Once Downtrodden; Now Divine

Chapter 4

Jaxon threw his head back and laughed hard. 

“Donald,” he sneered, “don’t kid yourself. This isn’t some prison yard where you puff your chest and spout garbage. Out here, words like that don’t make you tough, they get you crushed!”

Jane stepped up beside him with her arms crossed and her smirk sharp.

Her lips which were painted blood-red, curved into a cruel smile.

“Honestly, Donald, two years in prison, and look at you. Pathetic! I thought time inside might give you dignity, but no. You come out even more shameless! Stop humiliating yourself...”

Just then, Bianca Marlow, the secretary tasked with receiving the important guest that Ivy Harrington herself had instructed her to welcome, frowned impatiently. 

“Excuse me… Sir, if you are truly claiming to be the guest Ms. Harrington is waiting for, then you must have proof. Do you have anything to back up your words?”

Donald raised an eyebrow and arched his lips.

“Yes. I have proof. A gift personally entrusted to me by Miss Harrington's father.”

His hand moved to his pocket, ready to draw out the matte black-gold card that the prison warden had given him. 

He curved his lips into a mocking and cruel smile, wanting to see how such a gold digging Jane would react when she discovered he had a black card.

But before the card could leave his pocket, Jane’s hand shot out like lightning, gripping his wrist.

“Stop this madness!” she snapped coldly, glaring at him as if he were a stray dog that had wandered into the lobby.

“Where on earth would trash like you even get near Miss Harrington’s father, let alone be allowed to speak to him?"

“Wake up! This isn’t some gutter bar where men like you crawl back to brag.

This is DeGrand Corporation! A convict like you doesn’t even deserve to stand in this building let alone speak. Do you enjoy humiliating yourself?”

She turned sharply to the secretary.

“Miss Marlow, this man has no business being here. Letting people like him loiter would tarnish the company’s reputation.”

Bianca didn't hesitate for a second and decided to call security.

After all, how could someone like Donald possibly have a gift from Ivy's father? That's ridiculous. Jane and Jaxon must be the 'VIP guests'.

Bianca lifted her chin and gestured firmly to the security at the doors.

“Throw him out. Immediately!”

The security guards moved in, ushering him toward the glass doors with firm, unyielding pushes.

Donald didn’t resist, neither did he move. Instead, he fixed his sharp gaze on the secretary standing beside the guest registry.

“Are you sure that I’m not the important guest you’re looking for?” He asked.

The secretary didn't hesitate.

After all, there was no way someone like Donald would be a VIP guest, judging from his looks, so there was nothing to be bothered about. She had no doubt that Jaxon and Jane were the VIP guests.

“Well, I can bet that you're not—”

Donald took a step closer, with a low but cutting voice.

“Because if you’ve got the wrong person, and your mistake offends the wrong people, what do you think happens next? To you… to this entire event?”

This moment, a flicker of unease crossed her face. Her hands, which had been resting confidently on the counter moments ago, now trembled slightly.

However, she still tried to convince herself inwardly that the VIp guest couldn’t be Donald.

Around them, the guards exchanged uncertain glances, sensing something off about Donald’s composure—his tone wasn’t one of a man bluffing for attention.

Jaxon scoffed loudly. “Enough of this nonsense! He’s just trying to scare you. He’s a nobody pretending to matter.”

Donald slowly turned his head toward him with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Is that so? You might want to hold that thought.”

The guards gave another shove, steering him toward the exit. Still, Donald didn’t lose his composure. Instead, he glanced back over his shoulder, his voice laced with quiet amusement.

“See you in a bit.”

Bianca, meanwhile, guided Jane and Jaxon toward the VIP room with a respectful smile. 

“This way, please.”

Moments later, Bianca stepped out of the VIP room, smoothing her skirt and preparing to inform Ivy that the guests were settled. 

She hurried toward the elevator. 

Just then, the elevator chimed open, and out stepped Miss Harrington herself, impeccably dressed, exuding an aura of authority that made the air around her seem thinner. 

Her eyes immediately fixed on Bianca.

“Why hasn’t the VIP guest arrived yet?” she asked.

An ingratiating smile appeared on Bianca's face.

“Miss Harrington. I have already escorted the two distinguished guests to the VIP room.”

But then, she saw that Miss Harrington’s brow furrowed. 

“Two people? There was only supposed to be one VIP guest.”

What?  The secretary's eyes widened for a moment. For an instant, she thought she had found the wrong person, but then something came to her mind, and her expression immediately softened.

"Indeed, there is only one VIP guest," the secretary said respectfully, "the other is the VIP guest's partner."

But then, she uncomprehendingly saw that Miss Harrington’s frown deepened. 

Her voice was low and edged with disbelief.

“Bianca, enlighten me—how did you know that my VIP guest has a partner?”

Bianca blinked rapidly, confusion flickering across her face.

“I—Miss Harrington, I thought you must’ve seen the news…” she stammered, trying to steady her voice.

“It’s everywhere—Mr. Jaxon Brown and Miss Jane Wilson. Their relationship’s been all over the tabloids this week. I assumed he was the one—your guest.”

For a heartbeat, the air around Ivy seemed to still. Then her eyes hardened, sharp as glass.

