The Hidden Dragon Son-in-Law

You're Not Supposed to Have That Card

Chapter 2: “You’re Not Supposed to Have That Card”

Thirty minutes after storming out of the Lin family mansion, Jaxon sat in the backseat of a sleek black Phantom, eyes focused on the velvet-lined box in his lap.

Inside it gleamed a jet-black titanium card, its edges rimmed with gold.

The Ghost Monarch Emblem.

A symbol of absolute power in the underground world — only one person held it.

And that person… was him.

“Sir,” the driver said, adjusting the mirror nervously. “The Ninth Pavilion awaits your first directive in three years. Shall I inform Commander Zhao?”

“No,” Jaxon said flatly. “Let them wonder. Let them tremble first.”

He slipped the card into his wallet and shut the box, a storm brewing behind his calm face. Three years ago, he'd sealed his identity and vanished into a fake marriage for a mission — but now the silence had been broken.

It was time to take back what was his.

—

Back at the Lin household, Ivy paced the length of her bedroom, phone in hand. The text still glowed on the screen:

Young Madam Lin, we await your orders at the Ninth Pavilion.

Her breath quickened.

Who the hell was her husband?

A knock at the door startled her.

It was her cousin, Aria, with a smug smirk. “Ivy, dress nicely. Grandpa’s taking us to the Zenith Tower Lounge tonight. Big family dinner. But let’s be real — you probably can’t afford the valet f*e, right?”

Ivy ignored her, her eyes still on the phone.

“You’re really still thinking about that loser?” Aria laughed. “I heard he got into a random car just to act rich. Probably Uber Black.”

Ivy’s lips parted, but she said nothing.

She had questions — but something told her they’d be answered soon.

—

Hours later, in the golden-lit Zenith Tower Lounge — the most exclusive penthouse in the city — the Lin family gathered.

Even Ivy’s grandfather, Chairman Lin, was there, seated at the center in a custom-tailored suit.

The staff bowed respectfully. “Chairman Lin, your VIP suite is prepared.”

As they were led upstairs, Aria couldn’t stop talking. “Did you guys hear? Ethan Xu is hosting a client upstairs. His net worth doubled last quarter. Real elite class.”

Suddenly, Ivy’s uncle clapped loudly. “Speak of the devil!”

At the entrance to the VIP deck stood Ethan Xu — tall, sleek suit, Rolex glinting on his wrist — and at his side…

Jaxon.

In a sharp charcoal suit, hair slicked back, expression cool.

Ivy blinked. Her throat tightened.

He looked like a completely different man.

Confident. Sharp. Dangerous.

“J-Jaxon?!” Aunt Mei gasped. “What are you doing here?!”

Jaxon’s gaze swept across them like ice.

Ethan chuckled. “Chairman Lin, I didn’t know your family was dining here. Allow me to treat you tonight.”

Chairman Lin smiled thinly. “Mr. Xu, how generous. And this young man?”

Ethan smirked. “Oh, just someone I hired earlier today. A... personal assistant. He was outside, looking lost.”

The room laughed.

Jaxon tilted his head slightly. “Is that what you think?”

Ethan’s smirk froze. “Excuse me?”

Jaxon reached into his coat pocket — and slowly withdrew the black titanium card.

The waiter attending to the Xu party gasped audibly. “S-Sir, I didn’t realize you were a Ghost Monarch Cardholder—!”

Every sound in the room halted.

Chairman Lin stood up.

Even the club manager rushed forward, bowing at Jaxon’s feet. “Honored Patron, we deeply apologize for the oversight. Your private Sky Lounge is ready — we didn’t expect you tonight.”

Ethan staggered back. “That… that card is fake.”

The club manager paled. “Fake? Sir, I’ve verified it. There’s only one card like this in the entire eastern province.”

All eyes turned to Jaxon.

He stepped forward, his voice calm but lethal. “Ethan Xu… you dared call me your assistant?”

Ethan’s lips parted. No words came out.

Then Jaxon turned to the Lin family. “Tonight, you sit in my lounge. Not his.”

Gasps echoed. Even Ivy froze in place.

He turned toward her, eyes locking. “Shall we, wife?”

She felt her knees buckle slightly.

As the family stumbled after him, too stunned to object, Ethan stood alone, face white, fists clenched.

He had just mocked a man who could ruin him with one phone call.

And Jaxon knew it.

Back in the car after the dinner, Jaxon’s phone buzzed with a new encrypted message:

🕷 “Target: Ethan Xu. Intercept at Dock 17. 12 hours.”

His smile turned cold.

Tonight was just a warm-up.

Tomorrow… someone would beg for mercy.