His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 520

Reclined on the chair, "Gemma's" breathing grew deep and steady. The thick black fog deep within her mind finally began to tear open.

She saw the bright halls of Mercer Psychiatric Hospital. She was carrying a massive stack of English medical journals, rushing to catch up with the students and professors laughing up ahead.

The scene instantly shifted to the sunlit kitchen in South Hill. A tall, broad-shouldered man was standing with his back to her, cooking something that filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma...

"Keep walking. Open that door," Kian instructed gently.

Beads of sweat completely broke out across "Gemma's" forehead. Her hands clenched a death grip around the armrests, her knuckles turning white.

She pushed the door wide open. But there was no light behind it—only a pair of terrifying, bloodshot eyes and the bone-chilling sensation of a massive dose of liquid being injected directly into her neck.

A split second later, disgusting, salty ocean water flooded her mouth and nose. The overwhelming terror of drowning drained every ounce of color from her face, and a violent shudder wracked her body as she gasped out loud.

"It hurts..."

"Gemma" frantically grabbed her head, shooting up from the recliner and gasping desperately for air.

The consultation room door was violently thrown open from the outside.

Archer crossed the room in two massive strides, instantly wrapping her in his arms. He shielded the back of her head with one hand and pressed his jaw firmly against the top of her hair.

"Stop!" Archer roared at Kian, his face practically freezing over.

"Gemma" was shaking violently against his chest.

She was deathly pale, the veins popping along her temples, in so much agonizing pain she couldn't even form a coherent word.

Kian frowned deeply, forced to abandon the hypnosis and pull her back to reality. With a grim expression, he stepped out and immediately summoned the medical team waiting in the hall.

She only uttered those two words.

The specialists threw a quick glance at Archer and Kian. Seeing their grim expressions but receiving no vocal objections, they instantly ripped open a sterile syringe and drew up the incredibly pale blue liquid from the tiny vial.

The expert swabbed her vein with a sterile alcohol pad, the needle tip slowly hovering right above her skin.

At that exact moment, a deafening crash echoed from the penthouse's solid wood front doors, like they were being battered down by a battering ram.

A split second later, a massive explosion of sound tore through the suite as the entire door was blown violently off its hinges. Over a dozen private enforcers clad in black tactical gear and wielding heavy riot weapons flooded into the living room.

Marching straight down the center was a man in a pitch-black trench coat layered over a dark patterned suit, a pair of rimless glasses resting on his face.

It was Dominic Harrington!