Having portals made things exponentially easier.
Corey opened a slightly larger gateway, allowing Uncle Ben to reverse the car directly into their own garage.
In New York, couples needed to obtain a marriage license first, wait at least twenty-four hours before holding the ceremony, hire an officiant for the wedding, and sign the official filing documents together.
Only after the officiant successfully registered the wedding would the marriage officially take effect.
New York State law also stipulated that after obtaining the license, the wedding had to be held and registered within two months.
So the two families agreed to let the young couple get their marriage license in mid-August.
Once everything was settled, Corey opened a portal and brought the Parker family back to New York, under Gwyneth’s reluctant, longing gaze.
There was no helping it—his father-in-law, Henry, was guarding against Corey like a hawk.
Corey wasn’t in that much of a rush himself, but Henry could tell Gwyneth was totally smitten and practically ready to dive in headfirst.
Unable to vent his frustration at his sweet daughter, Henry took it all out on Corey instead.
Besides, Gwyneth had school the next day.
Since she was out in the suburbs now, she would have to get up early to reach campus.
They agreed that Corey would come pick her up tomorrow morning, which finally settled things.
Charles and Aunt Tina returned to New York along with the Parker family.
Aunt Tina and Aunt May took Peter off to get bathed, while Charles turned his attention to Corey.
Uncle Ben glanced at Charles, shrugged, and walked off to the living room.
He didn’t care much for politics, plus his TV series wasn’t finished yet.
Corey led Charles into the study, invited him to sit, and brewed a cup of coffee.
Charles took a sip, set the cup down, and got straight to the point.
Charles was thirty-five years old and a member of the New York State Senate, primarily dealing with state taxes, budgets, and appropriations.
He was currently a core rising figure in the New York State Democratic Party—young, energetic, and well-liked within party ranks.
It was too late for this year, but time moved fast.
By next January, the Senate Temporary President—who held the real power in New York State, as the position belonged exclusively to the leader of the majority party—would inevitably evaluate the performance of various committee chairs and consider reappointments or replacements.
When Charles was thirty, the Dyson family had backed him into his Senate seat.
Five years in a Senate seat was getting a bit long.
The Dyson family’s original plan was for Charles to stay steady for a few more years, then look for an opportunity to make a double leap straight into the position of State Comptroller, bypassing lower Senate infighting to reach higher ground.
That approach relied entirely on the Dyson family’s own clout to propel a single person forward.
Party support existed, but the party was filled with other young, ambitious figures like Charles who possessed senior credentials, deeper connections, and stronger polling numbers than he did.
No matter how hard Charles worked, he would be stuck for at least another three to seven years.
Realistically, even making State Comptroller before fifty would be a massive achievement—and that was assuming maximum effort from the Dyson family.
To be honest, under normal circumstances, Charles would have played it safe in his Senate seat, biding his time for an opening.
Now, Corey gave him another choice.
Charles’s expertise lay in state fiscal management, and the Dyson family could ensure that any results he delivered wouldn’t be stolen by political rivals.
Meanwhile, Corey was a shareholder in Stark Industries and on excellent personal terms with Tony Stark.
To an extent, Corey could even influence certain commercial directions of Stark Industries.
This presented Charles with a massive opportunity: he wanted to secure the chairmanship of the Senate Finance Committee next January, at age thirty-six.
After serving two years there, he could push even higher.
A thirty-eight-year-old State Comptroller with solid accomplishments would be positioned perfectly for promotion.
As long as he avoided major missteps, he could comfortably aim for the governorship by forty.
That would put Charles squarely in the elite tier of young, rising political stars with limitless potential.
Beyond that was the federal level.
The Dyson family’s reach didn’t quite extend that far, and Charles’s plans hadn’t expanded to federal politics yet.
But now there was hope—Corey.
Which meant anyone standing in the way of Corey marrying Gwyneth was now Charles’s sworn enemy; he was determined to keep this couple glued together forever.
“I understand what you mean, Uncle Charles,” Corey said.
“I’ll talk to Tony privately about investment opportunities, but I can’t offer an absolute guarantee.
As you know, my relationship with Tony is personal.
Although I hold shares in Stark Industries, I don’t interfere much in their investment strategies.
Whether new energy can expand in New York State depends on the state’s sincerity and whether it truly fits Stark Industries’ growth strategy.
That’s not something I can dictate.
Tony Stark’s business instincts have always been spot on—he knows business far better than I do.” Charles flushed with excitement and took a quick gulp of his coffee—personal ties were precisely what he wanted!
If this were pushed through the Stark Industries board of directors, too many people would fight for a slice of the pie.
But if it went through Corey’s personal relationship with Tony, even a single designated investment landing in New York State would count entirely as Charles’s accomplishment.
That achievement alone would comfortably secure him the chairmanship of the Senate Finance Committee next January.
Charles set down his cup, stood up, and extended his right hand.
“Handle it however you see fit, Corey.
When you have time, bring Peter over to visit.
Your Aunt Tina is always talking about you, and you haven’t visited the Dyson home in a long while.
Your cousin is around Peter’s age, so it’d be great for them to meet and become playmates.” Corey shook Charles’s hand and agreed with a smile.
With the hour growing late, they wrapped up the conversation and stepped out of the study together.
Charles and Aunt Tina then bade their farewells.
Aunt Tina brought up the invitation again, and Corey nodded repeatedly, promising to bring Gwyneth and Peter over next weekend.
