Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132

The man stood tall and striking, as dignified and graceful as an old oak. All around him, bouquets and applause poured toward Selene, but in Adrian’s eyes, there was nothing but a bright, unguarded joy.

A cluster of professors made their way to Selene, each eager to congratulate her. Snapping out of her daze, Selene hurried to greet these giants of academia, exchanging pleasantries as she threaded through the crowd, making her way toward Adrian.

Theodore was there too.

Selene paused in front of him, took a steadying breath, and said, “Professor, I’m back!”

Theodore folded his hands behind his back, holding himself ramrod straight, as if to keep his face from betraying any emotion.

“Hmph. I don’t need you to come back,” he huffed, lips pursed in a stubborn scowl. Selene understood–he was still bitter about her research being stolen by Quentin.

“Professor-” she began, wanting to explain, but Theodore cut her off.

“Just keep moving forward, Selene. Show me whether you can still shine.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through her. He might be angry, but he was still rooting for her.

Before she could respond, more professors gathered around.

“Miss Thompson, this is a letter of recommendation for the 17th Annual Tech Innovation Summit. On behalf of Capital University, I’d like to formally invite you to

-attend.”

Selene’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d been hoping to sell her patent at a good price, and the Innovation Summit was the perfect opportunity.

Another professor called out, “Dr. Clark, you’re quick! Let me have a word with her.” He produced a second letter. “Miss Thompson, on behalf of Aldonia Institute of Technology, I’d like to invite you to the Summit as well. Please, use our university’s recommendation to attend.”

The Capital University professor put a firm hand on his colleague’s arm. “Hey now, I gave her my letter first! If Miss Thompson is going, she should go with Capital’s endorsement.”

As the two professors started to argue, more academics joined in, each offering their own invitation. Soon, a dozen envelopes were stacked in front of her, and Selene was at a loss for which to choose.

Just then, a sculpted hand appeared in her line of sight, intercepting the flurry of letters. Selene looked up to find Adrian at her side.

His voice rang out, clear and resonant as a bell, and the whole room fell silent to

listen.

“Selene has already received an official invitation to the Summit,” he announced, holding out an envelope adorned with golden letters spelling “Tech Innovation Summit.”

Selene took the invitation, pried it open, and gaped–this was a direct pass from the Summit organizers themselves, the kind usually reserved for CEOs like Harrison.

“This ticket was meant for you, wasn’t it?” she asked quietly.

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