How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

In the dead of night, Morwenna crept forward, silent as a shadow.

Her years of navigating rugged terrains had honed her stealth, blending her into the darkness and making her nearly invisible.

It wasn't until she was almost upon him that the man, flicking the last embers from his cigarette, turned his head.

With a swift strike of her steel pipe, the man merely grunted, too stunned to cry for help or see who had hit him, before collapsing to the ground.

Morwenna grabbed his collar, gently easing his body down to avoid any noise that might alert others inside the factory.

She then crouched near the metal door, peering through the crack.

What she saw then was a blow to her heart.

There was Stuart, bound and restrained.

The fantasy that perhaps there had been a mistake with his location, or that his phone had merely been lost, evaporated. It was undeniable now.

Stuart sat tied to a chair, his white shirt stained with fresh blood, a shallow cut marking his neck. What a chilling sight!

Beside him stood a man with an eyepatch, brandishing a knife, seemingly interrogating Stuart. Stuart remained silent, and the man sliced the knife across Stuart’s shoulder.

Yet, Stuart was eerily calm, more akin to a sovereign on his throne than a captive.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Morwenna clenched her fists tightly, making no sound as she quickly assessed the situation. Five men were guarding Stuart inside the abandoned factory.

The level of security made it clear they were deeply wary of Stuart.

Morwenna hitched her breathing. What should she do?

Charging in recklessly against the captors wasn’t wise. But she couldn’t delay either. The man who’d gone to relieve himself would soon return, making her odds even worse. Moreover, from her observations, they checked for disturbances every twenty minutes. Only thirteen minutes remained until the next check.

She made her decision swiftly.

They were harming Stuart. She couldn’t wait any longer.

She had already alerted the police and even notified Fletcher, but either party would need time to reach this remote location.

Biting down on her resolve, Morwenna moved away from the door, heading towards the bathroom area.

If she was going to be exposed, she'd confront them one by one, starting with the man outside.

If she could rescue Stuart, she would try. If not, she would face capture alongside him and wait for the police.

Once she made up her mind, Morwenna clutched her steel pipe, ready to spring into action like a cheetah.

The man, humming a tune, ambled back leisurely, his guard lowered by the lateness of the hour and the apparent security.

Morwenna, crouched like a predator in the night, sprang forward. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Though the man seemed relaxed, his reflexes were sharper than Morwenna had anticipated. He dodged at the last moment, avoiding the strike.

With a fierce glare, Morwenna tackled him to the ground.

Too close to effectively use the pipe, she raised her fist and slammed it into his temple.

Her strike was forceful like a hammer blow.

The man went still.

Breathing out deeply, Morwenna confirmed he was out cold before turning swiftly and heading back to the factory.