Back to the Past Breaking the Love Spell (Carlisle Zahn) novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103 

“Is this really an authentic piece by Harold Delacruz?” Carlisle asked, eyeing the old man skeptically. 

The old man chuckled awkwardly and said, “I can’t guarantee that. You’ll have to judge for yourself.” 

Pointing at the “Thousand Stallions” painting, Carlisle said, “Let me see that ‘Thousand Stallions‘ painting first.” 

The old man retrieved a pair of white cotton gloves from his pocket and carefully untied the cotton rope binding the scroll before unveiling it. 

Carlisle picked up a magnifying glass and began examining the painting closely. 

The old man said, “Given your family’s probably extensive collection of antiques, I assume you know a thing or two about them, right?” 

Carlisle replied casually, “A little.” 

The old man chuckled again. “You’re quite modest.” 

Carlisle carefully examined the details of the horses‘ hooves through the magnifying glass and then inspected the seals. 

With a sigh, he shook his head and said, “Show me the other painting.” 

Without much ado, the old man rolled up the painting and placed it back in the wooden box. He then opened the scroll containing the “Galloping Horses” painting. 

Carlisle continued his careful examination with the magnifying glass. 

Not far away, Wanda sat on the bench. She rested her chin on her hands, admiring the serious Carlisle. 

It was a shame her phone had died, or she would’ve taken more pictures of him. 

Suddenly, a chilling voice from outside interrupted her thoughts. 

“Is this the place?” 

“Yes, this is it.” 

“Mr. Gust, please. 

“Mr. Thompson, please, after you!” 

Wanda stood up abruptly and dashed toward Carlisle, her voice quivering as she said, “Carlisle, my dad’s 

here.” 

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s such a coincidence!” 

Wanda looked at the old man and said, “Sir, I need a place to hide!” 

Pointing to a warehouse behind him, the old man said, “Go in there, but be careful not to knock over any porcelain.” 

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Wanda hesitated for a moment. She bit her lip and entered the dark storage room, closing the door behind her. 

Carlisle inquired, “I’ll take this ‘Galloping Horses‘ painting. How much is it?” 

The old man clicked his tongue. “You must be familiar with the antique market’s rules, right?” 

“No returns, and no refunds,” Carlisle said. 

He had seen quite a few movies about antiques in his previous life and remembered some of the jargon. 

The old man let out a chuckle and said, “For an average buyer, I’d sell this painting for 300 thousand dollars. But given your special status, I’ll give it to you for 150 thousand.” 

Carlisle shook his head. “The seals on this painting aren’t authentic, and the details on the horses‘ hooves 

need improvement. It’s not worth the asking price.” 

The old man looked at Carlisle in surprise and then grumbled, “Well, 120 thousand dollars will do.” 

Carlisle dismissed the painting with a wave. “I could pick this up for 60 thousand dollars just for fun!”