Chapter 653 Who Do You Think I Look Like?
"My phone! Stop that thief!"
The old man jumped in shock as his phone was taken. He sprang to his feet and chased after Ryder.
"Oh my God!" The onlookers were completely stunned. What was happening? All that blood! The supposedly broken bones! And now he was running—even faster than Ryder!
The old man quickly caught up with Ryder and snatched back his phone. "You bastard, trying to steal from me!"
Ryder just shrugged, unbothered. He turned to the driver and the crowd: "Well, that proves it—this old man is a scammer. What kind of injured person bleeds that much and still runs like an athlete?"
The old man froze, looking at himself and then at the pool of blood. That plasma had taken days to collect, a little at a time. Damn it! Ten thousand dollars, gone because of this delivery boy!
"Kid, you'll regret sticking your nose in my business," the old man snarled before taking off.
The crowd was shocked but quickly caught on, muttering about con artists and how they should call the police. But it was too late—the scammer had already disappeared.
At least the driver hadn't lost any money, though fixing the scratched Mercedes wouldn't be cheap.
"Thank you for your quick thinking and courage," Max approached Ryder gratefully.
"Don't mention it. I just happened to be here and couldn't let you get played. You might have money, but we can't let these scammers get away with this stuff. Let them succeed once, and they'll only try something worse next time."
"You're absolutely right! I would've felt terrible giving money to that fraud," Max agreed. He pulled out his phone again. "Let me have your number. Delivery work isn't easy—I'd like to send you two thousand dollars as thanks."
Ryder politely shook his head, declining the reward. He waved goodbye, saying he had deliveries to finish.
"Wait a second!"
A young woman stepped out of the Mercedes. She wore black tights with a short skirt and a tailored blazer over a crisp white shirt—the very picture of a professional businesswoman.
"Max, step back. I need to speak with this gentleman," she instructed the driver, who nodded and retreated.
The woman studied Ryder. Good looks, nice build, just the wrong profession. But she didn't seem to mind. She extended her hand: "I'm Ursa, assistant to the Newman family. And you are?"
Ryder's head filled with question marks, but he politely shook her hand. "Hello, I'm a delivery person with Passion Logistics Management Company."
"Yes, I can tell from your uniform. You know, you seem intelligent, brave, and principled. Have you considered a future beyond delivery work? This job has a pretty low ceiling. Physical labor isn't much different from construction work."
Ryder nodded in understanding: "Oh, you're offering me a job at your company?"
Ursa shook her head. "No. Something better."
Ryder frowned. "I'm not following."
Ursa gave a knowing smile. "This might sound abrupt, but I'm serious. The fact that you stepped up when someone was in trouble shows you're a good person with integrity and quick thinking. I've been searching all week without finding the right candidate. Just when I was about to give up, you appeared!"
"I can tell you're not looking for handouts," she continued. "The Newman family is looking for a son-in-law who would marry into the family, which would eventually involve helping manage the company. I'm wondering if you'd be interested?"
Ursa's tone was serious, without a hint of mockery.
Ryder stared at her, taken aback. "Sorry, I'm not interested in marrying you or being anyone's son-in-law."
"Haha!" Ursa laughed at his response. "You're adorable! I'm not talking about marrying me—I mean my boss! By the way, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate my looks?"
"Nine, I guess. Look, I need to get going," Ryder replied dismissively.
Ursa blocked his path. "If I'm a nine, then my boss, Miss Newman, is a twelve in both face and figure."
"Okay then," Ryder responded with a polite but fake smile, trying to leave.
Ursa persisted, "I'm serious! Miss Newman is known as the top beauty among Aurora City's elite. And don't let traditional thinking cloud your judgment—being a son-in-law who marries into a family isn't shameful. It doesn't mean you'll have no future or that you'll live under your mother-in-law's and wife's shadows forever."
When Ryder didn't respond, she continued, "Listen, if you marry into the Newman family, your life will improve dramatically. First, Miss Newman won't restrict you much or make you do housework. Second, you'll never worry about money. If you want to invest in something, you'll have support!"
She leaned in closer. "You know the chairman of Maple Group, your company's parent organization? He married into the Johnson family in Houston, and look how successful his company is now!"
Ryder froze slightly. How did the conversation turn to his own story?
Ursa continued listing the benefits of marrying into a wealthy family, barely pausing for breath.
Even driver Max found himself thinking that if he were twenty years younger, he'd volunteer for the position in a heartbeat! It was like winning the lottery—skipping years of hard work, maybe avoiding it altogether!
When Ursa finally finished, her throat was dry. She looked at Ryder hopefully. "So, what do you think? Would you like me to arrange a meeting?"
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