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.

But in the next instant, Claude was bandaging his arm, wrapping the wound meticulously, smiling as if nothing had happened.

The agent was even more frightened.

He wished for a different client, but Claude was Norbert's choice, an assignment he couldn't just discard.

He had no choice but to play it safe.

Morwenna was already asleep, oblivious to the bustling opening day her modest courier shop would have, drawing well-wishers from all walks of life.

In her dreams, Morwenna dreamt of Melvin, a sweet dream that ensured her sleep was deep and peaceful.

The next morning, she woke at six, her roommates still asleep. They must have been exceptionally quiet coming in last night, for she 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. But as she got out of bed, Dahlia's curtain rustled, and she sat up looking unrested, her eyes fixed on Morwenna.

Startled, Morwenna whispered, "You're up early."

Dahlia gestured outside, "I need to talk to you."

After getting ready, Dahlia followed Morwenna out of the dorm.

Dahlia had thought living with Morwenna would provide ample opportunity for one-on-one conversations, but days had passed without the right moment. Determined, she had set her alarm for 5:30, waking instantly to seize the moment with Morwenna.

Finally alone, they stepped outside, and Morwenna's stomach grumbled. Embarrassed, she admitted, "I'm a bit hungry."

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

Puzzled, Morwenna joined Dahlia for a meal.

After eating, Dahlia found a secluded spot to finally speak, "Morwenna, could you possibly connect me with Mr. Hetfield?"

Morwenna blinked in confusion, "Huh?"

"It's not for me, it's for my dad," Dahlia explained. "He's been trying to work with the Hetfield Group for ages but never got the chance. I was hoping you could make an introduction." Morwenna frowned, feeling uneasy about the request.

The dorm had sensed Dahlia's

intentions were not entirely pure, yet

Morwenna remained oblivious,

having never encountered such a request before. The idea of facilitating a connection with Stuart and the Hetfield Group was beyond her previous experiences, typically far removed from such elite circles.

Sensing her hesitation, Dahlia pressed on, "It's really no big deat Just a simple introduction. My dad will handle the rest. We're all friends here aren't you going to help out with this small favor?"