His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 517

"Gemma" sat in the dimly lit theater, her gaze entirely fixated on the radiant, larger-than-life woman on the screen.

She had finally laid eyes on the real Gemma Harrington.

Their features were somewhat similar, but their underlying bone structures were entirely different.

The woman on screen possessed a fiercely aggressive beauty. The kind of unapologetic arrogance built on a lifetime of immense wealth and power radiated from her very bones.

Whereas she...

Even dressed in the most luxurious red gown, sporting the exact same hairstyle, and wearing the identical perfume, her innate coolness and emotional detachment made it blatantly obvious she was not the real Gemma.

A fake could never be the real thing.

Dominic leaned back against the sofa, picking up his whiskey on the rocks with his free hand.

He watched the footage with a sickeningly obsessive gaze.

"Gemma, do you remember? This was from our vacation in the States three years ago." His voice was raspy, heavy with emotion.

He turned his head mid-sentence, his eyes locking onto "Gemma" beside him.

His bloodshot eyes burned with a terrifying, suffocatingly intense affection.

He leaned in closer, unknowingly bringing his glass right up to her face.

The sharp stench of cigar smoke mixed with hard liquor hit her straight on, making her cringe involuntarily.

"Have you forgiven me?" He stared intently at her face, his soft voice sounding almost like begging. "The past is behind us. We can live a good life together now, okay?"

"Gemma" sat totally still, looking at this incredibly powerful man who dominated Chicago now reduced to pleading for peace. All she felt was profound sadness.

Not for herself, but for the real heiress who had been pushed into the ocean.

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze with absolute clarity.

"You are Gemma."

He suddenly leaned in, bracing one arm against the back of her chair and trapping her entirely within his towering shadow.

His cold, imposing face hovered inches from hers, reeking of hard liquor and stale cigars.

"The one and only Gemma Harrington in this world." He enunciated each word viciously, delivering a warning that brooked absolutely no argument. "I don't like hearing things like that. Be a good girl and never say it again."

...

In the outskirts of Bangkok.

The stiflingly humid air carried a distinct, salty tang.

Archer had received a message from Soren stating that Gemma had been found. However, the woman refused to speak, forcing Archer to fly out personally and verify her identity.