His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 380

Virginia slammed her hands against his chest, thrashing wildly. "Archer... get off..."

But the harder she fought, the tighter he caged her in.

The belt of her pajamas slipped open during the struggle, exposing a wide expanse of smooth skin.

Archer's breathing turned ragged as his heavy hand slid up the curve of her waist.

He missed her scent. He missed the feeling of falling asleep with her wrapped in his arms every single night.

"Virginia..." he grunted into her skin, his mouth trailing down from the corner of her lips, blazing a trail across her neck and over her elegant collarbone.

Virginia's defenses were rapidly dissolving.

No matter how logical she tried to remain, her body betrayed her, instinctively remembering his touch.

The night deepened, the heat in the room rising to a boiling point.

...

Inside the Caldwell Estate's living room.

Madeline pointed a trembling finger at Chloe. "You beat Toby again? You stabbed him with needles?! Chloe, where did I go wrong raising you?!"

Chloe, wearing a flimsy white silk nightgown, slumped on the thick wool rug, tears streaming down her face.

"Mom, I was having an episode. I couldn't control myself..."

She looked up, reaching desperately for the hem of Madeline's skirt.

But Madeline took a sharp step back, dodging her grasp entirely.

"An episode? Your entire medical history has been exposed as a fraud, and you're still trying to use it as an excuse?" Madeline stared at her pampered adopted daughter, a chilling wave of disgust washing over her.

If she hadn't popped her head into the bathroom while Toby was taking a bath today, she never would have seen the boy completely covered in bruises. The sight had nearly given her a heart attack.

Liam Kendrick sat in the armchair nearby, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses, remaining unusually silent.

Virginia sat in a plush booth by the window.

She wore a minimalist white silk blouse with three-quarter sleeves, her hair pinned up elegantly.

Valentin Hunter sat across from her and pushed a thick medical file across the table.

"My cousin has been in a terrible state lately, refusing to speak to anyone," he said, clasping his hands on the table, exhaustion bleeding into his voice. "I was hoping you could take a look at her."

Virginia flipped open the file, scanning the psych evaluations—severe depression accompanied by mild persecution paranoia.

Closing the folder, she replied evenly, "I can take the case, but she needs to come into my clinic for a baseline assessment first."

Psychiatric evaluations often showed discrepancies between sessions, and those very anomalies were usually the breakthrough points.

"Deal. I'll make the arrangements." Valentin smiled in pure relief and took a sip of his iced Americano.

Across the street, the black Maybach idled quietly in the shadows of the trees.