How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Fletcher narrowed his eyes, a sly glint playing at their corners. To most, Fletcher seemed gentle, easy to approach, the kind of guy who could easily be friends with someone like Stuart. But Fletcher was anything but simple to deal with. Not even his parents could boss him around, so where did this guy get off thinking he could?

And Fletcher particularly despised anyone tugging at his clothes.

Out of seemingly nowhere, Fletcher produced a scalpel, its blade catching the light in a dangerous shimmer. With a faint smile still dancing in his fox-like eyes, he slowly brought the scalpel towards Violet's hand, which was clutching at his shirt.

Startled, Violet quickly let go.

Who in their right mind, Fletcher thought, carries a scalpel around and flashes a smile while ready to use it at the drop of a hat? Certainly not your average Joe.

Violet could sense Fletcher's cold indifference and realized bringing up Adelaide as leverage was futile. Her gaze turned to her son, writhing in agony on the hospital bed, the doctors bustling around cluelessly, unable to help.

facade, Violet understood only Fletcher could save her son

"Dr. Vaughn, please, I beg of you, save my son. He's all I've got. Whatever you

momentarily before he swiftly pocketed

notorious reputation, stepped forward with concern. "Dr.

wasn't out of spite; Jethro's critical condition was partly her and Barclay's fault, and she couldn't bear the thought

distinctly more accommodating than his

to plead for Adelaide's sake, paused, taken aback by Fletcher's cordial response. It seemed the bond between Fletcher and Stuart ran deep,

as she earnestly

today anyway," Fletcher said,

noncommittal all the way here, agreeing only to take a look and deciding