Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 426

Harrison sat in the police station, watching the surveillance footage the officers had queued up for him.

On the grainy screen, his assistant was clearly visible on the upper floor of the auditorium, stacking flammable material and then setting it alight.

That very same assistant now sat across from Harrison, hands shackled together with steel cuffs.

At that moment, Harrison’s anger reached its breaking point. His chiseled features sharpened as his jaw tightened, and his dark eyes flashed with a dangerous red glint. He shot to his feet, grabbed the assistant by the collar, and yanked him forward so hard that the man’s chest slammed against the edge of the table with a dull thud.

The assistant found himself staring straight into Harrison’s murderous glare. Beneath the table, his legs trembled uncontrollably.

“Mr... Mr. Vaughn, please, let me explain!”

The police officers rushed over, trying to pry Harrison’s fist from the man’s shirt.

“Mr. Vaughn, calm down, please.”

“How am I supposed to calm down?” Harrison roared. “My wife burned to death because of you! You really expect me to stay calm?”

One of the officers seized Harrison’s other arm, trying to restrain him, but Harrison shoved the hand away and, with a single brutal motion, slammed the assistant’s head down onto the table, as if he meant to smash it through the wood.

“Ugh—agh!” the assistant gasped, choking on the pain.

Several officers moved in, finally managing to restrain Harrison, forcing him to let go.

“Mr. Vaughn, please! We need you to calm down!”

One of the detectives, catching his breath, spoke up. “According to Wesley’s statement, he acted under instructions from your son, Damien. He set fire to the auditorium at Charteris Academy. While the fire didn’t result in any casualties, it did put public safety at serious risk... Now, about your wife—how does she fit into this? Did Wesley have anything to do with any other violent crimes?”

The detective’s words stopped Harrison cold. He turned, fixing the officer with a piercing look. “Are you sure? No one was hurt in the fire at the auditorium?”

Harrison ran a trembling hand across his sweat-dampened brow, pushing his hair back from his forehead. Relief still flooding through him, he barely registered the next words from the detective:

“Since your son is only five years old, he can’t be held responsible for the incident. That’s why we called you here, Mr. Vaughn. As his parent, you’ll need to answer for him.”

Harrison looked up, his expression settling into an icy, distant calm.

His posture radiated command, and in an instant, the mood of the entire room shifted—he was back in control.

“So tell me,” he said, his voice steady now. “Why would Damien ask you to set the fire?”

The assistant, forced back into his seat by the officers, his lower face still smeared with blood, could only stare helplessly at the floor.

The detectives exchanged uneasy glances. They’d brought Harrison in for questioning, but somehow, he’d ended up taking over the room.