His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 280

Before the thought could fully form, the bathroom door clicked open.

Archer stepped out, completely bare-chested, wearing nothing but a white towel slung dangerously low on his hips.

He was aggressively rubbing his wet hair with a smaller towel. His dark eyes locked onto the glowing screen of her phone. "What are you looking at?"

Virginia panicked, wildly mashing the lock button. When she looked up, a stray bead of water was sliding down the sharp ridges of his abs, disappearing beneath the edge of the towel. It was devastatingly sexy.

Her face felt like it was on fire. Without a second thought, she rolled over, yanked the blanket over her head, and curled into a tight ball. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

She thought she had successfully hidden herself, but all Archer saw was the blanket perfectly contouring over the stunning curves of her body.

His throat bobbed again, a wry, helpless smile touching his eyes.

Forcing down the relentless ache in his chest, he walked around to the other side of the bed, slid under the covers, pulled her—blanket and all—into his arms, and finally closed his eyes.

...

The next afternoon, in the glass conservatory of the private club.

Virginia wore an exquisite, modern-cut dove-gray dress, her hair twisted up with a simple jade pin. She looked exactly like an elegant aristocrat stepped straight out of a vintage painting.

She sat quietly at her table, meticulously leveling out her incense powder with a silver spoon.

The wealthy housewives nearby were deep in aggressive gossip.

Mrs. Thorne, decked out in the latest Dior couture, was whispering a complaint. "My mother-in-law was on my case again yesterday, telling me my new bag was too flashy. Meanwhile, her own closet is practically a Hermes vault, but she has the nerve to lecture me!"

Another woman in Chanel scoffed in agreement. "Are any mothers-in-law actually easy to deal with? They all act sweet to our faces but guard the family money like we're common thieves."

Mrs. Thorne turned her attention to Virginia. "Ms. Caldwell, you're still so young. I'm guessing you're not married yet?"

Every single woman in the room stopped dead, staring in absolute shock.

Wasn't that the matriarch of the Vanderbilt family? The very woman their own mothers and mothers-in-law desperately tried, and failed, to suck up to at elite galas?

Helena gave the stunned women a polite, aristocratic nod before walking straight up to Virginia. She grabbed her hands affectionately and announced to the entire room, "Our Ginny has been taking classes here. If she's ever stepped out of line, I hope you've all been taking good care of her for me."

The words hit the room like a nuclear bomb. The aristocratic housewives stood frozen in sheer terror and awe, taking a solid minute to reboot.

"M-Mrs. Vanderbilt, you're too kind! Ms. Caldwell is an absolute angel. She's so quiet and elegant in class. We absolutely adore her."

Mrs. Thorne, who had been aggressively rolling her eyes just an hour ago, was the first to snap back to reality, plastering on the most sycophantic, terrified smile imaginable.

The rest of the women quickly scrambled to agree, their eyes practically bulging with envy and shock.

Anyone with half a brain could read between the lines. This wasn't a polite request to look out for someone. The matriarch of the Vanderbilt empire had just personally claimed Virginia Caldwell, establishing her untouchable status in front of the entire elite circle.