His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 492

The bitter winter wind rattled the glass windows, but the heating inside the private room was comfortably warm.

Julian Vanderbilt wore a white suit with subtle dark patterns. He sat on an Italian leather sofa with his legs crossed, swirling a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

He had the natural good looks of wealthy aristocracy, but right now, a heavy sense of despondency hung over his features.

The door to the private room was pushed open, and Dominic walked in, bringing a blast of cold air with him.

He handed his navy-blue cashmere coat to the waiter, revealing a meticulously tailored black three-piece suit. With his gold-rimmed glasses resting on his high nose bridge, he exuded the cold, reserved aura of a man long accustomed to being in power.

"You're in high spirits, Dominic," Julian scoffed coldly, slamming his glass down onto the glass coffee table. "I heard you made quite the splash last night with 'Mrs. Harrington.' What, haven't gotten tired of playing your little substitute game yet?"

Dominic ignored his sarcasm and took a seat opposite him.

He picked up a freshly poured drink. Behind his lenses, his eyes locked onto Julian's face, refusing to miss even the slightest shift in expression.

He was trying to find proof on his face that Gemma was still alive.

Annoyed by the scrutiny, Julian loosened his tie. "What are you looking at?"

"Seeing if you're hiding something from me," Dominic replied evenly, his tone devoid of emotion.

Julian's expression changed. He stood up abruptly, his eyes turning red as he glared at him. "Don't you forget, Dominic—Gemma is dead! And you're the one who drove her to her grave!"

Dominic's grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles turned white.

Truthfully, he had never believed Gemma was dead.

How could that vibrant, fiery woman, so fiercely full of life, just die so easily?

But when the accident happened, Julian had searched the coastline for three days and three nights until he was nothing more than a walking skeleton. He had even ended up in the ICU before the funeral was over.

Dominic had even investigated all of Julian's travel records over the past few years, along with all of the Harringtons' communication logs, but no one had made any secret contact with the outside world...

Julian's despair was too raw to be fake, which finally made Dominic give up hope.

"Get the car. We're going to the arts center."

...

The Victoria Arts Center.

The heating inside the venue was cranked up, and the melodious sound of a violin echoed through the exhibition hall. Guests handed their coats to the attendants as they entered.

"Gemma" wore a vintage-red velvet backless gown paired with a pure white fur stole. Her long hair was styled in soft French waves, and her lips were painted a bold crimson.

She stood in front of an abstract painting, a glass of champagne in hand, radiating the effortless elegance of a Chicago socialite with every move.

A waiter approached with a tray holding delicate caviar and seafood tartare.

"Gemma" subconsciously furrowed her brow and raised a hand to cover her nose.