How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Stuart yanked the curtains shut, cutting off his view. The woman was crafty enough to trick Norbert and now her weeping? Just a performance.

Unaware of the observer above, Morwenna wept quietly before drying her eyes and steeling herself. The damage was done, and crying wouldn't fix anything. She had to do her best to mend the situation. The flowers she had uprooted in the afternoon lay beside her, waiting for their replantation. Under the moonlight, Morwenna moved with a resilience that belied her delicate frame, bustling about the garden.

It was 3 A.M.

Stuart suddenly awoke, his eyes filled with a restless irritation vastly different from his daytime indolence, feeling like he was still trapped in a nightmare.

It was too quiet.

The silence was oppressive, like being in a pitch-black sewer, a monster lurking in the shadows.

Then, he heard a faint, delicate sound.

The sound shattered the oppressive darkness binding him.

pulling aside the curtain. Below, he saw the source of the noise. Morwenna

was tight, and she could only save what she could and compensate for the losses later. Her head spun, probably from the cold shower she had the previous day, which might have brought

orchids. The longer they were out of

illness was a minor inconvenience,

streak across the sky, finishing replanting

suddenly, the watering can fell from her hands, and

cold from the cold bath, laboring in the afternoon sun, and staying

second floor and

reluctantly picked her up and

want to face Norbert's questions if something happened to her under

fetched some fever reducer and commanded

unresponsive in

her up and forced