Once Downtrodden; Now Divine

Chapter 6

Before they left, Ivy handed Donald an ultra-luxurious suit.

The midnight black blazer was a masterpiece from Aurelius Atelier—extravagantly expensive, exuding prestige without ostentation.

Donald frowned slightly. "This is far too extravagant, even for you. I don't need this—what I'm wearing is fine."

But Ivy merely responded with respectful firmness.

"This isn't about need, Mr. Smith. It's about ensuring no Tom, Dick, or Harry thinks they can look down on you in my presence."

"Fair point." Donald paused, then nodded. His time with Jane had nearly conditioned him to habits of thrift and simplicity. For the moment, he hadn't fully adjusted to his change in status.

Ivy reached up and draped the blazer over his shoulders.

But the next moment, her breath caught.

The cut of the suit accentuated his tall frame and broad shoulders, instantly transforming him into someone completely different.

Moreover, he wore the ultra-luxurious garment without the slightest hint of self-consciousness or awkwardness, as if he'd been born into elegance.

This man is definitely no ordinary person. He most likely comes from an elite family.

Ivy's expression subtly shifted. She realized she might have underestimated Donald.

Before long, they were seated together in the back of her sleek black sedan, riding toward the glittering heart of Boston's business district.

Reaching into her clutch, Ivy pulled out a slim black envelope without hesitation and handed it to him with a knowing smile.

"Mr. Smith, this is your invitation for tonight."

Donald raised his eyebrows. His gaze lingered on Ivy for a moment before he took the envelope, his fingers brushing over the raised gold seal.

"A VVIP invitation," he said softly. "Actually, a standard invitation would've been enough. I just need to get in."

Ivy's lips curved into a faint, amused smile.

"For regular folks, just getting into the banquet is what matters most," she replied smoothly.

"But for someone like you—an honored guest personally selected by my father—a VVIP invitation is essential. After all, it's the best I can provide that befits your status."

"I'm very glad you'll be standing beside me tonight, Mr. Smith."

Donald couldn't help the slight arch of his brow.

Though she was hosting him only because her father had asked her to, she did it too well, making him perhaps too comfortable.

Besides, he'd met countless women in his life, but none who wielded beauty like a weapon the way Ivy Harrington did.

He had once thought Jane was the kind of woman who could captivate a room; yet beside Ivy, Jane's charm felt shallow—all glitter and no depth.

Just then, the car jolted violently.

The driver cursed under his breath, quickly maneuvering to the side.

"Flat tire, Miss Harrington."

Before he could step out, another vehicle screeched across the lane, blocking them from the front.

Almost immediately, a third car slid in behind them, sealing their escape route.

Ivy stiffened, her eyes flashing cold.

"What the hell is this?" she murmured under her breath.

Just then, the doors of the surrounding cars burst open, and a dozen rough-looking men emerged, baseball bats and knives glinting in their hands.

Their leader, a broad man with a scar across his cheek, banged on the driver's window.

"Miss," he drawled, "our boss wants to see you. Come quietly, and we won't have to make this messy."

Ivy's face went hard as the armed men closed in, circling the car like vultures.

She lowered her sunglasses slowly, calm as ice.

"Who sent you? Do you even know whose car you've stopped?"

A thug grinned and swaggered toward the window. "Doesn't matter who you are, Miss. You're coming with us! Make it easy and nobody gets hurt."

Something like a sneer ghosted across her mouth.

"Hurt me?" she echoed.

"Are you new to Boston, or are you one of those people who are targeting me?"

Her jaw tightened. "No matter who you are, people who threaten a Harrington don't live long enough to regret it!"

The words landed and the men blinked, unsettled for a beat—but they'd been trained to face anything, even an icy young woman.

"Big words!" one of them snarled. "Let's see how loud you shout when we take you to our boss."

He nodded to his men, and one of them suddenly reached inside his jacket.

Ivy's sharp eyes caught the motion instantly—she saw the glint of a gun before it was even raised.

In one fluid movement, her hand slipped into her clutch and her fingers curled around the cold metal of her pistol.

