Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 476

Adrian really was a terrifying man.

But Selene couldn’t bring herself to dislike him for it.

Wasn’t this exactly the kind of thing he’d do?

Ever since he started weaving himself into her life, turning up at every opportunity, Selene had sensed just how calculated his every move was.

Once her secretary stepped out, Selene leaned back in her chair, putting some distance between herself and the desk.

“You can come out now,” she ordered.

Her voice was back to its calm, measured self. “I assume Mr. Shaw’s recovered by now?”

The man crawled out from under the desk—cramped quarters for someone his size, no doubt.

He blinked up at her, laughter glinting in his eyes. “Wasn’t that fun?”

“I almost fell for you, you know,” Selene shot back, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

He made a show of disappointment. “So you didn’t fall for me after all?”

Not giving up, he leaned in, lowering his voice to a suggestive whisper. “Did you enjoy touching me just now?”

Selene’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She had to admit, “I didn’t expect Mr. Shaw would be so… pleasant to touch.”

Their relationship had shifted; she wasn’t so formal with him anymore, usually calling him simply Adrian. But now, using “Mr. Shaw” again, her voice was teasing—almost daring.

Adrian realized she’d figured him out. Crawling under her desk had just been another one of his little games—an attempt to trigger the so-called “suspension bridge effect,” to make her heart race and think it was for him.

Now that Selene had called him out on it, Adrian felt a stab of frustration, but his heart pounded all the faster.

What was he supposed to do? Selene wasn’t falling for him, but he found himself falling even harder for her.

Adrian swallowed, his voice growing husky. “If you want to touch me, you can—anytime.”

Selene’s lips curled. “Actually, there’s something else I’d like to borrow your hands for.”

Adrian froze for a moment, then offered his hand to her, palm up. “They’re all yours. However you want to use them.”

Now it was his turn to flush, the tips of his ears burning. “Do you… need me to sanitize first?”

Every employee’s screen flickered, then began streaming a security camera video.

Executives recognized the office on the footage right away—it was Gwyneth’s.

In the surveillance feed, a man was pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling window, and if you looked closer, you’d see a woman half-hidden behind his broad frame. Her slender legs were visible, peeking out from the side of his waist.

As the man shifted, the camera caught the woman’s face in perfect high-definition.

For a heartbeat, the entire company went silent. Then everyone erupted into chaos.

It didn’t take long for people to realize—the man in the video was Gwyneth’s new assistant, hired just three days ago.

Gwyneth was infamous for surrounding herself with six male assistants, every one of them handsome and athletic. But everyone knew their contracts ended at twenty-five—after that, they’d be replaced without question.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Someone pounded on the CEO’s office door from outside.

“Ms. Lockridge!” voices called, urgent and alarmed.

On her desk, Gwyneth’s phone buzzed, lighting up with call after call.