests mingling and holding their glasses of wine. Alajos, too, was pulled aside to drink.

The wedding was undoubtedly a luxurious success, the perfect wedding Vivian had dreamed of, if only with the wrong partner. But she couldn’t truly hate Alajos; they had spent too little time together. As she had said, aside from not being able to share emotions, Alajos was a perfect marriage partner.

But what was the use? She had no choice.

“Care for a drink?” Simpson approached her, holding up a glass, “To the beautifulbride.”

“You know I don’t drink,” Vivian couldn’t reciprocate his toast.

“What does it matter? If you can’t drink, you learn,” Simpson offered the champagne to her, “Our tradition is to pair every meal with fine wine. A bit of champagne should be nothing for you.”

“No,” Vivian refused, “I’ll get drunk. I mean, today is my wedding, and I have important things to handle.”

Simpson kept his gaze on her.

Vivian swallowed, trying not to appear too nervous, “I still need to attend to my husband.”

“Don’t worry, this little alcohol won’t affect your wedding night,” Simpson shrugged, placing down the glass, “If you insist, then no drink.”

“However, your husband would like to dance with you now,” Simpson whispered to her.

Vivian looked across the dance floor with him, and Alajos was also looking in their direction, his gaze resting on Vivian’s perfect curves.

“Go on, have fun,” Simpson gestured with his glass towards Alajos.

Alajos mirrored the gesture, his eagle-like eyes fixing on her firmly. Vivian felt a surge of apprehension.

She couldn’t look at Alajos directly anymore and turned to walk towards the restroom, pulling Luzia with her as she passed by.

Luzia was startled; she had been in a daze all day, and Vivian guessed it had something to do with her brother, Joseph.

Poor girl, what can I really do for you?

Vivian felt irritable. She turned on the tap, cupped some water, and splashed it directly onto her face. The cold water stimulated her senses, giving her a moment of clarity.

Luzia gasped, “What are you doing? You’ll ruin your makeup.”

“I just want to clear my head,” Vivian steadied herself against the sink, taking a deep breath.

“Are you still nervous about the wedding night?” Luzia sounded surprised.

“I think I’m more afraid of losing my freedom,” Vivian showed her the wedding ring, “It feels like a chain, binding me.”

“No, it’s just a wedding ring. It’s a symbol of your union with Alajos, it won’t affect your freedom, and Alajos won’t keep you imprisoned in his apartment,” Luzia hugged her, smiling, but her eyes carried sadness.

Vivian knew the reason for her sorrow but couldn’t offer much comfort. They were both pitiable, unable to steer their own lives.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.