Chapter 7: Does It Help to Apologize After Doing Something? (Please Bookmark and Vote)

### Chapter 7: Does It Help to Apologize After Doing Something? (Please Bookmark and Vote)

Jackson Street is in the southern part of the Bronx, across from the bustling Manhattan Island, separated by the Harlem River. The southern part of the Bronx is mainly populated by African and Latin American residents, with the average income level among the lowest in New York. In the 70s and 80s, incidents of looting, arson, and robbery were common on the streets.

Richard's father, a small-time gang leader, died in the turmoil of the 80s.

By the 90s, under the city's crackdown, the security situation in the Bronx had improved somewhat, but compared to Manhattan across the river, it was still worlds apart.

Richard drove a beat-up Ford that made all kinds of noises except for the horn, crossing the Harlem Bridge to the northern part of Manhattan, also known as the Upper East Side, where the wealthy congregate.

He stopped at a used car dealership, a large lot with hundreds of used cars, some old, some new, including luxury cars and ones like Richard's clunker.

"Charles, come out and greet your customer."

Getting out of the car, Richard carefully closed the door to prevent it from falling off.

"Richard, I heard you made some money and are looking to buy a new car?"

A middle-aged man with a mustache crawled out from under a car, his overalls covered in grease.

"You heard about it over here too?"

Richard frowned.

"Haha, I was there that night. I heard Andy sent over forty guys to find you, and you actually went into the booth and held Andy hostage, hahaha~ You really are something!"

Charles laughed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Hehe, it was a quick-witted move to save my life, but I did get shot here."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!"

Richard shrugged and pointed to the beat-up Ford. "So, how much is this car worth?"

"You're selling the car?"

"Sell first, then buy."

"Alright!"

Charles walked over and took a look. "A '68 Thunderbird, originally priced at $3,500. Now, let's see..." Charles kicked it, and the hood, left door, and front light fell off with a clatter.

Richard looked up at the sky and whistled. You kicked it; you're responsible.

"$1,000, that's the best I can do."

"Fair enough!"

The two were old friends; Charles had even hung out with Richard's dad in the past and usually took good care of him, so Richard wasn't worried about getting ripped off.

"New cars are over here! Don't worry, these cars are absolutely clean."

Charles pointed to several rows of luxury cars.

An 80% new Mercedes sports car was priced at $60,000, an 80% new Lamborghini sports car at $80,000, a Rolls-Royce business sedan at $100,000, and a Ferrari F50 at $120,000. They were tempting, but unaffordable.

"Do you want a sports car?"

Charles grinned.

"I do, but I can't afford it."

"Haha, come here, look at this car, a Porsche 911. I can sell it to you at half price in my name."

Charles pointed to a silver Porsche sports coupe, priced at $88,000. According to dealership rules, veteran employees could buy cars at half price, with one such purchase allowed after ten years of service.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Richard blinked. "Could it be you're actually my real dad?"

"Cough, hahaha, you little rascal. If I had a son like you, I think I'd die laughing."

"Hehe~"

Richard grinned.

"When are you fighting again?"

Charles stomped out his cigarette.

"I don't know."

"Let me know before your next match. I want to bet on you."

"You believe in me that much?"

"Of course, I always bet on you to win."

Charles smiled.

"OK!"

Richard took the car for a spin, finding it much more comfortable and satisfying than his old Ford.

With a six-cylinder engine, 300 horsepower, and the ability to accelerate to 120 km/h in 10 seconds, with a top speed of 220 km/h, Richard gritted his teeth and bought it, then regretted it immediately.

Vroom vroom vroom~

In the sunlight by the Harlem River, a silver sports car sped down Highway 19, disappearing in a flash.

——

"Hey, Bundchen!"

At the IMG company, Bundchen was getting off work and was about to get in her car when she heard someone call out.

The man, in a flamboyant blue suit that highlighted his tall, straight figure, wore gold-rimmed glasses, appearing both handsome and genteel. He held a bouquet of roses and walked over slowly.

Bundchen looked closely. She didn't recognize him.

"Who are you?" she asked, frowning.

The man in the suit smiled charmingly, his voice husky, "Get in the car, don't make me use force."

"Oh~, you're that rogue, Richard!"

Bundchen's eyes widened. This jerk was this handsome? It had been too dark that night to see clearly, but now, he looked quite decent.

"Bundchen, thank you for your help last time. If it weren't for you, I might have died on the street."

"It was nothing. You would have been fine without me."

Bundchen waved her hand dismissively.

"Bundchen, you're really a kind girl. Please accept my thanks."

Richard smiled slightly and offered the roses.

Bundchen blushed as she accepted the flowers. It was really an accident that she stopped the car that night, and she was forced to take him to the hospital. She didn't really intend to save him.

"Bundchen, do you have time? How about having a meal together?"

Richard invited.

Bundchen hesitated.

Having a meal meant going on a date.

But they had only met twice, and she still didn't know what he did. What if he was a trafficker?

Should she refuse?

This guy seemed sincere, and it wouldn't hurt to make more friends in New York.

Should she go or not?

That was the question.

"Please get in the car!"

Richard opened the door.

"I..."

"Don't make me use force, okay?"

Richard blinked playfully.

Hmph, this jerk is still so domineering.

Bundchen flipped her hair and reluctantly got into the car.

Once inside, she was surprised to find that the jerk was driving a Porsche. Could he really be a company boss?

——

"Sorry, Bundchen, I was too rude just now."

While driving, Richard apologized sincerely.

Bundchen fluttered her long lashes. Does it help to apologize after doing something?

"Why are you inviting me to dinner? Let me be clear, I'm doing well at IMG and won't jump ship to your company."

"Haha, what happened last time was just a joke. I never intended for you to jump ship.

You're an excellent, no, exceptional model. In the future, you'll definitely become a supermodel, maybe even a legend in the modeling world. Only a big company like IMG can provide you with a broad stage.

My BAA hasn't been around for a year, and we don't have the resources or connections to compare with IMG.

Although I'd love to work with you, I know BAA isn't right for you.

I'm approaching you just to thank you and make a friend."

Richard said seriously.

Bundchen nodded. "Is your injury healed?"

"Yes, mostly healed."

Richard shrugged and smiled.

"That was fast. How did you get hurt, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Of course not. Besides running the company, I'm also a boxer. That day, I participated in a match and luckily won. Someone bet on me to lose and took revenge on me."

"Oh!"

Bundchen had seen the injuries on his face that night, so that's how it happened.

"As long as you're not a trafficker."

Bundchen muttered.

Richard laughed, "Who says I'm not? Sometimes when I see a girl I like, I don't mind turning into a trafficker."

"Hmph, do you think I'd be scared?"

Bundchen raised her eyebrows nonchalantly and opened her handbag, revealing a black box.

It was a stun gun.

After what happened last time, Bundchen always carried it with her.

She calmly picked it up and turned it on, producing a crackling sound.

"Ugh, there are too many bad guys these days. We girls have to learn to protect ourselves."

Bundchen sighed.

Richard tugged at his mouth. Girl, if I said I was from the electric company, would you believe me?

(End of this chapter)