His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 430

He had arrogantly walked away, genuinely believing it was for her own good. The result? He had given her severe trauma and forced her into an avoidant attachment.

He had been the architect of his own destruction.

Perhaps fueled by the alcohol, the crushing weight of regret intensified, sending a blinding spike of pain through his temple.

Just then, Logan's phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, stood up, and patted Archer's shoulder.

"The old man is checking up on me, I've got to run. Take it easy on the drinks. Tell Zachary to pick you up later."

Logan left, leaving Archer completely alone in the massive booth.

He sat in the dim lighting, suffocated by an icy, untouchable aura.

Outside in the corridor.

Evelyn Snow was at The Summit Club tonight with a few friends. She had just stepped out of the restroom when she spotted the familiar, broad-shouldered silhouette through the half-open door of the VIP booth.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Getting thrown out of his office a few days ago hadn't deterred her. In fact, she convinced herself it was either because she hadn't perfectly replicated the style, or because Archer had to maintain professional boundaries at work.

For the past few days, she had packed away all her bright, designer clothes. Whether in the office or out, she stuck strictly to plain white dresses, simple wooden hairpins, and barely-there makeup.

She firmly believed that eventually, Archer would see her charm and choose her.

And tonight, fate had finally handed her an opportunity...

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn pushed the door open and slipped inside.

"Mr. Vanderbilt?" she called out softly, lacing her voice with just the right amount of tender concern.

Hearing the voice, Archer slowly opened his eyes.

The alcohol and dim lighting blurred his vision, and his raging migraine made it impossible to focus.

A sickeningly sweet scent of rose perfume drifted into the air—completely foreign to the elegant white tea fragrance burned into his memory.

Archer's brows violently snapped together. In the next split second, he savagely hurled Evelyn's hand away, the brutal force sending her crashing onto the floor.

"Get the hell out!"

His voice was a gravelly roar, dripping with raw, unrestrained disgust.

He stood up, his tall frame swaying for a fraction of a second before locking into a terrifying stillness.

Snatching his jacket from the back of the sofa, he didn't spare the woman on the floor a single glance as he marched straight out the door.

Sprawled on the carpet, Evelyn cradled her stinging wrist, the corners of her eyes flushing red with humiliation.

She bit her lip, glaring at the man's retreating back, her manicured nails digging viciously into her palms.

Why? She had dressed exactly the way he liked. She had thrown away her pride and offered herself on a silver platter. How could he possibly react like that?!