His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 288: The Father Returns

Iris watched the bodyguard hurry away, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. Something felt wrong—deeply wrong.

She wrapped up her acceptance speech as quickly as she could, collected her award and certificate, and made her exit without looking back. She skipped the press line and the post-ceremony reception, heading straight for her car. All she could think about was getting to the preschool.

The moment she lifted Harper into her arms, Iris finally let herself breathe.

She settled her daughter into the car seat in the back and carefully fastened the buckle.

"Mommy, it's still sunny outside," Harper chirped, grinning. "How come you're here so early?"

Iris stroked her soft cheek and smiled gently. "Because I missed you, sweetheart."

"I missed you too, Mommy!" Harper's eyes crinkled into happy little crescents, her voice warm and bright.

"Let's get going, okay?" Iris shut the back door and circled around to the driver's side.

Suddenly, two men in dark suits emerged. One stepped smoothly in front of her car door, the other moved behind her, blocking her path.

"Ms. Whitlow," the one in front said evenly. "Thanks for leading the way."

Iris tensed, her guard up immediately. "What is this? It's broad daylight."

Just then, the door of a black luxury sedan parked nearby opened, and a bodyguard stepped out, holding it ajar.

Julian emerged and walked right toward her.

Iris' pulse quickened.

Three years hadn't changed his face much, but his eyes were colder now, distant in a way she didn't remember.

To her disbelief, he walked straight past her without a word or a glance.

Panic shot through her. "Julian—what are you doing?"

The two men pressed her firmly against the side of the car, holding her in place. She struggled, but couldn't break free.

Julian opened the back door and slid into the seat beside Harper.

Harper looked up at him, curious. "Who're you?"

For the first time in three years, a real, gentle smile touched Julian's face as he looked at the little girl. His voice was softer than Iris had ever heard it. "I'm your daddy."

"Daddy?" Harper's big eyes widened. She covered her mouth with both hands, then peeked through her fingers. "Wow... you look just like the picture Mommy showed me. You really are my daddy!"

Julian reached over and gently brushed her cheek. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"I'm Harper."

"Harper," he said quietly. "Want to come home with me?"

"Whose home?"

"My home."

"But what about Mommy?" Harper asked, her smile fading a little.

In one smooth motion, Julian unfastened her car seat buckle, gathered her into his arms, and stepped out of the car. He shifted her gently so she was facing away from Iris. "Mommy's busy right now," he told her calmly. "When she's done, she'll come pick you up from my place, okay?"

Iris was still pinned against the car, a hand clamped over her mouth. She fought helplessly, her screams muffled.

She could only watch as Julian carried Harper to his waiting sedan and got inside.

From beginning to end, he never once looked at Iris. He didn't speak to her, didn't acknowledge her. He just took their daughter, right in front of her, and drove away.

It wasn't until Julian's car had vanished down the tree-lined street that the bodyguards finally released her. They wordlessly got into a second car and followed after him.

Iris stood there shaking, anger and fear twisting inside her. She knew Julian wouldn't hurt Harper—but this was her daughter. The child she'd carried for nine months, the one she'd raised on her own for three years.

It wasn't that she wanted to keep them apart. But to take her like this—in plain daylight, using force and deception—it was cruel. It was low.

Feeling lost and desperate, Iris pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

The sun had begun to set, washing the sky in shades of orange and pink, by the time Iris walked out of the police station. She clutched a slip of paper in her hand, the officer's words still ringing in her ears.

"We reached out to him, Ms. Whitlow. But he's the child's father, and he's... well, he's got considerable influence. These kinds of family matters—we really can't get in the middle. Here's his contact information. Your best bet is to try to work this out directly with him."

Iris stared down at the number written on the paper. It wasn't entirely unfamiliar, but after three years, she had deliberately let it fade from memory.

She walked across the street to a small neighborhood park and sank onto an empty bench. Taking a shaky breath, she entered the number and pressed call.

The line rang and rang. No one answered.

Harper had never spent a night away from her since the day she was born. Was she crying for her mom right now? Was she scared?

Iris called again.

This time, after several rings, the call connected. A cool, detached voice came through. "Yes?"

Hearing Julian's voice after all this time sent an unexpected jolt through her—a quick, painful skip of her heart before it began to race.

She steadied herself, keeping her tone calm and measured. "Where is Harper?"

Silence hung between them.

This wasn't like most reunions—no greetings, no polite catch-ups, no heated outbursts. This quiet, ice-cold start was worse than any argument.

It was like speaking to a stranger.

Iris exhaled softly. "It's getting dark. Harper gets anxious when I'm not there at bedtime."

"The Edulet Grand," he replied flatly, then ended the call.

His tone left her heart heavy, sinking like a stone.

She slowly lowered the phone, stood up on unsteady legs, and drove straight to the Edulet Grand Hotel.

Night had fully fallen by the time she pulled up under the hotel's gleaming portico.

As soon as she stepped into the marble lobby, two suited bodyguards approached and escorted her silently to the presidential suite.

The door opened, and Iris rushed inside. "Harper!"

There, in the spacious living room, Harper was sitting cross-legged on a plush rug beside Julian, happily stacking colorful blocks, completely at ease.