Suddenly, his gaze dropped and he caught sight of Charlotte’s laptop screen, filled with dense, intricate lines of code.
Darren could read code too.
He immediately realized she’d built an automated executive manager from scratch, programming it with intelligent commands that covered every possible affair within the entire family business:
Every month, it automatically calculated each family member’s monthly contribution score.
It generated improvement proposals based on the revenues and expenses of their jewelry subsidiaries.
For branches performing well, it issued decisions like “additional investment” or “expansion plans.”
For underperforming branches, it sent out “layoff targets,” “optimization schemes,” or even “dissolution plans”…
As Darren mentally translated the code, his expression darkened.
So this was the legendary supercomputer inside her head?
“Charlotte,” he swallowed, his throat tight. “How much would you sell this program for?”
If he had something like this, his life would be so much easier.
“Not for sale.”
She shot him down coldly, then asked, “So, what do you actually want?”
Darren hesitated.
Everything he’d planned to do, she’d already handled.
A strange feeling crept over him—her ability, her world, it all seemed so far beyond his reach now.
He gave a helpless laugh, gesturing at the steaming mug on her desk. “Nothing, really. Just wanted to remind you—drink plenty of hot tea.”
With that, he left the study under a cloud of confusion, wondering how he could ever matter to Charlotte again.
Just then, a wave of dizziness swept over him and he staggered. Darren had always been in good health—headaches and faintness were rare. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar climate here in Frostaheim. He’d be back in Heston soon, anyway, so he brushed it off.
Suddenly, his smartwatch chimed—a video call from Noah.


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