His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 227

The sound of running water and rhythmic chopping soon drifted out from the kitchen.

Virginia listened to the familiar domestic sounds, a swirl of conflicting emotions darkening her eyes.

Dinner was ready in no time. He had prepared Cynthia's exact request: Spaghetti Bolognese, steak, and a fresh salad.

It looked like a masterpiece straight out of a fine dining restaurant, and it tasted surprisingly incredible.

Cynthia devoured a plate of spaghetti and half a piece of steak before letting out an adorable, satisfied burp.

After the meal, Virginia cleared the dishes while Archer sat in the living room helping the little girl build block towers. The cozy apartment quickly filled with the warm, joyous sounds of their laughter.

By the time she finished washing up and walked out, Cynthia was leaning heavily against his chest, her little head nodding off. She was completely exhausted.

"I'll take her."

"Let me do it. Passing her over might wake her up."

Archer scooped Cynthia up into a protective, secure hold and effortlessly rose to his feet, carrying her gently toward the bedroom.

Virginia followed close behind, watching with a conflicted heart as he laid the little girl onto the mattress and carefully tucked the blanket around her.

After he left the room, she stayed by her daughter's side for another ten minutes, waiting until Cynthia was entirely asleep before quietly slipping out.

She fully intended to kick him out, but the moment she walked into the living room, she found Archer sprawled out on her sofa exactly like he had been days ago.

His eyes were shut tight, his handsome features completely relaxed, his chest rising and falling in a deep, rhythmic slumber.

"..."

Virginia stood frozen, furrowing her brows, completely torn on whether she should wake him up or not.

She suddenly remembered Zachary mentioning that Archer had been suffering from severe insomnia lately...

Whatever. Letting him sleep here one more time wouldn't kill her.

Averting her gaze, she grabbed a light blanket from the closet and carefully draped it over his broad shoulders.

...

This bizarre domestic routine continued for several days.

Every single afternoon, Archer would promptly pick Cynthia up from the kindergarten. Sometimes he'd swing by to pick Virginia up from the clinic, and on the nights she worked late, he'd take Cynthia straight home to cook dinner.

Virginia ignored the comment, calmly scooping a generous portion onto a plate and sliding it across the table.

"I just warmed it up. Eat."

...

It was almost half-past eight by the time they finished dinner, and Cynthia was already rubbing her sleepy eyes after brushing her teeth.

This time, without waiting for her mother's cue, she immediately reached her little arms up to Archer.

"Mr. Archer, do you know any good stories?"

"I do."

Minutes later, Virginia found herself leaning against the bedroom doorframe, listening to his deep, soothing baritone drift out from inside.

He was reading "A Little Princess." His voice was low but incredibly clear, dripping with a profound, tender affection.

Roughly ten minutes passed before Cynthia drifted off into a deep sleep.

Archer tiptoed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him with practiced ease.