Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 123

Chapter 123

The first time Harrison heard the gentle chime of the blessing bell dangling from his rearview mirror was on the day of Natalie’s funeral.

Now, the bell rang again. Was she, wherever she was, still worrying about her best friend?

“Promise me you’ll look after Felicity, okay, big brother?”

Harrison drew a long, steadying breath and dialed Secretary Burnett.

“Wipe every video and comment online that’s slandering Felicity, now.”

“Just to confirm, you want everything negative about Miss Felicity removed?” Burnett double–checked, his voice cautious.

Harrison’s patience was wearing thin. “Who else do you think I’d go to protect?”

out of my way

Burnett quickly suppressed his own assumptions. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it right away.”

The Thompson House:

Felicity tugged on an oversized hoodie and stood before the full–length mirror. The shapeless sweater hid any hint of her figure–not that there was much to show off up top.

She paired it with black shorts, the hem barely peeking out beneath the baggy hoodie, which only made her legs look longer and leaner.

She pressed a tissue to her lips, blotting out the last traces of bold color until they looked effortlessly natural. Her makeup was expertly subtle, so much so that her crew of guy friends would swear she was bare–faced.

She was about to head out–another night with the boys, another round of drinking

until dawn.

Her phone rang. She picked up.

“What? You’re bailing tonight? Seriously? Buzzkill!”

She barely had time to curse before another call came in.

Felicity answered, only for her expression to darken.

10:16

“You’re skipping out, too? Flaking on me, huh? You got a death wish or what?

“Flick, maybe you should lay low for a while,” the voice on the other end

stammered. “Even if the dirt about you online’s been wiped, everyone’s talking about you and Simon Waverly.”

She rolled her eyes. “What about Simon? He’s practically my favorite kid brother”

Felicity searched her own name online–nothing but silence. Not a single bad word. Those spoiled city trust–fund brats always freaked out over nothing.

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