His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 502

Gemma swiped to the next slide and tapped the video.

The background was a spacious, brightly lit dance studio.

The little girl wore her hair in two adorable space buns. She had chubby cheeks and was dressed in a pink ballet tutu.

She twirled clumsily before rushing up to the camera, her sweet, childish voice ringing out clearly: "Daddy, when are you bringing Mommy back? Cindy learned how to dance the Little Swan, and I want to show her..."

At the end of the video, the camera shifted slightly, and a man's deep, husky voice replied—"Soon."

Gemma stared at the screen, replaying that fifteen-second clip over and over again.

A suffocating weight settled in her chest, a heavy lump forming in her throat.

She had absolutely zero memory of ever giving birth.

Over the past year, Dominic had constantly drilled a narrative into her head: they had been expecting a baby, but because of a mistake he made, her emotions had spiraled, resulting in a miscarriage.

Because of this, the word "child" was absolutely forbidden in the Harrington household. Forget the staff, even her supposed parents didn't dare bring it up.

But now, looking at the vibrant, precious little girl in the video, she felt no repulsion. Instead, a strange, profound sense of novelty washed over her.

A strange, blood-deep bond shattered the barricades of her amnesia, taking root in her confused heart.

Was this... her daughter?

Gemma reached out, gently tracing the little girl's chubby cheek through the glass screen.

Just then, a blurry memory flashed across her mind.

It was a beautifully sunlit afternoon. She was lounging on the sofa reading an English medical journal, while a man smiled broadly as he helped a little girl build blocks on the plush rug...

The flashback vanished in a flash, and a split second later, a piercing pain lanced through her skull.

Today, Dominic had been trapped in the Harrington headquarters' boardroom since eight in the morning, forced to eat a rushed lunch right at his desk.

Around two o'clock in the afternoon.

A discreet black SUV pulled up to the back entrance of an ultra-private children's playground in the hills of Chicago.

Gemma wore an off-white cashmere turtleneck paired with a loose camel coat. Her long hair wasn't styled in its usual glamorous waves, but casually clipped back, and her face bore only the lightest touch of makeup.

She stood beneath the awning, watching the car door slide open.

Archer stepped out of the vehicle.

He wasn't wearing his usual intimidating bespoke suits today. Instead, he had on a dark gray turtleneck sweater under a long black puffer coat, paired with casual wool trousers.

He turned around and reached his hand into the cabin.