His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 296

"Mr. Caldwell, Mrs. Caldwell," Archer interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes were infinitely dark. Even sitting in silence, his entire being exuded the crushing authority of an apex predator.

"I have said before that I won't shirk my obligations," he stated flatly, his voice void of emotion. "But my relationship with Chloe ends exactly there. I suggest you remember your place."

He was reminding them that just because Chloe called them "Mom and Dad" in front of him, they shouldn't forget who was really in charge.

George and Madeline's faces paled slightly.

Sitting across from them, Chloe kept her head down, biting her lower lip hard as tears welled in her eyes.

Archer stood up and grabbed his jacket. "I have business to attend to. I'll be leaving first. My apologies for the poor hospitality. Please, make yourselves at home."

With a single sentence, he sharply underscored their status as mere guests.

...

The Maybach glided smoothly through the night.

Archer leaned back in the rear seat, his tie loosened, collar slightly open.

His phone screen lit up with a call from Logan Lambert.

He answered, the background noise on the other end a chaotic mix of heavy metal music and clinking glasses.

"Archer, come out for a drink? Zane Sinclair managed to get his hands on two vintage bottles of Romanée-Conti. Usual spot."

"...I'll pass." Archer's refusal was instantaneous.

"Oh, what's this?" Logan teased. "Are you a family man now, rushing straight home after work?"

Archer lowered his gaze, not denying it. "Hanging up."

Ending the call, the cabin returned to silence. He turned his head to watch the streetscapes blur past, his mind entirely consumed by Virginia.

The Maybach pulled into the driveway at South Hill.

Archer pushed the door open, but Virginia was nowhere to be seen in the living room.

Archer stared at the rich broth in front of him, his Adam's apple bobbing.

In the five and a half years since their divorce, he hadn't tasted a single bowl of soup made by her hands...

He picked up the bowl and took a sip, the familiar flavor flooding his senses.

He looked up at her, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing in his eyes.

Virginia avoided his gaze and turned to tidy the counter.

Archer set the bowl down, stepped up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Virginia." He rested his chin on her shoulder, his hot breath brushing against the side of her neck.

"Stop it, Cindy is still awake." She gave a half-hearted struggle, glancing toward the nursery, but she couldn't break free.

"Just let me hold you for a minute," he murmured hoarsely, a note of exhaustion lacing his voice.