Elevating Charles’s position wouldn’t boost Corey’s personal power directly, but it offered immense protection to the Quinn network and its associated families.
Especially since Charles was targeting state fiscal management, which opened up countless strategic advantages.
For Corey, helping him was effortless.
Besides, Charles was naturally aligned with the Quinn faction.
Leaving Aunt Tina aside, achieving his political ambitions was impossible without Corey.
Giving him a push was a win-win for everyone.
At SHIELD headquarters, Nick Fury stood facing away from the door, without turning around even when Phil Coulson submitted the report on Corey’s engagement party.
He didn’t turn back to spare it a glance.
Coulson had no choice but to report verbally.
“Not many people attended Corey’s engagement party today,” Coulson said.
“Only Tony and two of his mentors held significant influence.
The rest were friends and relatives—even Senator Charles was there on a personal basis.” Pausing briefly, Coulson added, “Director, should we scale back our personnel?
I feel our surveillance level on Corey is excessive and might provoke his resentment.
After all, at this stage, he hasn’t shown any clear hostility toward SHIELD or anywhere else.” Nick Fury froze, and the temperature in the office visibly plummeted.
“Remove the surveillance around Corey,” Fury ordered.
“Notify Delta Squad to execute a top-tier protection detail for Gwyneth Norsen.
The protective duration is set for three months.
If anything suspicious occurs during that time, neutralize the threat first and report later.” “Understood!” Receiving the command, Coulson left to make the arrangements.
Only when Nick Fury heard the door click shut behind Coulson did he finally turn around, wincing as he slumped back into his seat.
His dark skin concealed the black eye he was sporting, but Fury felt the lingering ache all too clearly.
He’d been beaten up and hadn’t even dared to fight back.
Right now, *Water Margin* and *Five Thousand Years of Chinese History* sat prominently on his desk.
He picked up Corey’s file, tempted to slam it down, but thought better of it and set it aside.
Resigned to his fate, he grabbed *Water Margin*, flipped to his bookmark, and began reading.
Who comprised Delta Squad?
Just two people: Hawkeye and Natasha.
Both agents were completely baffled upon receiving the order.
Given Hawkeye’s long-range marksmanship and Natasha’s Red Room background, the two usually handled covert assassinations or decapitation strikes.
This was their first time taking on a protection assignment, leaving them momentarily unsure where to begin.
Fortunately, as veteran agents, they reviewed Gwyneth’s profile and drafted a security protocol tailored to her status.
Hawkeye came first—he was the core of the plan, responsible for the “neutralize first” aspect.
He would cover Gwyneth’s daytime travel and daily routine.
Natasha was tasked with close-range infiltration, screening Gwyneth’s social circle, and providing close-quarters protection at night.
Hawkeye would serve as backup while conserving energy to cover the next day’s mobile escort.
Three months for two people was going to be tough.
Natasha was twenty-four; while she could technically try befriending Gwyneth as a confidante, it wasn’t ideal.
Otherwise, things would have been much easier.
For now, her best option was to set up as a neighbor or something similar.
However, after finishing the detailed files, they realized the burden was far heavier than expected, and their initial plan was woefully inadequate.
They immediately submitted a request to Nick Fury for additional personnel to ensure 24/7 coverage, requiring at least one overt and one covert agent watching her at all times.
The briefing materials they received were comprehensive, clearly detailing Gwyneth’s immediate relatives and social network.
Several heavyweights of the Quinn network were listed, including a towering figure whose identity exceeded even their clearance levels (the Ancient One).
Under these circumstances, before launching the protection detail, they needed to pay a visit to the core leadership of the Quinn network.
Since the mysterious figure’s identity was classified, their only option was the current head of the Quinn network—Corey.
After all, the files clearly referenced the Quinn faction, making it obvious who held the reins.
It was their first time needing to apply for permission from the protected party’s patron just to guard someone, leaving both agents feeling helpless.
The night passed without incident.
Corey rose early and opened a portal to pick Gwyneth up for school.
Along the way, they held hands like any young couple, chatting, gossiping, Gwyneth teasing playfully, and Corey patiently coaxing her until they arrived at campus.
After walking her into the classroom amidst cheerful teasing from her classmates, Corey greeted her peers and teachers before heading out through the school gates.
He originally intended to head over to Stark Industries to check on Tony’s armor building, but a woman walking toward him made him pause.
As she reached him and prepared to speak, Corey cut her off.
“I know you,” Corey said.
“Natasha Romanoff, former Red Room operative, codename Black Widow, currently working for SHIELD.
So, Miss Romanoff, what brings you to me?” Natasha swallowed the words stuck in her throat.
What was left to say?
‘I’m Natasha, I’m Black Widow, I’m a SHIELD agent’—he had just said every single bit of it.
“Don’t worry, I have time,” Corey said.
“There’s a café up ahead.
Let me buy you a coffee—and if you don’t mind…” Corey looked up toward a distant rooftop.
Although he lacked a Spider-Sense, Hawkeye hadn’t bothered to hide concealed enough to escape the Sharingan’s sight across that distance.
“…you can invite the gentleman on the roof to join us as well.” Corey took the lead, and Natasha had no choice but to follow.
She finally realized just how high-level the “expert” mentioned in Corey’s file truly was—he was practically looking down on Hawkeye from a higher vantage point than the roof Hawkeye was standing on.