Her Castoff Blind Date, My Road to Riches

Henry looked at me with a deep, unreadable gaze and asked, "Was it worth offending your relatives for an ex-con?"

I sniffed lightly, then grabbed his hand and pressed it against my cheek.

"As long as it's you, it's worth it."

Just as we finished dinner and stepped out of the small eatery, a red Ferrari roared up and screeched to a halt by the roadside.

The window rolled down, revealing Myra's smug face. In the driver's seat sat a blond-haired rich man. That man was Jasper Ceylon.

"Hey, so you're really begging here?" Myra remarked as she looped her arm through Jasper's, watching us as though she were watching a show.

Jasper looked Henry up and down and let out a contemptuous sneer. Then he pulled out a thick stack of cash, probably around a thousand dollars, and casually flicked it forward. The bills scattered through the air and struck Henry's face like falling petals.

"Hey, old man, my tire's dirty," Jasper drawled. "Clean it properly, and this is yours."

The bills landed on Henry's worn vest and then dropped to the ground, quickly getting stained with dust.

Myra clapped her hands in delight. "Sam, tell your convict to pick it up. That's enough for stew for a month!"

Henry stood there without moving. His fists tightened slightly at his sides.

I knew he was holding himself back. He was waiting for my reaction.

Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, I suddenly rushed forward. I grabbed the money from the ground, but instead of keeping it, I flung it straight back into Jasper's smug face.

"Do you think having money makes you so great?" I snapped.

The bills smacked against Jasper's face, and he froze.

I stepped in front of Henry, with my arms spread wide. My frame was thin, but I stood there like a wall.

"Take your filthy money and get lost! Don't underestimate someone just because they're young and struggling. I believe Mr. Quinton will be far richer and far more successful than you ever will!"

I shouted until my throat went raw, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks.

The surrounding crowd had already gathered to watch. Jasper felt humiliated and cursed under his breath as he tried to get out of the car and start a fight.

At that moment, Henry suddenly stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder.

He looked at Jasper coldly. There was no anger in his eyes, only a chilling indifference, like he was looking at a dead man.

Jasper inexplicably shivered. He spat out another curse, called us insane, then slammed on the accelerator and drove away.

Henry lowered his gaze to me, and a faint, amused smile tugged at his lips. "Don't underestimate someone just because they're young and struggling? I'm almost 40."

I turned around and wrapped my arms around his waist, wiping my tears against his shirt.

"Mr. Quinton, you're not old," I said firmly. "You're a high-potential asset."

That night, we received some news. Jasper's Ferrari was impounded by traffic police for suspected illegal modifications and license plate violations. His family company was also raided by tax authorities for inspection.

Myra, however, still refused to give up. On the third day, she sent me a photo. It was slightly blurry, but Henry's figure was clearly visible.

He was wearing a sharp suit, walking out of a five-star hotel, and bending slightly as he got into a Maybach with a license plate full of eights.

Myra also sent a voice message. "Sam, I was wrong about that so-called old loner. It turns out he's a gigolo. I knew that there was no way he could afford to support himself, so he must have been serving rich women instead. Sam, have you been with him, too? What if you catch something from him?"

My heart pounded violently as I stared at that photo.

That was his car. That was his true identity, but I couldn't show that I already knew.

Soon after, Myra came straight to the dormitory and shoved her phone right in front of my face.

"Have you seen it clearly now? This is your so-called high-potential asset."

The dorm mates murmured in low voices, looking at me with disdain.

I stared at the photo, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. My face turned deathly pale in an instant, and tears began to well up in my eyes.