His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 303

Archer suddenly cupped the back of her head, pulling her against him as he dipped his head and kissed her fiercely.

The kiss was laced with a sense of punishment and intense possessiveness.

He hated how calm she was, hated her unwavering logic!

Virginia's eyes went wide. She pressed her hands against his solid chest, trying to push him away, but he didn't budge.

With the vast difference in their physical strength, her struggles only felt like a seductive tease.

The fire in Archer's eyes quickly morphed into raw desire. He effortlessly pinned her against him, refusing to give her an inch to retreat.

His kiss deepened, fueled by pent-up madness and frustration.

After a long while, when Virginia was breathless, he finally pulled back a fraction.

He rested his forehead against hers, his chest heaving as he took ragged breaths.

"Virginia!" he gritted out, his voice incredibly hoarse. "Don't you ever doubt me again. I have absolutely no interest in other women."

Virginia's eyes were slightly red, her lips swollen and damp from his kiss.

She looked at the man so close to her. That usually untouchable, arrogant face was now filled with raw frustration and undeniable affection.

Her heart gave a sudden lurch. The rigid wall she had built up over the years finally showed a sign of crumbling.

She turned her face away. "I know."

...

At two o'clock the next afternoon, inside the glass conservatory on the top floor of a private club.

Outside, the heat was suffocating, but the conservatory was perfectly climate-controlled, the air filled with the faint scent of sandalwood.

Virginia was wearing a subtle ivory silk dress, the hem delicately embroidered with understated orchids. Her long hair was pinned up elegantly, radiating a cool, sophisticated grace.

The moment she sat down, the glass door was pushed open.

It was a thinly veiled insult. She was practically pointing a finger at Virginia, calling her a useless trophy wife who survived off a man's wealth.

Mrs. Thorne and the others looked on like they were watching a show, none of them daring to chime in.

After all, Helena Vanderbilt had recently shown her support for Virginia. They didn't want to pick the wrong side.

Virginia calmly smoothed out her napkin, her movements casual and relaxed. Her tone was incredibly flat. "If you don't understand them, ask a professional. Complaining about it in class won't magically make the financial reports make sense to you."

Mandy's smile froze, and she dug her fresh manicure into her palms.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to swallow her anger.

...

The moment Mandy entered the room, she had noticed the white Steinway grand piano sitting in the corner of the conservatory.

During the break, she shot a pointed look at Virginia, then stood up, walked over to the piano, and opened the lid.