Chapter 669 Quinlan's Showdown!
Night fell as the city lights began to flicker on.
Most of the couriers had gone home, but the light in Ryder's office still burned bright. He was buried in a mess of accounts and paperwork. Taking over Calista's disaster of an operation was proving far more exhausting than simply delivering packages. He'd spent the entire day just trying to make sense of months of jumbled transactions and delivery fees.
Rubbing his aching temples, he was about to continue when the office door creaked open without warning.
Ryder frowned. Basic courtesy dictated at least a knock.
Before he could say anything, a familiar, luxurious fragrance drifted in on the evening breeze. That scent...
He looked up reflexively, expecting his wife, a smile starting to form. "Sarah, what are you—"
The words died in his throat.
Standing in the doorway wasn't his wife, but a woman in a designer suit with flawless makeup. It was the drunk woman from last night—Quinlan.
"You?" Ryder's expression darkened.
Quinlan ignored his cold demeanor and glided to the chair opposite him, sitting down with the grace of someone attending a gala dinner. She extended her perfectly manicured hand. "That's right. Allow me to introduce myself—I'm Quinlan. And you are?"
Ryder ignored her outstretched hand and returned to his documents. "Ryder. If you need to ship something, turn right outside and find the duty clerk."
"I came specifically to see you," Quinlan withdrew her hand without embarrassment, studying him with interest. "Interesting name—same as that mysterious chairman of Maple Group."
Ryder mentally rolled his eyes. She knew exactly who he was. Clearly, this woman was just toying with him.
"Are you finished? If so, please leave. I have work to do," Ryder dismissed her bluntly.
Faced with such a direct rejection, surprise flickered in Quinlan's eyes. This man really was different.
She quickly changed tactics, her tone softening. "I came to thank you."
"Not necessary," Ryder replied without looking up, though his mouth twitched slightly.
Thank him? Last night he'd been surrounded and humiliated while she stood by watching. Some gratitude.
"I insist," Quinlan persisted. "When you're free, I'd like to take you to dinner."
"Miss, I already told you—I'm busy," Ryder finally looked up impatiently. "It's getting dark. You shouldn't be out alone. Wouldn't want you getting harassed again."
His pointed sarcasm transformed Quinlan's surprise into deep interest. She smiled.
As the eldest granddaughter of the Newman family and CEO of the Newman Group, with looks that outshone most women, she'd never met a man immune to her charms. Usually she was the one playing hard to get—when had anyone ever treated her so coldly?
A strange desire to conquer him rose within her.
"Ryder, as a man, don't you want to achieve more than your boss?" Quinlan leaned forward slightly. "Perhaps I could help you. Aren't you curious about who I am?"
At this, Ryder actually smiled. "Let me guess—you're about to suggest that if I agree to be a matrilocal husband for the Newman family, my career could surpass Maple Group's chairman?"
Quinlan smiled back with a hint of approval. "You're clever. I see Ursa told you everything. Now that you know I'm looking for a husband, and that I'm the Newman family's eldest granddaughter and CEO, aren't you even slightly tempted?"
"Not in the slightest," Ryder answered decisively.
"Why not?"
"Because I am Maple Group's Chairman Ryder—that matrilocal husband you mentioned."
Quinlan paused, then burst into laughter. "You're hilarious. You think it's hard for me to check someone's background?"
She pulled out her phone, brought up a photo, and held it in front of him, her tone teasing. "Since you insist, let me crush your delusions. Look carefully—this is the real chairman of Maple Group."
Ryder leaned forward and nearly lost his composure. The photo showed Uncle Ryan's face photoshopped onto Rex's body!
This had to be Damon's handiwork—the fake photos he'd created to hide Ryder's identity. Somehow, this false information had made its way to Quinlan.
No wonder she was so confident.
Ryder shook his head in resignation.
Quinlan put her phone away, watching him with satisfaction. "Disappointed? Is becoming a husband in the Newman family really so beneath you? I haven't even complained about you being a delivery guy."
"I'm complaining," Ryder said bluntly.
"You—!" Quinlan's face froze at the retort.
"Miss, I'm already married," Ryder explained seriously.
"Don't use that excuse with me." Quinlan dismissed his words, standing up like a proud peacock and smoothing her already-perfect outfit. "The point is, I've chosen you. And I'm confident that sooner or later, you'll fall for me."
"Ha, you're delusional."
"Don't be so sure. We'll see," Quinlan raised an eyebrow and shot him a flirtatious look.
Ryder didn't even blink.
Unbothered, she shrugged and walked out, her high heels making sharp, rhythmic clicks against the floor.
The door closed, and silence returned.
Only then did Ryder look up at the closed door, shaking his head in exasperation.
What a strange, arrogant woman.
Compared to her, his beautiful and understanding Sarah was infinitely more lovable.
He pushed these distractions aside and refocused on his work, completely unaware that across town, a massive conspiracy targeting him and Sarah was quietly taking shape.
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