Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

The deputy hadn’t thought things would become this dire. Time was running short and he couldn’t think of where they could escape to. “Where do we go?”

“Bratva,” Richard said without hesitation.

The deputy nodded, about to leave, when Richard had a change of heart. “Wait.”

He stopped the deputy. “Bratva may not be reliable. They have angered Alajos, and Alajos will surely come after them.” To appease Alajos’ anger, Bratva might even hand them over.

But besides Bratva, who else could take them in, even if it meant offending Houston?

Los Angeles?

Yes, Los Angeles!

“We’re going to Los Angeles, prepare a private plane. We’re flying to Los Angeles tonight.”

They both knew that Capo Bryson’s generous assistance to Houston had a true motive – to take over Houston, to replace Alajos as Houston’s new owner!

If he could seek refuge with Bryson with Houston’s confidential documents, Bryson would surely be willing to take them in.

“We’re going to Los Angeles!” Richard said firmly.

With the destination confirmed, the deputy no longer hesitated. He quickly went to contact Richard’s men at various locations to make arrangements. Of course, not everyone could go to the airport to board the private plane. Some would be assigned to confuse pursuers, while others would launch an armed attack on Houston’s warehouse, pretending to be a Bratva assault. Only a small group of elites could personally protect Richard and fly to Los Angeles, ensuring their true safety.

The deputy was certainly one of the elite few, so for the sake of his own life, he would certainly ensure that everything about the escape was properly arranged.

Richard was not worried about this.

Richard emerged from his study and slipped into his bedroom.

His wife had passed away a long time ago, and he had never brought a lover home to spend the night. This was his own bedroom, secluded, private, perfect for hiding things that shouldn’t be seen – partial maps of Houston’s arms smuggling routes and the confidential location managed by the Benoist family.

These things would be his gift to Bryson, and with this, he would gain refuge in Los Angeles.

Taking the items out of the safe, Richard made sure that they were securely packed. He vowed not to let these things leave him by more than an arm’s length. He slumped onto the bed, waiting for the signal to depart.

In these brief ten minutes of waiting, Richard stared blankly at the floor in front of him. Perhaps many questions and thoughts flashed through his mind. He didn’t know how he had come to this point today. His only son, John, had been killed by Alajos. He had lost the right to vie for control of the Benoist family, and his power had been undermined by Alajos and Charles. Now, he had even fallen to the point of fleeing Houston to beg for refuge in Los Angeles.

Or perhaps his mind was blank, and he didn’t have time to think. The moment of escape had come swiftly.

It would take time to rally the men, but Richard couldn’t wait for that. When the deputy hurriedly came to tell him that only a few men were in position, Richard made up his mind. “We’re not waiting, we’re leaving now!”

As the sky darkened, three or four black cars stopped in front of Richard’s villa. Each car was filled with four or five bodyguards, each carrying assault rifles and shotguns, with several hand grenades strapped to their waists.

Even Richard was flanked by two tall, sturdy bodyguards in the back seat of the car. He too held a Colt M2000 loaded with bullets, with two homemade grenades in his pocket.

“Quick, let’s go!” Richard urged the driver.

Under his urgent prodding, the driver, inevitably nervous, pressed down on the accelerator. The black cars sped out at seventy miles per hour, and as they continued, they grew faster and faster until they reached the deserted, straight highway at a speed of 120.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

This speed was truly too fast. The driver cautiously steered the car, gradually applying the brakes to slow down a bit. But Richard was too sharp. As the speeding car slowed down, he noticed. “What are you doing? Why are you slowing down? Don’t slow down! Are you sent by Alajos?”

Richard’s neurotic questioning and the gun pressed against the driver’s head nearly scared him to death, afraid that if Richard got too agitated, he might accidentally pull the trigger.

The driver’s sudden action also successfully startled the deputy. The massive steel beast momentarily lost control, swerving in an alarming “S” shape on the deserted road. Luckily, the driver’s professionalism at the crucial moment saved the lives of the five people in the car.

“Boss, I’m not…” The driver tightly gripped the steering wheel, shooting pleading looks atthe deputy with a shiver of fear in his eyes.

Regardless of whether he was or not, they were all in the same car now!

The deputy wiped a cold sweat in his mind and looked to Richard. “Sir, rest assured, he is someone we can trust. The key now is to get to the airport as quickly as possible…”

Bang!

Just as the deputy was trying to soothe Richard’s emotions, a car suddenly shot out from the right fork in the road, directly colliding with their car. The tremendous impact nearly threw them out, and the driver, in an emergency, slammed on the brakes. But in the darkness, another car suddenly appeared, ramming into them once again.

With the car traveling at high speed, the successive impacts and emergency braking finally led to a rollover. The shattered glass scattered all over, leaving long skid marks on the road. The doors were dented, blood and gasoline spilling out simultaneously, a scene of carnage that one could imagine without seeing it firsthand.

In the moment of the accident, the trailing drivers realized that this was a premeditated attack. They all raised their guns in vigilance as the driver, pressing the accelerator, tried to rush over to rescue them.

Gunshots rang out at that moment, one after another, forming a continuous barrage. Numerous vehicles emerged from the darkness, shining their headlights directly into the eyes of Richard’s men, forcing them to close their eyes to shield themselves. But in that moment of closure, they were met with a hail of deadly bullets.

Richard was trapped in the overturned car, a burly bodyguard’s weight pressing on his fractured leg, his internal organs bleeding from the impact, rising up to his throat and spilling out of his mouth.

He was severely injured, almost losing consciousness. His ears seemed damaged too, the sounds were muffled, as if covered by something.

But he recognized the gunfire and the man who walked up to the wrecked steel beast, his voice filled with regret, “What a shame for this McLaren…”

It was… it was…

Richard struggled to drag the man’s name from his fading consciousness.

It was Simpson!

Struggling to breathe, his lungs must have been injured. Every breath he took was accompanied by a wheezing sound from his throat.

They had come so quickly. Richard thought in despair, he hadn’t even managed to escape to the airport.