How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

At that moment, Claude, with his striking silver hair and pale eyes, lounged in a chair, looking as flawless as a porcelain doll.

His agent, a bit on edge, announced, "Everything's arranged."

Claude's light gray eyes met the agent's, his smile sweet, "Thank you," he said appreciatively.

A shiver ran down the agent's spine, unexplained.

Claude had descended upon the company like a comet just a few days ago, immediately placed under this top agent's care by direct order from Norbert himself.

At first, the agent had thought him an angelic youth.

In these times, uniqueness was celebrated. Claude's silver hair and pale eyes didn't deter his appeal; if anything, they became his trademark. His devilishly handsome looks paired with a youthful voice, and his first two singles had already amassed a huge following.

Before the agent could revel in this success, he witnessed Claude playing with a knife on his arm, tracing patterns with a disturbing kind of madness.

The agent was terrified.

Claude was bandaging his arm, wrapping the wound meticulously, smiling as if nothing had

was even

wished for a different client, but Claude was Norbert's choice, an assignment he

had no choice but to play it

opening day her modest courier shop would have, drawing well-wishers from all walks

dreams, Morwenna dreamt of Melvin, a sweet dream

hadn't stirred. Morwenna decided to quietly get ready and leave without disturbing anyone. After all, her shop's grand opening wasn't until nine, and there was plenty of time.

Morwenna whispered,

"I need to

followed

with Morwenna would provide ample opportunity for one-on-one conversations, but days had passed without the right moment. Determined, she

they stepped outside, and Morwenna's stomach grumbled. Embarrassed, she admitted,

needing a favor, couldn't very well discuss business on an empty stomach. Pushing aside her impatience, she suggested, "Let's grab some breakfast