Once Downtrodden; Now Divine

Chapter 7

That night, Jaxon and Jane arrived at Liverpool Hotel, the venue for the charity gala.

Several important guests arrived in luxury cars that stretched down the block, each disembarking in finely tailored suits and gowns worth more than most people's yearly salaries.

Every major family in Boston had sent representatives, and rumors swirled that Ivy would announce new partnerships that could reshape the balance of power.

As soon as Jaxon and Jane entered, eyes turned.

"Look—it's Jaxon Brown and Jane Wilson," someone whispered from behind a champagne glass.

"I heard they might formalize their engagement tonight."

"If Jane manages to tie herself to the Browns, her family would be more rich and influential."

The two had become the talk of Boston lately, and rumors of their engagement filled the tabloids and gossip circles.

Ever since Donald's scandal two years ago when he was accused of rape, no one thought he and Jane were a match anymore.

In the eyes of society, it was only natural, even inevitable, that Jane would seek someone else, someone powerful enough to match her family's standing.

Jane leaned closer to Jaxon, her face glowing with pride at the attention as she clutched his arm.

"Thank you again, Jaxon," she said sweetly, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

"If I can truly meet Ivy Harrington tonight… if I can just secure her cooperation, then my family will rise higher than ever. You don't know how much this means to me."

Jaxon forced a polite smile, though inwardly he was growing weary.

Her endless excitement and lack of subtlety grated on him.

"We'll discuss that after we secure a partnership," he replied flatly, scanning the room rather than meeting her eyes.

Jane, oblivious to his indifference, nodded eagerly and clung tighter to his arm.

As they ascended the red-carpeted staircase toward the ballroom doors, Jane's gaze swept the crowd—and froze.

Her breath hitched, and disbelief twisted across her face.

There, only a few steps away, walking with composed confidence, was Donald.

He didn't look like the same Donald she had always known. This time, he wore a custom-tailored suit and his posture was commanding.

His tall, broad-shouldered frame filled the suit perfectly, exuding quiet authority. His neatly styled hair, his calm gaze, and the way he carried himself drew eyes toward him.

For a moment, Jane thought her eyes were deceiving her. But no, everything about him confirmed it was Donald.

Her breath caught.

How… how did he end up here? she wondered, her gaze instinctively sweeping over him from head to toe.

And that suit… where on earth did he get something like that? It looked expensive, the kind of suit tailored for old money and power, not for the man she believed was a failure!

Jane's heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest.

How could this be the same Donald she knew?

"Jaxon," she hissed, tugging at his arm, "Wait here—I need to deal with that loser first."

Before Jaxon could protest, Jane broke away and strode straight toward Donald, her heels clicking sharply against the marble.

"Donald!" she snapped.

Donald paused mid-step, glancing at her with mild surprise.

Jane's face twisted with anger.

"Haven't you had enough?" she snapped. "You followed me to DeGrand Corporation this morning, and now you show up here too? Why can't you just give up already?!"

Donald blinked, slightly amused by her sudden outburst.

Jane's fingers suddenly shot forward, clutching the lapel of his blazer.

"Where did you even get this?" she hissed.

"Do you think you can just throw on a knockoff and fool people here?"

Donald's gaze dropped to her hand, his expression cold and unreadable.

With a flick of his wrist, he shook her off effortlessly.

"Careful," he said coolly, brushing the spot where she'd grabbed him. "You might wrinkle something worth more than you'll ever make in your lifetime."

Jane froze and color flooded her cheeks.

"You loser! We both know you can't afford it. Did you just forget to return it after playing chauffeur for some rich folk?"

Donald merely let out a contemptuous snort. "Is it really that hard for you to comprehend that I own this blazer?"

Upon hearing this, Jane let out a short, mocking laugh, loud enough for those around to hear.

"Please. The divorce agreement stripped you bare. You could barely scrape enough to cover your rent, yet you expect me to believe you bought this suit?"

Donald's lips curled faintly.

"Who said I bought it myself when it could just be a gift."

Jane narrowed her eyes.

"Wow, so you're telling me someone was willing to buy a suit this expensive for an ex-con like you? Go ahead, tell me who it is."

Donald sighed, shaking his head. "Ivy Harrington."

Jane stared at Donald for a moment, then burst into loud laughter.

"You really don't know when to stop humiliating yourself, do you? Ivy's league is galaxies above yours, Donald. She wouldn't even give you a glimpse."

"How desperate can you get? Go on, then. Tell us another story."

"You're coming to Miss Harrington's charity gala now, and you want to say that you're not here to follow me, but rather came because you accepted her invitation?"

Donald looked her dead in the eye.

"Yes. Ivy gave an invitation to me. And that's the part you'll never get over."

Jane stared at him for a beat, then burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she bent over.

"Oh, this is rich! You're really going insane!"

"Show me, then! Show me this so-called invitation!"

Without hesitation, Donald pulled out a sleek black envelope with the golden phoenix crest stamped on its surface.

The VVIP invitation gleamed under the chandelier lights.

A murmur rippled through the nearby guests — a few even leaned closer, eyes widening in recognition. They'd seen that crest before. Only the most powerful received those.

