His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 485

Toby's cries grew hoarse and faint, eventually reducing to muffled whimpers, as if someone had clamped a hand over his mouth.

Archer's fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. It took every ounce of his willpower not to explode. "Liam, Toby is your biological son. You can't..."

"I don't need you to teach me how to discipline my own kid!" Liam panted heavily, his tone turning chillingly sinister. "Archer, Virginia loves you, right? Isn't she the famous psychologist, Ginny?"

"I just got my hands on some of the strongest Neuro-Inhibitors from the international black market. Tell me, if I inject all of this into her brain, do you think all those memories and all her precious professional knowledge will be completely wiped clean?"

Archer stopped breathing, his pupils dilating in pure terror.

"If she forgets everything, if she becomes an empty shell who doesn't even know her own name, will she still love you?"

"Liam!" The last thread of Archer's rationality snapped.

He roared, "If you touch a single hair on her head, I swear you won't even have the chance to beg for death!"

"Then come find me." Liam's laughter grew even more unhinged. "I will never tell you where she is. Keep looking, Archer. You destroyed my happiness, so you'll never see her again for the rest of your life!"

"Beep!"

The call was abruptly terminated.

Sitting in the backseat, Archer hurled the phone straight into Zachary's chest. "Have the tech department track that signal! Send that recording to the police task force immediately!"

Zachary caught the phone, his palms slick with cold sweat, and rapidly dialed a series of numbers.

After a long moment, he looked back, his expression tense. "Mr. Vanderbilt, tech says the signal bounced off three different offshore satellites... It's nearly impossible to lock onto an exact location this fast."

"Find it anyway!"

Archer ripped open the top two buttons of his shirt. The refined, restrained facade he always carried completely shattered in that instant.

"Contact Kian Shaw. He has connections in overseas medical and psychological networks. Have him use every resource he has to track the flow of those Neuro-Inhibitors on the black market!"

His aristocratic, aloof face was haggard, with heavy dark circles under his eyes and a layer of dark stubble covering his jaw.

Three laptops and four iPads were arrayed in front of him, screens flashing with endless surveillance footage and data streams.

He hadn't slept a wink in three days and two nights.

On the coffee table in the reception area sat the untouched meal Zachary had brought him that morning.

The office door opened, and Kian Shaw walked in wearing a white button-down.

He looked equally exhausted, clutching a thick report in his hand.

Archer looked up, and Kian's pupils contracted.

The man sitting before him—who usually obsessed over his appearance to the point where even a slightly crooked tie was unacceptable—was not only visibly ravaged by exhaustion but had actual streaks of gray running through his thick hair...