His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 92

Helena threw him a glance, then another, clearly wanting to say something but holding her tongue.

Just after six o'clock, he suddenly stood up and stated matter-of-factly, "I'll take Cindy home."

Helena raised her eyebrows, her expression shifting to one of subtle amusement, but she didn't object.

"I need to head back to the office anyway," he added. "It'll save you the trip."

Without waiting for a response, he turned, scooped Cindy up into his arms, and headed for the door.

...

Downstairs at Virginia's apartment building.

After receiving Helena's call, Virginia had quickly wrapped up her work and rushed back as fast as she could.

She had just reached the entrance of her building, debating whether to wait upstairs or downstairs, when a sweet, familiar little voice rang out behind her.

"Mommy!"

Pushing the car door open, Cindy had spotted Virginia in her light khaki trench coat from a distance.

Too impatient to wait to be lifted down, the little girl scrambled out of the car with her short arms and legs, then sprinted over to throw herself at Virginia, hugging her legs tightly.

Virginia wrapped her arms around Cindy. Looking up over her daughter's tiny frame, her gaze collided with Archer as he slowly approached.

He held Cindy's drawing board in one hand. Under the glow of the streetlights, his slate-blue suit gave him a quiet, brooding aura.

Virginia's expression instantly cooled, and she took a half-step back.

Archer's motion to hand over the drawing board faltered, his hand freezing mid-air.

"Thank you." Virginia reached out to take the board. Her tone was painfully polite and distant, practically building an invisible wall between them.

She looked him dead in the eye, yet her clear gaze seemed to look right through him. "Please don't trouble yourself with Cindy in the future, Mr. Vanderbilt. You have your own child to look after."

Archer's jaw tightened dangerously.

She was drawing a line in the sand.

At only four years old, Cindy didn't understand the complexities of their history, but she was highly observant. She could easily sense the cold tension radiating between her mother and Mr. Archer.

She had just stepped into a stall when two voices drifted over from the sinks.

"...Did you see my feed? That post from six years ago got dug up again."

"I saw it! I can't believe Dr. Caldwell was the homewrecker who got between Mr. Vanderbilt and that prodigy pianist Chloe Caldwell six years ago. Someone even leaked old photos claiming she was just a gold digger."

"Ugh. I can't believe someone like that is allowed to practice therapy."

"Keep your voice down..."

"What are you so afraid of? She's busy counseling a patient. Besides, we're just talking. It's not like I'm saying it to her face..."

Before the woman could finish her sentence, Virginia pushed open the stall door and stepped out.

"Why stop now?" she asked, her voice chillingly calm, her expression unreadable.

The color drained from both of their faces before rushing back in a fiery flush. "Dr... Dr. Caldwell."

"Virginia, we... we were just..."