Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 391

“The whole city’s talking about it! You were at The Thompson Group with Felicity, both of you drugged out of your minds, and you just... hooked up, not caring who saw! Look!” Gemma thrust her phone under Harrison’s nose. “Every single WhatsApp group I’m in is blowing up with videos and photos of you and Felicity!”

Harrison glanced at the screen. Photos and video clips of Felicity, her face battered and bruised, sprawled across the floor, were spreading like wildfire through every chat group in town.

Clearly, some of the guests who had gathered in the doorway to watch the drama had secretly filmed everything. And these weren’t just any guests—they were all society’s elite, people with reputations to uphold. The fact that they had posted these images gave them a certain authority.

By now, the footage had made the rounds multiple times, making it impossible to trace where it all began.

In nearly every shot, Felicity took center stage—her injuries harsh and unmissable. Harrison himself appeared only as a shadowy figure in a few grainy frames.

He handed the phone back to his mother. “I’ll make sure the truth gets out. Nothing happened between me and Felicity.”

Gemma let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you didn’t get involved with that… that brute! There are plenty of respectable young women in this city just waiting for the chance to be Mrs. Vaughn. The Thompsons aren’t even good enough to shine your shoes!”

Harrison started up the stairs but suddenly stopped, his back still to Gemma. His voice was steady, but the warning in it was unmistakable. “Mom. Don’t let me hear you insult the Thompsons again.”

Gemma froze in disbelief. “Harrison, what did you just say?”

His hands clenched into fists. The wounds on his wrists—a fresh row of stitches still covered by bandages—throbbed painfully whenever he tightened his grip. He’d changed clothes before coming back; Gemma only caught a faint whiff of antiseptic on him and had no idea about his injury.

“Selene is Dames’s mother. And I won’t tolerate you—his grandmother—running down the Thompsons ever again.”

He let out a slow, ragged breath, his patience visibly fraying.

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