The Unwanted Daughter When Love Comes Too Late novel Chapter 289

Chapter 289 The Man at the Door

Chapter 289 The Man at the Door

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As the company’s top bodyguard, Ivy knew how to fight. But no matter how skilled she was, two fists couldn’t hold off five attackers at once—especially when these men had some training of their own.

Tracy could fight back, but something about her wasn’t right. Her punches kept missing, her strength was fading fast, and Ivy was forced to cover for her.

It was getting harder to hold them back, and worry clawed at her chest.

What was going on?

Simon had changed the plan at the last minute, but Ivy had warned Tracy beforehand. She shouldn’t be caught off guard.

That moment of distraction cost her. A club smashed against her side, and before she could recover, another man raised a heavy glass ashtray high above his head, ready to bring it down on her skull.

Just as it was about to hit, Tracy threw herself forward, pulling Ivy into her arms and shielding her.

Old memories blurred into the present. Pain and fear twisted together, and for a split second Tracy couldn’t tell what was real.

But she remembered Yvonne–the one who had pulled her out of the darkness when she wanted nothing more than to die.

She had promised Yvonne she would protect Ivy, to make sure she lived a safe, happy life. She couldn’t break that promise now.

Thud!

The ashtray crashed against her back with a sickening thud. Pain seared through her, snapping her into sharper focus.

The man, frustrated by his miss, lifted the ashtray again, this time aiming for Tracy’s head.

Before it could fall, the door burst open with a deafening bang.

Bang! The thunderous noise froze everyone in place. Even the attacker stopped mid–swing.

A tall man with an air of cold authority stepped into the doorway. Light from the hall blazed

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17:38 Thu, Sep 25 ·

Chapter 289 The Man at the Door

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behind him, casting his figure in sharp contrast. Dozens of guards poured in after him, quickly overwhelming Simon and his men.

Standing in the doorway, the man looked like he had descended from the heavens. Step by step, he crossed the room toward Tracy.

The blow from the ashtray had shaken some sense back into her.

She blinked up at him, dazed, her heart pounding so hard it felt like a drum beating inside her

chest.

This man…

He reached her, bent down, and gently helped her to her feet. Concern flickered in his eyes. “Are you hurt? Are you still with me?”

Are you still with me?

That deep, magnetic voice struck her like another hammer against her heart, making her whole body tremble.

Tracy stared at the man in front of her, her eyes moving carefully from his brows to his nose, then down to his lips, as if she were trying to uncover some hidden truth from his face.

But what was she searching for?

Why did he feel so familiar?

Confusion, fear, helplessness–her emotions tangled and surged, threatening to drown the fragile clarity she had just regained.

The man suddenly reached out and touched her forehead, his sharp brows furrowing. “Did the shock leave you speechless?”

When Tracy still didn’t respond, he let out a quiet sigh and extended his hand to her. “Don’t be scared. I got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He sounded helpless. The icy, untouchable aura around him melted away, replaced by a warmth so unexpected that it was almost disarming,

The cold, flawless figure now softened, and the change carried a kind of allure that was nearly irresistible.

But as he moved to draw her into his arms, Tracy instinctively stepped back.

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