“Who did you just say?”

Bianca swallowed. “Jaxon Brown, ma’am. The Brown Group’s heir.”

Silence pressed down for a single, dangerous second before Ivy’s expression darkened completely.

Her elegant composure didn’t break—but her tone turned icily precise.

“Bianca, after all the years you’ve worked under me—after everything I’ve taught you—how could you possibly think that someone like Jaxon Brown would ever be my VIP guest?”

Bianca froze, her face draining of color.

Ivy took a step closer.

“Have you lost your memory? Did you forget what kind of people I keep company with?

You’ve seen the circles I move in, yet you bring a man like Jaxon—that tabloid leech—into the VIP room at a moment like this?”

Her words landed like lashes, crisp and merciless.

“I thought you had better judgment. You should know by now that I don’t even look at men like him.”

Bianca flinched, but she quickly defended herself. 

“There was… there was no one else downstairs, Miss Harrington. Just Mr Brown and Miss Wilson.”

Miss Harrington’s eyes narrowed and her tone turned dangerously quiet.

“Bianca,” she said softly, “think. Very carefully.”

The young secretary froze.

“I want you to recall everyone who was in that lobby. Every face. Every detail. Do not speak until you are absolutely certain,” Ivy continued with her gaze unwavering.

Bianca’s pulse pounded in her ears.

She replayed the faces she’d seen earlier.

Within a moment, her breath caught when one image surfaced in her mind.

There had been another man.

“T-there was someone else,” she stammered, voice trembling. “He wasn’t dressed like the others… tall, with striking features, very calm… He looked out of place but—”

Her voice faltered as she swallowed hard. “I thought he was just… some impostor pretending to be important.”

Ivy’s expression didn’t change—but her eyes gleamed with sharp recognition. “Describe him.”

“H-he was wearing a dark tailored suit,” Bianca whispered, shaking now.

“He had a sharp jawline, dark eyes, and carried himself like—like he didn’t belong to anyone’s world but his own…”

Ivy exhaled, a trace of cold satisfaction in her tone. “That’s him.”

Bianca blinked in disbelief.

“Him?” she echoed weakly.

“You mean—he’s the actual VIP guest?”

Ivy’s gaze sharpened. “Yes, Bianca. That man.”

The color drained from Bianca’s face. Her knees nearly buckled.

“Miss Harrington, I… I didn’t know. I thought—”

“What did you do with him?” Ivy interrupted, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

Bianca’s lips trembled. “I—I had security escort him out. I thought he was—”

Just then, the sharp crack of a slap split the air.

Bianca staggered, clutching her cheek as tears sprang to her eyes.

“Bring. Him. Back.” Ivy’s voice was ice wrapped around fire.

“Right now! And if you’ve caused him any trouble, pray you can still keep your job by morning.”

Bianca stumbled toward the door, pale and shaking.

She bolted down the hallway, her heels clacking frantically against the polished floor. 

Bursting through the glass doors, she spotted the guards still sneering at Donald, telling him to get lost.

“Stop!” she screamed in desperation.

Everyone in the lobby turned as Bianca skidded to a halt before Donald. 

To the shock of the guards and receptionists, Bianca's face was swollen.

She dropped to her knees right there on the marble floor.

“Mr. Smith!” she cried, her voice trembling. 

“Please forgive me. I—I was blind and foolish. I didn’t recognize your identity. It was all my fault. Please, don’t hold this mistake against me...”

The entire lobby fell silent. Even the guards, still holding Donald by the arms, looked stunned at the sight of Bianca begging on her knees.

Donald looked down at her and noticed her swollen face.

For a moment, he said nothing. 

Finally, his lips curved into a faint, cold smile.

"Get up. Your negligence could cost a lot. Learn to pay attention to details. I’ll see Miss Harrington now."

Relief washed over Bianca’s face. She scrambled to her feet, bowing repeatedly. 

“Yes, yes, of course. Please, this way.”

With every eye in the lobby glued to him, Donald followed Bianca toward the private elevator. 

The guards stepped aside in silence with guilt written on their faces. 

On the top floor, the elevator doors slid open to reveal Ivy Harrington’s personal office which was spacious, elegant, and radiating authority. 

Donald entered with squared shoulders and an unreadable expression.

Behind the mahogany desk, Ivy rose to greet him. 

The instant Donald saw her, he felt a jolt. 

Her presence was magnetic and her poise was unmatched. No wonder she was unimpressed by any of the men in Boston.

He couldn’t help but think that, in every way, she surpassed Jane, his ex-wife, in beauty and refinement.

Ivy’s eyes softened the moment they met his. 

“Mr. Smith, forgive me. You were treated poorly downstairs. That was my failure, and I sincerely apologize.”

Her gaze flicked past him, hardening on Bianca, who hovered nervously at the door. 

“Leave now."

“Yes, Ms. Harrington!” Bianca stammered, bowing before hurrying out, relieved she still had her job.

Now alone, Donald crossed the room at a steady pace. 

His voice was calm but sharp. 

“It’s nothing. I’m not so easily rattled. What I want to know…” His eyes locked onto hers. “…is what you want from me.”