But while the crowd's tone shifted from mockery to stunned curiosity, Ivy's lips merely curved, skeptical, and faintly amused, as if the entire room had fallen for an illusion she could already see through.

Jane blinked, then threw her head back and laughed even harder.

"My god, you didn't even bother comparing your forgery with the real thing, did you? Look!"

She dragged Jaxon over, her hand trembling from laughter, as she proudly held up their regular invitation.

Made of ivory, with a white, standard design. While equally luxurious, it pales in comparison.

"This is the real deal, issued directly by the Harrington family. See the difference? Yours is too garish and obviously fake—pitifully fake!"

Donald's patience thinned.

"You're truly pathetic, Jane. I won't waste another second on you," he said coldly, then tucked away the invitation and strode directly toward the gala entrance without sparing her another glance.

Seeing this, Jane suddenly felt a flash of panic.

Why was Donald so confident? If his invitation was fake, he would never risk humiliating himself in front of security—he'd slink away in shame instead!

But judging by the current situation, his invitation seemed genuine. Could he really be one of the so-called VVIP guests?

Jane swallowed hard. Donald's words from the prison visiting room echoed in her mind.

"You'll regret this. You have no idea what you've thrown away."

Could it be... could it be... She stared fixedly at Donald's retreating back, the panic in her heart growing larger and larger, until it became a massive shadow covering all her thoughts.

But in the next instant, that shadow crumbled to dust.

The security guard at the entrance contemptuously threw Donald's golden invitation onto the ground, his tone arrogant: "I've never seen this style of invitation before. Which cheap knockoff shop did you get this forgery from?"

"You trying to sneak into Miss Harrington's charity gala?!"

In that instant, Donald froze.

The next moment, his expression turned completely dark. Without a word, he picked up the invitation, dusted it off, and fixed the security guard with an icy stare.

"Well done. Miss Harrington will hear about your dedication very soon."

The guard laughed in disbelief. He'd never imagined this trash trying to sneak in would have the audacity to threaten him instead of slinking away.

He was about to forcibly remove Donald when he noticed another guest—a dazzling woman in heels, arm-in-arm with an elegantly dressed man—approaching Donald. She began mocking him loudly.

"Drop the act! Donald, how long are you going to keep this up? Why won't you just admit you came here to beg me to take you back?"

Jane looked Donald up and down with a cold smirk. "Fine, I'll give you what you want. If you're willing to work as Jason's servant in his mansion—waiting on him and me every single day—then I suppose I could keep you around."

Donald's patience finally ran out.

He slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed swiftly.

"Bianca," Donald said coolly when the voice answered.

"Please pass on my message immediately. Tell Miss Harrington to revoke the entry privileges of Jaxon Brown and Jane Wilson."

Gasps erupted.

Jane and Jaxon looked at each other, then burst into derisive laughter.

"Sir, madam, I won't let this shameless loser bother you any longer. I'll get rid of him right now!"

The guard strutted over to Donald, ready to forcibly throw this lunatic out.

But just as Donald braced himself, Jaxon raised a hand, signaling the guard to stop.

His tone dripped with mockery. "No need. I'd actually love to see what else this idiot can pull off. You know—a convicted felon pretending to know Miss Harrington's secretary? I haven't seen a show this entertaining in ages."

The guard laughed heartily. "As you wish, sir."

Donald hung up, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He met their mocking gazes with a faint, cold smile.

"Why don't we see who can actually enter the gala?"

Jane sneered. "Gladly."

Just then, the head of security stepped out from the ballroom door. His voice carried firmly:

"Attention, everyone. The guest list has been updated. All attendees must now verify their identities against the list before entry—regardless of whether they already hold invitations. This adjustment was made after we noticed certain irregularities on-site."

Jane and Jaxon exchanged knowing looks and smirked in satisfaction.

"See?" Jane whispered smugly.

"They must've noticed something suspicious—and it's all thanks to that ridiculous scene you just caused, Donald!"

Jaxon folded his arms, smirking. "It's over for you, loser. Be smart and save yourself the humiliation. Get lost before security drags you out again."

Donald stood motionless for a beat.

Then, without a word, he began walking toward the head of security.

Jane blinked, then burst into laughter so loud a few heads turned.

"Oh, this is gold! He's actually going up there! He's completely lost it—he's about to humiliate himself all over again!"

Jaxon smirked, lips curling. "Let him go. I'm really enjoying watching him make a fool of himself!"

Donald didn't even glance at them. He adjusted his cufflinks and walked straight to the head of security with the same composure one might have when walking into his own home.

Everyone nearby turned to watch with curiosity and amusement flickering across their faces.

Donald's steady footsteps echoed sharply against the marble floor as he approached the security captain.

He handed over his VVIP invitation without hesitation.

The captain scanned the code on the invitation.

The small beep from the device echoed louder than it should have. He frowned slightly, then his entire posture changed.

He straightened immediately, eyes snapping up to Donald with sudden alertness.

His voice came out firm and respectful.

"Mr. Smith… welcome. We've been expecting you."