Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 351

The moment Clarissa Vaughn laid eyes on Gwyneth Lockridge, only one word echoed in her mind: beautiful. The woman standing before her was tall and impossibly striking, with delicate features and a cascade of thick, dark hair. It was rare for someone’s presence alone to leave such a forceful impression.

“I don’t care whose parent you are—if you lay a hand on a teacher, I’ll report you to the headmaster!” Abbey Hargrove snapped, her voice sharp. The surname Lockridge wasn’t common, and she was fairly certain she’d never taught a student by that name.

Her gaze darted between Gwyneth and Selene Thompson, back and forth.

Honestly, if Gwyneth didn’t look so incredibly young, Abbey would have assumed she was Selene’s mother.

Clarissa, her cheek still swollen, tried to muster a fawning smile for Gwyneth. The effect made her look like a squirrel with its cheeks stuffed full of nuts.

“Ms. Lockridge, I swear I didn’t mean it like that…” she stammered. The moment Gwyneth’s steely gaze fell on her, Clarissa shuddered and reflexively slapped herself across the face.

“It was my fault! I spoke out of turn—I shouldn’t have said those things. Ms. Lockridge, please, you’re so much bigger than this—could you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Abbey watched, astonished, as Clarissa’s demeanor flipped faster than the pages of a book. A flicker of fear crept into her eyes as she looked at Gwyneth.

In a hushed voice, Abbey asked, “Is she someone you really can’t cross?”

Clenching her teeth, Clarissa hissed back, “The bank that pays your salary? It’s owned by the Lockridge Group.”

That single sentence drained the color from Abbey’s face.

One of the five largest banks in Aldonia was just a subsidiary of the Lockridge Group. Suddenly, the woman standing before her seemed even more formidable than anyone at Vaughn Enterprises.

Cold sweat beaded on Abbey’s forehead, sliding down in fat drops.

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