His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 55

In the study of Archer's villa.

Archer habitually opened the host connection, and Virginia's audio waveform instantly popped onto his screen.

"Nine, tell me... are all men exactly the same?"

His hand, holding a glass of milk, paused mid-air.

He didn't let the AI take over. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he didn't type anything.

Virginia hugged a throw pillow tightly, burying her face into it. Her voice was muffled.

"You know my ex-husband, right? Let me tell you... he's a cold-hearted bastard."

On his side of the screen, Archer's eyes darkened. He set his glass down.

"Back when we were together, he was always so icy, acting so high and mighty. I thought that was just who he was. But after we divorced... whenever he's with his new partner, he's so attentive. So accommodating..."

She rolled over, exposing her face. Squinting at Nine's glowing light, her eyes were rimmed with red.

"He really loves Chloe. It makes all my feelings back then look like a massive joke."

She let out a drunken hiccup and continued to mumble. "He pisses me off! He finally married the woman he wanted, so why does he keep showing up in front of me?"

"But... that chicken soup he ordered from Lyle's Kitchen... it was really good... hehe..."

Her voice trailed off, leaving the room in silence.

Virginia was out cold, her head tilted against the pillow.

Model 919 waited for a few dozen seconds before softly announcing, "Conversation mode deactivated. Goodnight, Master."

In his study, Archer pulled his hands back and slumped into his chair. Staring at the text transcription on his screen, an suffocating wave of despair crashed over him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, an indescribable frustration eating at him.

Just then, his phone lit up. It was a message from Zachary.

[Mr. Vanderbilt, you have an appointment with Doctor White for Ms. Caldwell's treatment tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Should I adjust your schedule?]

Archer stared at the message, his finger hovering over the screen for a long time.

Finally, he typed a single line.

[No need.]

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