Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 393

“Waaah! Waaah!”

Dames broke down in loud, helpless sobs. His little voice cracked as he cried out, “I want Mommy! Daddy! I just want my mommy!”

Harrison’s handsome features turned to stone, a thin layer of ice sealing away any emotion. He ignored Dames, turning on his heel and leaving the nursery without a backward glance.

As the door closed behind him, Dames’s wailing was muffled by the thick walls.

*

Harrison returned to his own room, but the cold emptiness seemed to squeeze the air from his lungs. The chill crept up from the soles of his feet, sinking deep into his bones.

He strode into the walk-in closet and yanked open every drawer, pulling out ties, watches, cufflinks—every accessory he owned.

Had Selene given him this one? Or that one? Was this tie a gift from her or just something his stylist picked out?

He realized, with a jolt, that he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t tell which items Selene had chosen for him and which had come from his wardrobe consultant. Oddly, he could still recall which gifts his business associates had given him, but Selene’s? He had never really looked at any of them.

He’d ignored them all, never sparing a real glance, never treasuring them. And now, he had no idea what, exactly, Selene had given him.

Harrison took out his phone and snapped photos of the pile of accessories, sending them to his stylist and asking for help to identify which ones she had purchased.

Even though it was the middle of the night, his stylist scrambled to reply. Finally, Harrison managed to pick out the ties and cufflinks Selene had given him.

He ran his fingers across the intricate weave of the tie, the gleaming gemstone set in the cufflink. He owned so many ties and cufflinks from Selene—yet Adrian, their son, had only one.

A bitter smile twisted Harrison’s lips. He carefully set Selene’s gifts aside, placing them in a separate storage box.

He crossed the hallway into the master bedroom. The room was empty, but he searched for any trace of Selene’s presence, any sign she had once lived here.

He opened her wardrobe. It was still filled with her clothes—dresses, blouses, nightgowns—things she hadn’t taken with her. Had she left them behind on purpose, so he’d have something to remember her by?

Harrison took out one of her favorite nightgowns, pressing the soft fabric to his face, breathing in the faint, lingering scent.

Was this what Selene smelled like? He couldn’t even remember her scent anymore.

He lay down on the bed she used to sleep in, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Turning onto his side, he clutched her robe to his chest and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing with remembered pain.

The events at The Thompson Group’s gala replayed in his mind, every detail vivid and raw. Even now, after the drugs and the hallucinations, the memory made his heart race.

He told himself he was just sentimental, that the only reason he didn’t want to move on from the woman who had once shared his bed was nostalgia.

*

Meanwhile, in a hospital room somewhere in the city:

Felicity’s eyes fluttered open. She found herself lying on a single cot, feeling groggy and sore.

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