Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 259

He turned to Carmel with a teasing grin. “Looks like you’ve leveled up too, Number Four.”

Luke Holloway felt a dull throb pulsing at his temples. His expression was thunderous, as if he might explode at any moment.

Selene stood, ready to leave, and tossed over her shoulder, “Since when did you start handing out nicknames for my brother and Carmel?”

Adrian followed her out, keeping pace at her side. “If my girlfriend doesn’t like it, I’ll stop calling them that.” He flashed an easy smile, but in truth, those weren’t nicknames—they were his own private ranking system. He’d just use them behind their backs from now on.

Once Selene and Adrian had left, Carmel finally spoke up.

“Mr. Shaw is being awfully eager to help. You don’t think there’s something off about that?”

Luke snorted, “Did you see that cheap grin on his face?”

He snatched up the project proposal from the coffee table. “Right now, the only person who can help Selene gain Victor’s trust—and who we can actually rely on—is Adrian.”

Carmel considered this carefully, then nodded in agreement.

*

Sunlight spilled across Selene’s face as she sat in the car with Adrian, making her look almost ethereal.

“Dames is awake, you know?” Adrian’s voice broke the comfortable silence.

Selene nodded. “Yeah. Clayton texted me as soon as he came to.”

After Dames’ accident, Selene had stopped bringing Daph to the hospital. Gemma was impossible to reason with—every time Selene appeared, the old woman acted like she was facing down an enemy.

And now, after losing several honorary positions at major charities, Gemma’s resentment had only grown. At this point, she probably wished she could skin Selene alive.

If Selene went to the hospital again, Gemma would only start another tirade, which would do nothing to help Dames recover.

“I’ve already done everything I can,” Selene said quietly.

*

That day, Serenity Church closed its doors to the public once again, granting the Vaughn family exclusive use.

Gemma knelt on a prayer cushion, hands clasped, lips moving in silent supplication.

Dames slumped in his wheelchair, limbs encased in plaster, a brace fixed around his neck. His head had been shaved, and bandages wound in endless circles around his skull. His face was wan, the thick scent of incense making every breath a reminder of pain radiating from every bone and muscle.

He’d woken up only three days ago, but the moment he was conscious, Gemma had rushed him to Serenity Church, desperate for a miracle.

Once he was lucid enough, he’d asked, “Where’s Felicity?”

Gemma’s face twisted. She told him flatly, “Felicity’s been taken into custody.” Every time her name came up, Gemma spat out curses, her resentment sharp and poisonous.

After that, Dames never asked about Felicity again.

Since he woke, his grandfather, his father—even his great-grandfather—had all come to visit.

But the one person he wanted to see never showed.

Gemma never missed a chance to remind him how cold Selene had been. While tending to him, she’d repeat it over and over:

“When you got hurt, she didn’t even flinch. She dragged out a mountain of evidence to throw your father under the bus, the nerve.”

“When the nurses wheeled you into intensive care, she didn’t even look back. Just took Daph and left.”

“These past days, I’ve been camped outside your room, haven’t slept a wink. That woman hasn’t come by, not once.”

That woman really didn’t want him anymore.

Father Benedict’s eyes were full of compassion. “She offered up her bond as your mother, praying that you would grow up safe and healthy, all your life.”

“So… you’re saying Selene was the one who lit this candle?”

Gemma, stunned by Father Benedict’s words, quickly recovered and scoffed. “She probably just wants to worm her way back in as Mrs. Vaughn!”

Then she glanced down and saw fat tears rolling down Dames’ cheeks.

Alarmed, she asked, “Are you in pain somewhere?”

The candlelight wavered, stinging his eyes, and memories washed over him—last year, and the year before, playing hide-and-seek in the church with Daph, while Selene knelt before the altar, head bowed in earnest prayer.

“What did Mom wish for, anyway?”

“Of course her wishes were about you two.”

“Did she wish for me to become some big boss?”

Daph would always chime in, “Did she pray for us to be smart and do well in school?”

But Selene’s answer never changed. “I just wished you’d both grow up safe and healthy, no matter what.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Whether you’re a big boss or a genius doesn’t matter. As long as you’re safe and well, that’s all I want.”

Selene’s wishes had never changed. The only thing that had changed, twisted by time, was himself.

Even if she wasn’t his mother anymore, he still had to grow up safe and strong—little Damien.

Dames couldn’t hold back anymore. He broke into sobs, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Mom! I want my mom!”