His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 192

Archer was someone he absolutely could not afford to offend.

The color drained from his face, turning pale, then green.

After downing the last glass, his stomach churned violently until he finally couldn't hold it back anymore, clamping a hand over his mouth and sprinting toward the bathroom.

Chloe sat in her seat with her eyes lowered, her complexion shifting rapidly, her fingers tightly strangling her wine glass.

She had watched Archer chase after her, watched him return looking utterly lost, and watched him emotionlessly—yet ruthlessly—force Liam to drink...

Her grip on the glass tightened as a suffocating wave of fury washed over her.

...

Kian Shaw stared at his phone screen for a moment before getting up and heading toward Virginia's treatment room.

"Ginny, he's bypassing me now."

Virginia was typing at her computer. She looked up at his words. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Vanderbilt. He got the cold shoulder from me, so he reached out to our mentor directly." Kian offered a helpless smile.

Her typing fingers paused for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly.

Watching her expression, he leaned against the doorframe and smiled. "Our mentor told him: When the time is right, you will meet."

Virginia's lips twitched slightly, a hint of a smile appearing on her face. "He's quite good at dodging."

"The problem is," Kian lowered his voice, "he offered to donate tens of millions of dollars to the foundation under the Vanderbilt Group's name. That's not a small sum..."

Virginia closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair.

"I still won't see him."

Though her tone was flat, it left absolutely no room for negotiation.

Kian didn't press further and turned to leave.

...

It was past ten at night.

Virginia had just put Cindy to bed and finished washing up, getting ready to rest, when an erratic knocking sounded at her door.

She frowned, getting up to look through the peephole. When she saw that it was Archer, her eyes darkened, and she turned back around.

So he was drunk...

Virginia stood stiffly, pressing her hands against his chest.

"Archer, let go."

He didn't move; his arms just tightened a fraction more.

"...Just let me stay for a bit," he muttered.

Virginia took a deep breath and shoved him hard, but his six-foot-two frame was like a solid wall, refusing to budge.

"Mommy?"

A groggy, sweet voice came from the bedroom door.

Cindy held a pink stuffed bunny in one hand while rubbing her eyes with the other, groggily taking in the scene at the entryway.

Archer's movements paused, and he slowly released his hold.

Cindy tilted her head. "Mr. Archer? Why are you always running to our house? Doesn't he have his own home?"