Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 509

“So you think you deserve a senior position here? You really believe you’re qualified?”

There was little mockery in Harrison’s voice—he didn’t need it. Superiority was simply woven into his being, a cold indifference that made him look down on everyone else like they were insects beneath his feet—hardly worth a passing glance.

Annalise Johnston’s face drained of color. She had never been so openly, so nakedly demeaned.

She’d always prided herself on her time studying abroad in London, her published articles, the way she’d been hailed as a future star of Wall Street. But to Harrison, she was nothing more than a piece of trash.

Her cheeks burned red with humiliation. “Then why did you even invite me into your car?”

Harrison looked away, his chiseled features set in icy impatience, as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain anything to someone so beneath him.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll be my personal assistant. You’ll clock in at Vaughn Enterprises every morning, do as you’re told, and report to the executive office.”

A shrill ringing exploded in Annalise’s mind, as if someone had lobbed a grenade into her skull and blown her thoughts to smithereens.

“Personal… assistant? What does that even entail?”

Harrison’s frosty gaze landed on her, and this time there was no mistaking the scorn in his eyes—wordless, brutal, calling her an idiot without saying a word.

“Even if you’ve never worked a real job, you must’ve at least seen someone else do it. Report to the executive office tomorrow; they’ll tell you what to do.”

Her hands clenched in her lap, nails digging crescents into her palms. “I joined Vaughn Enterprises to put my skills to use. You want me running errands, making coffee—doing things any intern can do? Isn’t that just a colossal waste of talent?”

Harrison signaled the driver to pull over. When the car stopped, he issued his command: “You can get out now.”

She realized he’d had her dropped off not at her home, but at a city bus stop. He had a shred of decency left, but not much.

“You’re not taking me home?” she asked, her voice barely steady.

He lost all patience. “Would you rather I kicked you out, or do you want to leave on your own?”

She nearly broke the skin on her lip as she bit down, then pushed open the door and stepped out, ready to slam it behind her.

But Harrison’s voice stopped her cold: “If you want something from me, Miss Johnston, you’d better learn this—if I told you to eat dirt and smile while you did it, you’d better ask for seconds. Understood?”