Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 302

Selene looked straight at Luke Holloway and told him, “This is just a business arrangement.”

She said it as much for herself as for him.

*

That night, Selene slept deeply and peacefully. She wasn’t sure if it was because Luke had massaged her wrist, working the stiffness and bruises from her skin, or if it was the satisfaction she felt after taking a cane to Harrison with her own hands. Either way, every part of her felt relaxed.

When she opened her eyes again, morning sunlight was already streaming in.

Selene got out of bed and checked her phone.

Harrison had been locked up all night, and not a single plea for help had come from him.

He sure could hold out.

Or maybe he’d already had an accident in his pants?

He used to be the picture of polished success—always looking like he owned the world. His showers had to be exactly 108 degrees, and if the temperature was off by so much as half a degree, he’d frown in annoyance.

He never wore the same shirt twice. If his suit jacket had the slightest wrinkle, he’d demand a new one.

If sauce on his plate touched the rim, he couldn’t stand it; too much sauce, anything that looked messy or soupy, he’d push away in disgust.

His linens were silk in summer, cashmere in winter, changed every other day. Every set of sheets, every comforter, every season—he insisted on a single, precise color.

That was the kind of meticulous, high-maintenance man he was. And now? Locked in a room, no water, no bathroom breaks.

He had to sit upright on the floor the whole night. If this kept up, Harrison’s backside would be numb for a week.

Just thinking about it, Selene actually felt a flicker of anticipation.

Was she being too cruel?

Honestly, she thought she could stand to be even crueler to him.

*

Selene made breakfast for her daughter and set a pot of hot soup on the table.

She ladled a bowl for her daughter and then went to her room to get dressed.

Selene had already spoken with the homeroom teacher, so when Altair came, the teacher let Daph leave with him.

Backpack slung over her shoulder, Daph followed Altair into the hospital’s private ward.

Dames was still swaddled in plaster, limbs wrapped tight—he’d snuck out of the hospital one too many times, and now the entire Vaughn Enterprises staff had orders to keep a close eye on him.

After his latest escape, he’d only made his injuries worse. Now, even the smallest movement left him exhausted. All he could do was lie perfectly still, staring up at the blinding white ceiling, his dark eyes vacant.

“Dames.”

Daph’s voice broke the silence. Dames blinked and finally focused on her and Altair standing at his bedside.

At the sight of Altair, Dames’ expression soured.

He turned his gaze away. “Why’d you bring him… I don’t want to see either of you…”

His voice was barely more than a mutter, petulant and hurt.

Daph unzipped her backpack and pulled out the thermos. “I brought you some soup. Mom made it herself.”