Back to the Past: Breaking the Love Spell

Worried his dad might use the ashtray in anger toward Carlisle, Daniel swiftly moved it away from Ryan's hand.

With the company relying on Carlisle's help, Daniel made sure to prevent any potential conflict.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Then, Ryan changed his tone, saying, "My processor works with almost all phones out there. I've seen Riley Corporation's products. Trust me, they'll work great with my processor."

Despite his bold claim, he secretly doubted that Riley Corporation's phones could even come close to matching his processor's capabilities.

Ryan thought that perhaps Daniel had a point. Carlisle didn't seem to grasp much about phones, let alone processors.

At that moment, Carlisle took out his phone and called Hank.

"Boss..." Hank's hoarse voice came through the phone.

Carlisle casually asked, "Could you send me our smart system concept book?"

"To your

"Yeah."

Messenger inbox?" inquired Hank.

After ending the call, Carlisle got up and turned to Ryan, asking, "Do you mind if I use your computer?"

Ryan stood up from his chair to accommodate him. Carlisle then opened the computer, logged into his MSN messenger account, and accessed his email. Ryan hovered behind Carlisle, peering over his shoulder at the computer screen.

As Carlisle refreshed the inbox, Hank's email appeared promptly. He clicked to open the attachment. Inside was a comprehensive manual detailing the functions of the Smartphone's smart system. The document also included designs for the phone's appearance and user interface.

These designs were crafted based on Carlisle's descriptions.

However, the feasibility of bringing them to life depended on the manufacturing capabilities of the hardware. Hank's cleverness was evident from his extractions of the core technology from Carlisle's descriptions.

Carlisle stood up and said, "Mr. Ryan, take a look at these blueprints. I'm curious if your processor can handle powering my phone."

With that said, he settled back in and took a sip from his cup.

"My processor can handle Nokia and Motorola, let alone your obscure phones," Ryan shot back.

He grew increasingly irritated with the incessant provocation from someone barely older than his son.

Daniel chimed in, urging. "Come on, Dad, Give it a chance before you judge."

He wouldn't have easily trusted Carlisle before. But ever since he saw Carlisle's bank balance, he had not reason to doubt him now.

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Carlisle, asking. “Are you playing games with me, or are you genuinely interested in buying my company?

"If you're just here to comfort me on behalf of my son, then consider your mission accomplished."

With a resigned sigh, Carlisle retrieved a checkbook from his pocket and wrote a 55 million-dollar check.

It was worth noting that at that time, 55 million would be of equal value to five hundred million in the next ten years or so.

Ryan and Daniel both widened their eyes simultaneously, their expressions nearly identical.

Carlisle tore off the check and casually slid it across the table with a smile.

"You might be skeptical about the legitimacy of this check, but you're welcome to verify its authenticity."

With decades of business experience under his belt, Ryan could easily distinguish between real and fake.

checks.

He flicked the desk lamp on and inspected the check under its glow.

"Dad, Carl really has two hundred million. I'm not joking, Daniel insisted.

He was slowly feeling frustrated by his father's skepticism.

Daniel worried about the consequences if they upset Carl, and he backed out of buying the En company.

Carlisle remained calm and showed Ryan the bank text messages on his phone.

As Ryan scrolled through the notifications of balance changes his eyes widened dramatically upon seeing over 20 transactions from Islo Clothing transferring funds.

He looked up at Carlisle and asked, "What's your connection to Lethan?"

Islo Clothing had transferred 180 million dollars to him.

Ryan couldn't help but wonder if Carlisle could possibly be Lethan's illegitimate child.