“Grandpa was a real clairvoyant when it came to foreseeing things. I just couldn’t memorize his formulas.
Elio noticed that Newell had knocked back a few glasses of wine and was getting a bit tipsy, so he decided to steer the conversation. "Speaking of recipes, do you know who's got them now?"
Newell stiffened at the question, then replied with a forced casualness, "How should I know? All I can say is they're not with me..."
"But he can't pass them to our uncles, can he?" Elio pretended to be distressed, smacking his lips, "I've been thinking, maybe I should dip into my savings and buy the formula."
Newell raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why would you want to buy it?"
"It's nothing much. I just feel like our family heirloom, that formula, shouldn't be lost, you know? And what if something happens to the one person who knows it? Wouldn't that mean our family treasure is as good as gone?"
Newell's eyes darted around as he mulled it over, "You've got a point. I'll snoop around for you. How much are you willing to pay for it?"
Hook, line, and sinker!
Elio could barely conceal a smirk.
"It's gonna cost a pretty penny to get that formula. We're talking at least thirty to fifty million dollars. If it's with our uncles, even that might not cut it. We'd probably have to start the bidding at fifty million dollars!"
The number nearly knocked Newell off his chair!
That was a sum he couldn't even dream of in his lifetime!
Newell was astounded, "Do you have that kind of money?"
"Why are you so surprised? I'm considered a miracle at the hospital. Plus, I've made some investments, consider myself a bit of an entrepreneur. If I didn't have that kind of money, what would be the point of it all?"
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