How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband novel Chapter 300

At the Irons' grand soirée, Mr. Hetfield and Morwenna took to the dance floor, their moves as seamless as they were enchanting.

Rumors were swirling faster than a tornado in Kansas. Whispers had it that Morwenna was seen delivering lunch to the Hetfield Group headquarters and, hold your horses, she even made it to the top floor!

Not too long ago, tongues wagged about Mr. Hetfield playing the knight in shining armor to a damsel in distress at a downtown bar.

Is it possible? Has the ice around Mr. Hetfield's heart finally melted?

Once, Adelaide was considered the only one to breach his defenses, making her the unicorn among ladies.

But now, a barmaid and a struggling student have seemingly caught his eye. What does this mean for the rest of us high-society dames?

Keegan, with a tone as serious as a judge, broke into the conversation. "Heard through the grapevine that the Hetfield family's longtime buddies, the Vaughns and the Nelsons, are stirring the pot. What's Mr. Hetfield's take on this?"

"No dice," came the reply, as cool as a cucumber. "Mr. Hetfield hasn't even met with them. If Ms. Irons couldn't snag more than a glance from him, what chance do the rest have?"

Keegan's face was stone-cold serious. "Good to know. Outsiders may be clueless, but we Hetfields know the score. Miss Morwenna and Mr. Hetfield are practically an item. Let's keep our eyes peeled. With the recent drama at the old mansion and Norbert's health, we can't afford any surprises."

Keaton nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, Orson was hunkered down in a corner, his trusty slingshot, a gift from Morwenna, at the ready for some bird hunting. That's when he overheard his brothers' exchange.

Dropping his avian ambitions faster than a hot potato, Orson sprinted to alert Morwenna with his phone in hand.

"Madam! You've gotta keep an eye on Mr. Hetfield. A bunch of femme fatales are trying to worm their way into his life."

Morwenna, caught off guard, asked, "Where on earth did you pick up such colorful language?"

Orson's train of thought derailed instantly. "Old man's doing well, eating more these days. He keeps asking about you, says the malt candy's all gone and the cabbage in the garden's overgrown. He's saving it, says it's waiting for you..."

As Orson rambled on, Morwenna listened with a gentle expression.

"Don't worry about me, Orson. Just take care of Norbert Hetfield. I'll be home for the holidays soon."

"You got it, Miss Morwenna. I'll keep an eye on both Mr. Norbert and Mr. Hetfield for you!"

"Thanks, Orson."

As Orson hung up, a chill ran down his spine. Turning around, he found Mr. Hetfield standing behind him, his aura as ominous as a storm cloud.

"Who were you talking to? And who exactly are you keeping an eye on?" Stuart's voice was laced with a dangerous edge.