Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

“Why?” Richard laughed bitterly, “Why are you asking me why?”

Signia, at Richard’s signal, pushed the wheelchair forward a few steps. Richard, using his hands, broken bone by bone by Alajos, gestured around. “Do you know where this place is?”

Shelley’s eyes followed Richard’s words, scanning the surroundings.

Houston’s warehouses all looked alike, crude, enclosed, emitting a suffocating stench due to the stagnant air.

Shelley did not know.

“Of course you wouldn’t know,” Richard said, “You are the little princess constructed of gold and silver by the Benoist family, adorned with the most expensive jewelry, wearing the most beautiful dresses. Your feet could never touch such dirty ground in a lifetime.”

“But!” Richard emphasized, his expression both mournful and crazed, “My son died here! In an abandoned warehouse in Houston port!”

A series of thundering explosions followed, leaving Shelley numb, unable to express shock.

Richard had only one son, John!

“Impossible, impossible!” Shelley, somehow finding the strength, lunged towards Richard.

But her hands and feet were bound, making it very inconvenient for her to move. She was soon pushed back down.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

With red eyes, she knelt on the ground, twisting her body, her throat hoarse from screaming, “You’re lying, you’re lying!”

“John is safe in England. He’s fine in England. Why would you curse him? Why?”

“If this were true, how wonderful it would be,” Richard weakly smiled at Shelley. In that moment of the smile, Richard seemed to age instantly, his hair turning white, leaving him nothing but a pile of bones.

Shelley fell silent. All the crying seemed to have been abruptly cut off as if by an invisible hand. The entire warehouse fell into silence, with only the faint, flickering light above.

After some time, a suppressed sob broke the silence, like a switch being turned on, the sobbing turning into wailing, from contained to unleashed.

Richard looked on, coldly, at Shelley, who sobbed breathlessly. This child, whom he had cherished so much, whom even the slightest cough would cause him intense pain, who would have thought that one day, she would be bound and thrown in such a sorry state before him, and he could coldly stand by and watch.

“Don’t blame Uncle, Shelley,” Richard’s indifferent voice echoed in the empty abandoned warehouse, “Blame Alajos for protecting Vivian too well. I launched two attacks but couldn’t capture her, so I had to target you.”

Familiar engine sounds echoed from outside the warehouse. Richard knew who was coming.

He sighed gently, looking up at the high ceiling of the warehouse, “It will be over soon.”

Signia pushed the wheelchair, slowly turning Richard to face the warehouse door.

Despite the dark night, his vision was clear enough to see the silver car speeding towards them along the winding path.

It was Charles’ car.

“Shelley,” Richard turned to look at Shelley, using a tone she was familiar with, “Let’s guess, is Charles alone?”

What would happen if she guessed right? What if she guessed wrong? Shelley dared not think.

But Richard would not pay attention to her refusal, a single glance made his men drag Shelley out.

Signia pushed Richard’s wheelchair, slowly moving towards the warehouse door.

“After today, you will be free,” Richard placed his hand on the woman’s back. She reached out, looking at Richard, who kissed her hand.

Richard’s voice was gentle, “Are you happy, my dear?”

Signia’s eyes were deep and dark, sinking with emotion.

Richard didn’t mind her silence. Perhaps for Signia, after today, it would be a fresh start, but for him, today was the end.

Charles’ car approached, accelerating and not slowing down even when less than 3 miles from the warehouse. The engine roared like a wild beast, the silver sports car charging forward like a cheetah.

The barriers set up couldn’t halt the roaring steel beast. Richard, unperturbed, regretted, “It seems he isn’t alone.”

As Richard finished speaking, gunshots suddenly rang out, “Ah!” Shelley let out a pained scream. There was a gruesome wound on her leg, blood gushing out. If the man wasn’t pulling Shelley’s hair, she would have fallen to the ground.

This was the price Charles should pay for not cooperating.

A gun battle erupted as the car charged into the warehouse. Shelley was dragged back into the warehouse, Charles’ men engaging in intense gunfire with Richard’s men.

Yes, Charles did not appear in the warehouse; he was currently in the secure point at the port, a temporary command center set up by Alajos.

Simpson, acting as the commander, hurriedly abandoned his post and rushed over, “Charles? You didn’t go tothe abandoned warehouse?”

“Following the kidnapper’s orders is a foolish act, I thought you knew that, Simpson,” Charles said coldly.

Simpson’s face darkened instantly. “Your daughter was kidnapped, the kidnappers demanded to see you, and you hid in a secure location?”

“Richard has gone mad, there’s no negotiating with a madman. If I show up, he’ll kill me and Shelley. Only if I don’t appear is Shelley safe,” Charles said, with a cold and rational tone.

Simpson couldn’t believe what he was hearing from this elder he had always admired. He didn’t have time to dwell on it; he just grabbed his gun and rushed out of the temporary command center.

Charles stood on the square in front of the temporary command center, the briny sea breeze billowing his shirt. He squinted, gazing in the direction of the abandoned warehouse. People hurriedly passed through the square, none knowing what he was thinking.

In less than five minutes after Simpson rushed out, a thunderous explosion came from the direction of the abandoned warehouse, with billowing black smoke rising from the partially blown-off roof of the warehouse, spreading far, far away.