Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 437

Leo’s words landed like a thunderclap, leaving the room in stunned silence.

For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed Patriarch Vaughn’s usually impassive face.

“You—!” Harrison began to protest, but Liam cut him off sharply.

“That’s enough! When a son goes astray, the father bears the blame. Dames ordered people to set fire to the chapel—he’s crossed a line that can’t be undone!”

Liam’s patience was gone; his voice was clipped and cold. “The three of you, go pack your things. I’ll have a car take you down the mountain tonight.”

Gemma’s voice rose in protest. “Can’t it wait until morning? Why rush us off in the middle of the night like this?”

Liam shot her a glare. “You want to wait for sunrise, so tomorrow all the parishioners can watch you climb the steps to Serenity Church, stopping every few feet to kneel and pray for forgiveness? With everyone’s phone out, filming? The moment you three start your penance, someone’s going to post it online. You may not care about your reputation, but I do!”

He and Gemma had been close for years, and he’d never lost his temper with her like this before.

Gemma was known for her petulant outbursts, but Liam had always indulged her. This time, though, his anger left her bristling with indignation. “Dames made a mistake—what’s it got to do with me? Harrison works day and night, he barely has time to be a father. If you ask me, the one to blame is Selene! She was supposed to look after Dames. If she’d just kept her place as Mrs. Vaughn, stopped with this nonsense about divorce, Dames wouldn’t have lashed out at Altair or tried to burn down the chapel…”

Her voice was shrill, accusatory.

But before she could finish, Leo’s cool, commanding voice sliced through the tension. “Silence her.”

His assistant didn’t hesitate—a callused hand struck Gemma across the face, the force of it sending her stumbling back several steps.

A sharp ringing filled her ear. Gemma gasped, eyes wide, clutching the side of her face as it swelled before their eyes. “How dare you—”

She whirled on the assistant, but Leo, seated in his wheelchair, turned to face her. His eyes, cold and unreadable, barely flickered with emotion.

He addressed Patriarch Vaughn instead. “Dad, when you have the time, pick a proper wife for my brother.”

Gemma’s eyes bulged in disbelief, her shoulders trembling as panic overtook her. She looked frantically from Liam to Patriarch Vaughn.

Liam, caught between anger and desperation, called out to Leo, “I’ll have someone escort Gemma to the church to pray for Altair. She’ll stay there in retreat for two weeks—maybe some solitude will teach her humility!”

But now, he could see regret in the old man’s eyes—regret for his choices, for him, and even more for Dames.

How had things come to this?

Ever since the divorce from Selene, Harrison’s life had fallen into chaos. Before, he’d never had to worry about the children—Selene had always managed everything. Only now did he realize how much he’d depended on her as Mrs. Vaughn.

*

That night, Harrison and Gemma began their climb from the foot of the mountain, kneeling and bowing with every few steps on the long path up.

Dames, still recovering, was spared the ordeal. Harrison bore the punishment for both of them.

Dames trailed behind, watching as Harrison and Gemma knelt on the cold stone steps, inching their way up in the biting wind.

Dim streetlights cast pale halos along the path. Several Vaughn family bodyguards followed at a distance, reporting every ten minutes to Liam and Leo’s staff on the progress of Harrison and Gemma’s midnight penance.