His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 132

Virginia's pen paused. The scent of smoke and alcohol from the man who had leaned into her last night floated back into her mind. She pursed her lips, hesitating. "Helena, I've been quite busy with work lately. I might..." "You still have to eat, no matter how busy you are." Helena's tone was gentle but left no room for refusal. "If you don't come, I'll personally come pick you two up!" Virginia fell silent for a couple of seconds before finally nodding. "I understand. I'll bring Cindy over later." At the Vanderbilt estate. The moment Virginia walked through the door holding Cindy's hand, she spotted the man sitting at the dining table. Archer had changed into a black crew-neck t-shirt. His prominent wrist still sported that striking wooden bead bracelet. He had just returned from the company, arriving only slightly earlier than Virginia and her daughter. Right now, he carried a faint scent of oud and bergamot, a complete contrast to the drunken man from the night before. Virginia's steps faltered slightly, her grip on Cindy's hand subconsciously tightening. The man simply looked up at her, gave a brief nod without uttering a greeting, and lowered his head to continue drinking his soup. It was as if nothing had happened last night. Feeling a bit uneasy, Virginia handed the nutritional supplements she brought to Mrs. Higgins. Then, following Helena's gesture, she took a seat with Cindy. The table was filled with dishes—braised sea cucumber, slow-cooked Wagyu beef, sautéed asparagus with pecans, rich chicken and taro stew, truffle mashed potatoes, and mini cheese-baked pumpkins. They were all favorites of hers and Cindy's. Virginia looked over the spread again in disbelief, confirming one thing: there was nothing Archer preferred. He had a mild palate, favoring poached greens, steamed coral trout, and clear mushroom soup... but none of that was here. Yet, he didn't seem inclined to ask the chef for additions. On the contrary, he ate the sea cucumber with a calm expression. He even found time to place a piece of Wagyu into Cindy's plate. The Wagyu, cooked perfectly to retain its juices, was tender and paired beautifully with a black truffle sauce. Cindy politely thanked him before gripping her fork and digging in. Helena watched the scene with a bright, loving smile. If only Cindy were a Vanderbilt child... A thought struck her, and her eyes lit up. "Cindy sweetie, Grandma made dessert for you. Do you want to come to the kitchen with me to see?" "Yes!" Cindy swallowed her beef, her bright eyes nodding enthusiastically. She hopped off her chair, walking around to take Helena's hand and head toward the kitchen. Instantly, only the two people sitting side by side were left in the dining room. The air grew quiet, the clinking of silverware against porcelain echoing clearly. Virginia picked up a piece of asparagus, pretending not to notice the gaze fixed on her from across the table. Archer set his fork down, his dark, heavy gaze locking onto her. "About last night... thank you." Virginia's movements slowed by a fraction. She nodded. "You're welcome." "Yeah." The atmosphere turned awkward as silence descended once more. The distance between them was less than an arm's length. When Helena and Cindy were present, Virginia hadn't felt anything off, but now... She took a sip of juice, hoping to ignore the subtle tension. But then he suddenly asked, "Did I... do anything last night?" Virginia choked violently, almost dropping her glass. She set it down, forcing herself to meet his gaze calmly, though her voice trembled slightly. "No. You were dead drunk. You didn't do anything..." Archer studied her face, her eyes. After a moment, his gaze darkened, and he murmured as if to himself, "Is that so?"