THE RETURN OF THE HIDDEN HEIR

Chapter 007: Married Foe

The clerk stamped the document with a sound of finality.

Derrick watched the red seal settle onto the paper, his name and Ivy's bound together in clean, official lines. Marriage certificate–a document that seemed to carry more weight than some of the troubles he'd encountered in life.

Ivy stood beside him, arms crossed, and jaw set tight. She hadn't uttered a single word since they were ushered into the government office under her grandfather's personal supervision. No ceremony or celebration, just signatures, witnesses, and an unspoken understanding that refusal was no longer an option.

When they stepped outside, the noise of the city rushed back in–car horns, distant sirens, and footsteps echoing along the pavement. Life seemed to have continued, indifferent to what had just happened inside the clerk's office.

Ivy exhaled sharply. "So," she said, not looking at him, "congratulations Ivy. You're officially trapped."

Derrick let out a short breath that could have been taken for a laugh. "Funny. I was thinking the same about myself."

She finally glanced at him with sharp but tired eyes. Whatever fury she'd carried earlier cooled into something heavier–absolute resentment mixed with a tinge of hate. Before either of them could say more, a voice familiar to Ivy cut through the air.

"Oh my God. Ivy?"

They both turned.

Dora stood just a few steps away, sunglasses perched on her head, and expression caught between shock and curiosity. She looked from Ivy to Derrick, then back again, her lips slowly curling into an amused smile.

"No way. Don't tell me your family actually went through with it."

Ivy grimaced. "Unfortunately."

For a brief moment, Dora's gaze lingered on Derrick. "Wow. You must be something special, aren't you?"

Her tone was friendly, but beneath it was something darker.

Ivy sensed it. "Dora," she said, "don't."

"Oh, relax," Dora replied, waving a hand. "I'm just surprised, you know. Your grandfather usually treats marriage like a corporate merger."

She stepped closer, flashing Derick a smile that looked friendly. "Since we're already breaking traditions today, why don't we celebrate? There's a club we always go to. I'd love you to come."

Ivy frowned.

"It's gonna be fun," Dora continued, turning her eyes back to her friend as she added in a low tone, "Might as well see what kind of man you married."

Derrick hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "Sure. We'd be there."

Ivy shot him a look. "You both didn't even introduce yourselves to each other."

"That doesn't really matter, does it?" Dora replied, her smile lingering as she chuckled. "He's your hubby, not mine."

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The club sat at the heart of downtown like a polished jewel. Glass façade glowed under carefully positioned lights, and luxury cars lined patiently with idling engines. Every detail screamed exclusivity.

Dora linked her arm through Ivy's as she headed inside without slowing. Ivy followed, heels clinking against marble steps.

When Derrick got to the exact door he watched the ladies pass through, a uniformed security guard stepped in front of him, one hand raised.

"Membership card."

Derrick paused. "I'm with the ladies that just passed now."

The guard glanced past him at Ivy's retreating figure, then back, with an unimpressed expression. "Drivers and bodyguards use the side entrance."

"I'm not a–" Derrick stopped himself, then continued calmly, "I'm her husband."

The guard's expression didn't change a bit. "Sir, if you don't have a card, you're not getting in."

Derrick looked at the door, then at the guard. He'd only been in New York a short while, but long enough to understand that status here wasn't announced–it was assumed. And right now, they took him as one that belonged outside.

Stepping aside, he pulled out his phone.

Dominic answered on the second ring. "Sir."

"I'm at a club," Derrick said. "They're asking for a membership card of some sort."

There was a brief pause on the other end. Then Dominic asked. "What's the name, sir?"

Derrick read the name off the sign.

Another shorter pause. "That belongs to your family, sir."

Derrick frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The Morgan's," Dominic replied. "You don't need a card. Just walk in. The system recognizes you."

"I see," Derrick muttered, ending the call.

He slipped his phone into his pocket and turned back toward the entrance.

"Sir," the guard warned, stepping forward and putting out his hand, "don't make this difficult."

Derrick didn't utter a word. He simply kept walking.

The guard swiftly reached for his walkie talkie as he charged for the next action. But he froze as the glass doors slid open on their own, silent and smooth, sensors activating as Derrick crossed the threshold.

Lights inside subtly shifted, and a soft chime sounded. Derrick walked in without breaking stride.

Behind him, the guard stared at the open doorway, shock flickering across his face. He hadn't seen such a ‘glitch’ throughout all his years as the club head bouncer.

After a breath, he lifted the walkie-talkie with a trembling hand.

"Control. This is front entrance."

A beat of static crackled back. "Go ahead."

He hesitated, his eyes still fixed on the doors that had already slid shut, lights returning to normal as if nothing unusual had happened.

"We just had an...automatic access event."

"Clarify.”

"Male guest. No visible card. System override engaged on proximity, and doors opened without manual authorization."

A pause. "Did he scan?"

"Not visibly."

"Any visible system glitch? "

The guard exhaled slowly. "Not at all. The system responded before I could intervene."

Static hummed softly, and the guard knew that somewhere in the electronic control room, someone was checking a screen.

A few seconds passed before the walkie crackled again.

"We've identified the access protocol."

The guard straightened instinctively. "Copy. What happened?"

"That wasn't a glitch. The system didn't override itself. It recognized him."

The guard's grip tightened on the walkie-talkie. "Recognized him? What do you mean?"

"There are only a handful of individuals whose identity alone grants automatic entry. Listen. Just maintain position. Do not engage as you await further instructions."

The guard nodded. "Understood."

He hesitated, then asked. "Who was he? Someone important?"

The response came almost immediately. "You can bet he is."

"How important?" the guard pressed.

Static crackled twice, then the voice at the other end answered, "If we had to classify him, he would outrank every dignitary currently inside the building."

The line went dead.