How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

Chapter 475
The tattooed thug grabbed Adelaide and began dragging her toward the bedroom. Panic surged through Adelaide, her anger
now tempered by a chilling fear. "Wait, please," she pleaded, her voice rising with desperation. "You need me. I'm the one who
can get Morwenna sold. Without me, she's useless to you."
But the inked thug was in no mood for negotiation, his anger palpable. A sneer twisted his lips. "Sell her to Phineas, right? We
don't need you for that. Don't overestimate your worth. I've been wanting to see what it's like with one of you spoiled heiresses."
Dragged into the room, Adelaide's screams turned into a tirade of curses, only to be silenced by two hard slaps from the thug.
Meanwhile, Morwenna lay soaked on the floor, her eyelids fluttering but refusing to open. It seemed fate was punishing her

misplaced kindness, always given to those who meant her harm.
In the bathroom of the same house, a slightly overweight man was making a painstaking effort to free himself. Standing
cautiously, he reached for the razor on the sink, its blade sharp and ready. Sweat poured down his face as he worked to cut
through the ropes binding him.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to free himself. He peered through a crack in the door, his eyes falling on his
precious collection of figurines scattered across the floor. His heart sank-these kidnappers had not only taken over his home but
had also desecrated his cherished possessions. Some were rare, irreplaceable, and handcrafted his treasures.
Fueled by an intense anger, the man knew he had to act. Though his phone was out of reach, he remembered another device
hidden in the bathroom-a tablet tucked inside a fluffy, cute cover, perfect for watching shows while soaking in the bath. The
kidnappers, dismissing him as a harmless shut-in, hadn't noticed it.
Outside, the thugs were still joking about the scene in the bedroom, oblivious to the fury brewing inside the bathroom. The man
logged into his social media account and began posting frantically, risking discovery to spread the word. He claimed he knew
where Lucky, the missing person everyone was searching for, was being held-right here in his house.
Initially, his cries went unheard, his limited followers offering no help. Undeterred, he snapped a photo of Morwenna and posted it
under a popular influencer's thread. This time, his post caught fire, drawing a flood of attention.
Comments flooded in: "No way, that's really Lucky! She looks hurt, just lying there. Is she alive?" "This s insane how can this
happen in a civilized society?" "Hey, tell us where you are! We'll call the cops and get those bastards!"

Morwenna was caught in a foggy haze, teetering on the edge of consciousness.
An hour later, the tattooed thug emerged from the room, greeted by jeering questions from his accomplices. "So, how was it?"
they laughed.
"Not worth the effort," he replied with disdain. "Skin and bones, nothing to savor."
"You're brutal, man," one of them chuckled. "If we weren't tied up with business, I'd want a taste myself, see what you mean by
'nothing to savor.""
"Forget it," another chimed in. "She looks too fragile-don't want her dead before she contacts Phineas."