Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 237

A faint furrow creased Selene’s brow, worry flickering across her face before she could smooth it away.

For the past five years, she’d tried everything to straighten out Dames’s temper. But the entire Vaughn family had spent just as long telling him he could do no wrong. After all, he was the eldest grandson—the future heir to Vaughn Enterprises. Whatever Dames did was, by default, the right thing.

Once he’d made up his mind about his own mother, it was as if a mountain had been dropped between them, impossible to climb or move.

Selene crossed the room to the cabinet, picked up her helmet, and turned to Carmel. “Can you turn on your phone’s flashlight for me?”

Carmel obliged, switching on the beam and stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

“Hold it up and shine it into the helmet,” Selene directed.

As the light cut into the darkness inside, a few minuscule insects—barely bigger than grains of sand—darted out, stunned by the sudden brightness.

With the light catching their movement, Carmel finally saw them clearly. Her eyes widened. “How on earth did bugs get into your helmet?”

It made no sense. The climate in the city was dry and cold—hardly the kind of place for insects to thrive. Besides, this was a brand new backup helmet, fresh out of the box just half an hour ago, placed right here on the counter. How could anything have gotten inside?

Selene’s eyes narrowed. “The only person who touched the helmet was that lighting technician.”

Carmel’s voice rose in alarm. “You think he tampered with it?”

A thought struck her, and she blurted out, “It must’ve been Felicity! She told him to do it, didn’t she?”

She said it as fact, not a question.

Selene’s expression remained calm as she took out her phone and dialed Adrian.

“Mr. Shaw, I need you to look into something right away. Please check whether any of the competitors’ helmets have been tampered with.”

She added quietly, “Let’s keep this discreet for now.”

In the world of international racing, Adrian was the man with the highest authority. Even though the Luna Racing Club had disbanded, he still called the shots behind the scenes.

A deep, rich baritone answered her. “Understood. I’ll have someone look into it immediately.”

He didn’t ask Selene why—he trusted her instincts completely.

“Thank you, Mr. Shaw.” Selene was about to hang up when Adrian’s voice came through again.

Carmel’s breath hitched.

Selene smiled gently. “Carrie, trust me.”

Carmel’s eyes filled with tears. “You just love keeping me on edge, don’t you?”

Adrian’s voice sounded from the phone, low and wry. “I worry about Selene too, but I never say it out loud. I can’t let her carry any more burdens before the race.”

Carmel was momentarily speechless. Was it her imagination, or was Mr. Shaw competing with her for Selene’s affection?

Wait a minute—what right did Adrian have to challenge her for Selene’s attention?

Adrian’s voice rang out again. “Selene, do what you need to do. As long as I’m here, you have nothing to worry about.”

Selene took her helmet from the safe, slung it by her side, and strode out of the lounge.

She made her way toward the racetrack.

At the entrance, Harrison stood leaning against the wall. He’d clearly been waiting there for her, patience written in the set of his shoulders.