I was just about to come up with an excuse to turn it down, when Henry Smith chuckled lightly and said, "I heard Ryan's pretty good at martial arts. If he's willing to train hard, I can hire him as a bodyguard."
Hearing that made my heart skip a beat.
Bodyguards in the Smith Group are all hardcore—trained since they were kids and loaded with championship titles. What made Ryan qualified to join that crowd?
I turned to Henry, trying to read his face. As usual, he wore that polite, detached smile, calm as ever. I could never guess what he was really thinking.
"Ryan’s not bad athletically," my aunt chimed in, trying to save face, "Plus, he’s smart. Knows quite a bit about computers too..."
She clearly didn’t think much of the bodyguard job and sounded reluctant. But my uncle
