His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 213

"M-Mr. Vanderbilt. Dr. Caldwell is currently in a session. If you need something, you can let me know," stammered Holly, hurrying after him with a panicked look on her face.

"Or perhaps you could come back another..."

"I'll wait for her."

"...But she's booked back-to-back with regular patients today. She won't finish until quite late. Maybe you should..."

Archer didn't bother responding, merely leveling her with an icy, silencing glare.

The sheer intensity of his stare instantly drained the color from Holly’s face, forcing the rest of her sentence back down her throat.

Having worked at the clinic for two years, she had encountered all sorts of clients, but she had never met someone who could make her knees buckle just by standing there in utter, imposing silence.

"T-Then please wait a moment. I'll go inform Dr. Caldwell..."

Frowning slightly, Archer didn't wait for her to finish before turning on his heel and heading toward the elevators.

A little past six that evening.

Virginia packed up her things and left work at her usual time.

She had just stepped onto the curb, looking down at the rideshare app on her phone, when a black Maybach glided silently to a halt right in front of her.

She froze as the rear window rolled down, revealing Archer's handsome, aristocratic profile.

He turned to look at her. There were dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes, and the top button of his dress shirt was undone, exposing a glimpse of the pale, strong line of his collarbone. He looked even more drained than he had a few days ago.

Virginia cast a fleeting glance his way before frowning, deliberately looking away to focus back on her phone screen.

The window remained open, and his slightly raspy voice drifted out.

"Virginia."

"We need to talk."

Gripping her phone tight, Virginia finally looked up, meeting his intense gaze through the car window for a long moment before reluctantly agreeing.

They ended up at the café on the ground floor.

The exact same spot where she had met with Julian.

Two cups of coffee sat untouched on the table between them.

"If you have something to say, Mr. Vanderbilt, just say it."

Archer frowned, a flash of complicated emotion darkening his eyes.

She had lost weight. Even with light makeup, the exhaustion in her eyes was painfully obvious to him.

As she brushed past him, he instinctively reached out. But just as his fingers were about to graze her wrist, he caught himself and let his hand drop.

Never breaking her stride, Virginia pushed open the glass door and stepped out into the night.

Archer remained frozen in his seat, staring blankly at the faint smear of lipstick on her discarded coffee cup.

He felt like a prisoner locked in that exact spot, with no hope of ever being freed.

...

Ten o'clock that night.

In the semi-open VIP lounge on the second floor of a private club.

Julian rushed over after receiving a call. Taking in the disastrous scene before him, his usual playful demeanor vanished instantly.

The table was littered with expensive liquor bottles, several of them completely empty.

Archer was slouched against the leather sofa. His custom-tailored suit jacket had been tossed carelessly onto the armrest, his tie was loosened, and his crisp dress shirt was terribly rumpled.

Stripped of his usual immaculate, untouchable aura, he looked dangerously close to falling apart.

"Good God..." Julian hurried over, immediately shoving the remaining bottles out of reach. "Boss, how much have you had to drink?"