Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 364

The practice had barely started—less than thirty seconds in.

“Ugh!”

Harrison staggered back a step, Daph’s direct hit leaving him gasping with a low groan. For a split second, he was sure his ribs had cracked.

Every muscle screamed in protest, nerves tingling with pain. The metallic taste of blood rushed up his throat, forcing him into a fit of violent coughing.

Perched atop the balance beam, Daph called down with concern, “Mr. Vaughn, are you alright?”

Harrison clutched his chest, stunned that just one kick from Daph had left him struggling to stand up straight.

Before he could answer, a crisp male voice rang out:

“Mr. Vaughn, are you sure you’re up for this?”

Harrison whipped around. Adrian was sprawled lazily against the gym wall, legs draped over the seat next to him, Selene sitting at his side. Adrian’s gaze was sharp and mocking, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Harrison’s sudden offer to help Daph practice—everyone knew what he was really after. Selene and Luke Holloway hadn’t bothered to intervene, fully aware of what would happen once Harrison stepped in.

Only Harrison seemed oblivious to the fact that his former daughter was in a league of her own.

“I’m perfectly fine!” Harrison snapped, unwilling to let Adrian look down on him. He needed Adrian to understand just how important he was in Daph’s life.

Selene ignored the ongoing spat between Adrian and Harrison. She sat quietly with a grocery bag in her lap, peeling an orange with careful fingers. Soon, when Daph took a break, she’d have a fruit plate ready.

Dames sat in his wheelchair a short distance away. His small figure was swallowed up by a bulky black parka, making him look as if he were nestled in a mountain of blankets.

He’d been staring at Selene ever since they entered the gym, but she hadn’t glanced his way even once.

Dames knew Selene was busy peeling oranges for Daph.

She broke the orange into neat segments, using a toothpick to pick out the tiny seeds.

Daph usually ate without a care—she’d gobble watermelon without spitting out the seeds, bite straight into apples without peeling them. Dames, on the other hand, was fussy: his watermelon had to be seedless and cut from the sweet center. Daph always teased him for wasting food, and whenever he left a half-eaten slice behind, she’d finish it off for him.

Apples had to be diced into little cubes; if Selene asked him to eat the peel, she’d have to carve it into little bunny shapes before he’d even consider it.

With oranges, Dames insisted on eating each segment individually, and he refused to eat the pith. Selene would always painstakingly strip it away for him.

But now, as Dames watched, Selene simply peeled the orange and left the pith on.

It was a clear sign—she hadn’t even considered that Dames might want any.

The orange was for Daph, and Daph alone.

Dames lowered his head, feeling the sting of being completely overlooked.

Just then, Carmel came in.

She plopped down beside Selene. “I washed the strawberries. Should I take the stems off? That’ll make it easier for Daph to eat.”

“Mhm, thanks.”

Selene’s reply was soft. Carmel reached into the bag, plucked off the green tops, and every so often, popped a berry into Selene’s mouth.

“Sweet?” Carmel asked.

Selene’s eyes sparkled as she chewed, the corners curving up like the reflection of the moon in a lake.

“You were married to Selene for seven years, and you never realized how important Carmel is to her?”

But Luke’s words gave Harrison a whole new perspective on Adrian.

So that’s why Adrian managed to win Selene back after her divorce—because he could put up with things no one else would.

Only now did Harrison realize that Adrian had meant every word he’d said all those months ago:

If things don’t work out with me, she’s free to see other people. But I’ll make sure Selene understands—others might be a hotel room, but I’m home.

Now, Selene had a hotel in one hand, and a home in the other.

Harrison found Adrian’s willingness to accommodate Selene’s open relationship both baffling and, in a way, enviable.

“Mr. Vaughn, can you keep training with me?” Daph’s voice chimed in behind him.

Harrison’s chest heaved. He coughed several times, unable to stop.

Turning back to Daph, he forced a smile. “Of course! Dad can train with you for ten hours if you want!”

Daph eyed him skeptically. “But you just coughed up blood.”

Harrison hastily licked his lips, swallowing hard as he tried to steady his breath.

He explained, “That’s just a sore throat, nothing serious.”

Luke Holloway watched the exchange, speechless. It was obvious to him that Harrison’s problem wasn’t a sore throat—it was sheer indignation.