Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 82

The interview dragged on, the conference room thick with a suffocating silence.

Throughout the rest of the questioning, Selene never once mentioned Vaughn Enterprises or so much as uttered Harrison’s name.

On the massive screen, the President of IBM flipped open a dictionary, searching for an idiom he’d been curious about. He read aloud the definition: “Nothing to write home about–meaning something is so trivial or unimportant, it’s not even worth a mention. Oh!”

The President of IBM let out a low whistle. “Harrison, it seems you don’t matter much to your wife.”

He spread his hands, peering through the webcam at Harrison, who stood stiffly in the middle of the conference room.

“Your wife called you her ex–husband. You divorced the woman who just won the national mathematics competition?”

The tension in the room shifted in an instant. The other shareholders could no longer keep calm.

“Mr. Vaughn, is it true? You’re really divorced?”

“She even told a National Broadcast Network reporter you were just her ex–husband! Is it official? Are you really over?”

“Didn’t you say you were just having a rough patch? How did it come to this? And does this mean there’s no chance she’ll be joining Vaughn Enterprises now?”

A chill seemed to emanate from Harrison. He was about to speak when Secretary Burnett hurriedly shoved his phone in front of him.

“Mr. Vaughn, your wife–she’s just announced the divorce on social media!”

Harrison didn’t notice the cold sweat beading on Burnett’s forehead. His gaze was locked on Selene’s post, displayed on the screen.

In a split second, his jaw tightened, his expression growing sharper, darker.

He pulled out his own phone, only to realize with a jolt that he couldn’t see Selene’s posts from his account.

She had already blocked him.

Just then, unread messages flooded Harrison’s phone.

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08.10

Most were congratulations–his ex–wife had taken first place in the national competition.

But a few, from those who’d seen Selene’s public announcement, asked the question he dreaded: Had he and Selene really split up?

Harrison felt as if something invisible was tearing him apart.

He opened the screenshot of Selene’s post: a bright red divorce certificate, and beneath it, four words:

A joyous occasion.

Those words felt like a thousand needles stabbing into Harrison’s eyes, each one bursting a capillary and leaving him raw and bleeding inside.

The Rose Garden Club, Capital City’s most exclusive ladies‘ afternoon tea, was in full swing.

This particular gathering wasn’t hosted by Gemma, but she was always the star at these society events.

“Is it true–Mr. Vaughn is really divorced?”

The news had left the city’s elite hostesses positively stunned.

“Of course it’s true! Would I lie to you?” Gemma announced her son’s divorce the moment she took her seat, the pride in her voice unmistakable.

She smirked, “It’s for the best! That country bumpkin left with nothing but the clothes on her back–not a penny, not a single property.”

One of the ladies ventured, “I heard Miss Thompson chose her daughter over her

son?”

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