His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 409

The large hand gripping the marble countertop clamped down brutally, veins bulging against his pale skin.

Archer stared at her retreating back, completely devoid of any hesitation or lingering affection. It felt as though an invisible, iron fist had reached into his chest and violently crushed his heart, stealing the very breath from his lungs.

Sensing the wildly volatile tension in the air, Mrs. Gable held her breath, not daring to make a sound as she scurried into the kitchen to start cooking.

Ten minutes later, she hurried out with a steaming bowl of hangover soup, only to find the living room completely empty.

She carried the tray upstairs and knocked gently on the master bedroom door. When there was no response, she sighed and shuffled over to the study, tapping lightly on the wood.

"Come in."

"Ma'am, the soup is ready, but Mr. Vanderbilt has already gone to his room, and he didn't answer when I knocked." Mrs. Gable lowered her voice, her face fraught with worry. "He looked like he drank quite a bit tonight. If he doesn't get this down, his head will be splitting tomorrow morning..."

Virginia sat behind her heavy desk, staring blankly at a medical journal she hadn't actually read a single word of.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, she finally spoke. "Give it to me. I'll take it to him."

Virginia balanced the tray and pushed open the master bedroom door. The overhead lights were off, leaving only the dim, amber glow of a single wall sconce to illuminate the space.

Archer hadn't even bothered to shower. He had collapsed onto the mattress fully clothed and was already fast asleep.

His once-immaculate dark blue shirt was now wrinkled and utterly ruined. The collar gaped open, exposing the long, elegant column of his neck and a large expanse of his pale, sculpted chest.

However, he was sleeping restlessly, his brows knitted tightly together, his breathing ragged and heavy.

She didn't make a sound. She quietly placed the tray on the nightstand, picked up the soft blanket from the edge of the bed, and gently draped it over his body.

...

A few days later, as dusk fell outside a hyper-exclusive private club.

Archer strode confidently down the opulent hallway.

Tonight, he wore a sharp, charcoal-gray peak-lapel suit over a pristine white dress shirt, the collar held impeccably in place by a sleek platinum pin.

Zachary, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black trousers, trailed closely behind him, clutching a stack of files as he delivered a low, serious report.

"The executive has already signed the paperwork. Also, Evelyn Snow from R&D is currently in the Cloud & Water private suite here, negotiating the chip manufacturing contract with Mr. Lockwood from Everest Technologies."

Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes red and teary, looking thoroughly intoxicated and completely helpless.

"Mr. Lockwood."

The low, terrifying rumble of a man's voice echoed from the doorway.

Lockwood froze entirely. He slowly turned his head, and the second he recognized Archer Vanderbilt, he instantly sobered up. His face turned a violent shade of crimson as he frantically let go of the woman and scrambled two steps back.

"M-Mr. Vanderbilt! What are you doing here?"

Archer stepped into the room. His freezing gaze swept over the messy table, the scattered contracts on the floor, and finally settled on Evelyn, who was shivering violently in the corner.

She was clutching her torn collar desperately, tears of panic streaming down her face, painting a picture of absolute, tragic vulnerability.

Zachary sucked in a sharp breath.

He had worked under Archer for years and knew exactly how deeply the man despised this kind of predatory filth. He couldn't help but silently pray for Lockwood: hopefully, his death wouldn't be too gruesome tonight.