"Enough!" she said icily, drawing her weapon halfway.

"If you think you can drag me anywhere, you're welcome to try. But I guarantee only one of us will walk away from this road!"

The thugs burst into cruel laughter. Of course—a Harrington without a guard was an easy mark.

"She's bluffing! Take her!" the man with the gun barked.

But then, a voice split the air.

"You'd be wiser to walk away."

They turned to see a young man yank the car door open and step out. He stood tall and calm but imposing, his eyes unreadable.

"Now!" Donald barked.

"Before I decide none of you live to regret this!"

The gangsters burst into ugly laughter.

"Who is this clown?" the scarred leader spat, sneering.

"Some pretty boy in a suit? Get him!"

The first thug charged at Donald with a baseball bat raised high.

Donald moved fast—too fast for anyone to follow.

He caught the man's wrist mid-swing and twisted it sharply.

A sickening crack followed, and the bat fell to the ground. Before the thug could even scream, Donald snatched up the bat and swung it back, slamming it into his attacker's ribs.

The man dropped like a stone.

Another man came at him with a knife, yelling.

Donald ducked low, sidestepped, and drove his elbow into the thug's jaw.

The man spun backward and hit the pavement hard, blood spilling from his mouth.

Two more rushed in at once, trying to pin him, but Donald kicked one in the stomach, sending him crashing into the other.

Then he spun and slammed the bat across the second thug's shoulder with a dull thud. Both went down groaning.

Ivy, still standing by the car, couldn't look away.

Her hand froze around her clutch, her eyes wide with shock and awe.

He was single-handedly fighting off a dozen men.

Every move he made was clean, controlled, and brutal.

That kind of strength was rare.

For the first time, Ivy understood why her father had spoken so highly of him.

When the last thug stumbled to his feet and tried to run, Donald reached out, grabbed him by the collar, and threw him against the car hood.

The man slid down, moaning, clutching his arm.

In less than five minutes, they were all on the ground, bruised and moaning in pain.

Donald seized the scarred leader by the collar and yanked him upright.

"Who sent you?" he growled.

The man spat blood, glaring defiantly.

"You really think I'd tell you that?" he spat, trying to sound tough even as blood dripped from his mouth.

Donald's eyes hardened and his grip tightened until the man's face twisted in pain.

"Last chance!" he said coldly.

Panic flickered through the thug's eyes as sweat mixed with the dirt on his face.

Finally, his defiance cracked.

"I-It was Derek Lewis!" he stammered. "The Lewis family patriarch! He said Miss Harrington needed to be... taught a lesson!"

Donald dropped him to the ground with disgust.

The man scrambled away, dragging his injured companions with him.

Ivy stepped out of the car at last, looking around at the defeated gangsters, then back at Donald.

Her tone turned sharp and commanding: "The Lewis family's influence is far beneath the Harringtons'. They never dared cross me before. For them to make such a bold move now—they must know the Harringtons are facing difficulties."

"Or worse—they're working for my enemies."

Donald walked over to Ivy's side, his gaze sweeping across the retreating gang members. He'd been about to ask who her enemies were, but decided it would be better to wait until she was ready to tell him herself.

Just then, he felt Ivy's fingers brush against his hand. He turned to see her smiling warmly at him.

"Thank you for saving my life, Mr. Smith. With you here, tonight's challenges might not be so difficult after all."

In that instant, his breath caught.

The way she looked at him sent ripples through his body.

Her beauty was sharp and refined, like glass sculpted by fire.

"It was nothing." He spoke with forced composure, "Let's move on."

Once the driver replaced the tire and the road was cleared, the car continued its journey.

Inside the car, Ivy leaned slightly toward him and said softly,

"When we arrive at the venue, I'll need to circulate among the guests first. Many of them are potential partners, and I must maintain appearances.

During that time, you may observe quietly.

Watch their expressions, their alliances, the way they speak to me and to each other. Then, when the time comes to choose whom I should ally with, I'll call you over."

Donald nodded.

"Understood."