His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 493

Up on the second-floor wraparound balcony, Archer took in this subtle reaction.

He was dressed in a tailored black suit with peak lapels, his dark gray shirt buttoned all the way to the top and fastened with a platinum collar pin. The prayer beads on his wrist caught the cool light.

According to Ginny's Dossier, the real Gemma loved seafood more than anything. But his Ginny? She had zero interest in it...

Archer stepped forward and descended the spiral staircase.

"Gemma" was just heading toward the restroom to touch up her makeup. As she walked down a secluded corridor, sudden footsteps approached from behind.

Before she could even turn around, a hand clamped down hard on her wrist.

The man's grip was powerful and unyielding as he dragged her straight toward a dark, unlit utility closet.

"Who are you? What are you doing?" "Gemma" cried out. Her champagne flute slipped from her grasp, landing on the carpet with a muted thud as the liquid soaked into the fibers.

Before she could scream a second time, Archer shoved her inside the closet and locked the door behind them.

The small space was unlit, illuminated only by a few faint streaks of moonlight and the streetlamps outside.

Archer braced one hand against the door, trapping her entirely between his arms.

He lowered his head, their breaths instantly mingling in the tight space.

It was the familiar body heat, the familiar touch... the only thing out of place was that sharp scent of rose perfume, replacing her usual crisp white tea fragrance.

"Mr. Vanderbilt, are you out of your mind?" "Gemma" struggled fiercely, her clear eyes blazing with anger, her wealthy heiress temper on full display. "I am Dominic's wife. If you don't let go right now, I'm calling security!"

Archer ignored every word she said. His dark eyes were filled with an obsessive frenzy.

He forcefully turned her right hand over and pushed the velvet sleeve up her arm.

"Do you really not remember me?" His voice was devastatingly hoarse. His thumb pressed desperately against the red mole, his grip so tight it felt as if he might snap her fragile wrist.

Terrified by his unhinged intensity, "Gemma" fought against the pain radiating from her wrist and thrashed wildly. "I don't know you! Let me go!"

"You don't know me?" Archer crowded in closer, his straight nose brushing against her cheek. His hot breath ghosted over the side of her neck as he gritted his teeth. "Virginia, look me in the eye and say you don't know me again!"

Engulfed by the aggressively dominant scent of Oud & Bergamot radiating off him, "Gemma" felt her heart skip a beat.

A sudden, sharp pain pierced through her head.

Fragmented, blurry images flashed through her mind—the smell of antiseptic, a freezing operating table, and two despairing silhouettes, one large and one small, standing against the light... They vanished as quickly as they appeared.

She paled, her body swaying involuntarily.

Sensing her distress, Archer instinctively reached up to cup her delicate face. "What is it?"