The Divorced Girlboss’ Regret ( Wyatt Coleman’s )

“Hey, it’s Mr. Cowan!” The crowd burst into excitement, making it feel like a major celebrity 

event. 

Joseph Cowan had always remained elusive, never appearing in public or showing his face. Only a few of his calligraphy pieces had circulated in the calligraphy world. 

Who would have thought it was this guy, named Wyatt Coleman! 

“Hey Mr. Holt, he’s that famous Mr. Cowan you’re always talking about!” someone yelled. 

But Nathan stayed quiet, tears still streaming down his face. 

He was so engrossed in the meaning behind those eight characters that he couldn’t pull himself away for quite a while. 

“He’s… Mr. Cowan?” Maya was completely dumbfounded. 

“How could that useless Wyatt Coleman be Joseph Cowan? Are these businessmen teaming up to prank us?” Matthew was astonished. 

“Dumbass!” William glared at the Lawson family. Their comments about Wyatt being useless had clouded his judgment. 

Looking at the bustling crowd below, Wyatt on the stage was dumbfounded. 

He had no clue that the casual strokes he scribbled would cause such a commotion in the calligraphy world, let alone that he had so many fans. 

If he had known earlier, he wouldn’t have put pen to paper. Too much attention. 

“Hey Ms. Moore, I’ll put down two million for Mr. Cowan’s calligraphy artwork!” Max Lewis, a businessman, stood up and declared on the spot. 

However, his words just ended up causing laughter. 

“Two million for Mr. Cowan’s calligraphy artwork? Dream on, Mr. Lewis!” 

“Mr. Cowan’s calligraphy is pretty rare out there. Just a handful floating around. They used to sell for a hundred thousand per character, but now they’re hitting a million!” 

“Exactly! Mr. Cowan’s previous calligraphy usually had only four characters, but this one has a whopping eight, making it even more valuable! I’ll put up eight million!” shouted a wealthy boss. 

“I’m putting up ten million!” declared a refined middle–aged man, recognized by many as 

Simon Munn, the king of Yonada stationery. 

“Twenty million!” bellowed a robust middle–aged man, none other than the coal magnate Logan Hardy. 

“Why would a coal miner like you, Mr. Hardy, even want Mr. Cowan’s calligraphy?” someone objected. 

“Why can’t I give it to my bosses?” Logan retorted, with a sense of righteousness. 

“Heh, Mr. Cowan’s calligraphy are invaluable treasures. I’m offering thirty million!” Another mogul chimed in. It was Zack Obel, the real estate magnate of Yonada. 

“I’ll put up forty million,” a man in a suit said nonchalantly. 

“Fifty million!” Simon clenched his teeth. 

“Sixty million!” This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“I’ll offer sixty–five million!” 

“Damn, seventy million! Who’s brave enough to challenge me?” 

“I’m in for eighty million!” 

As the big shots in the crowd competed fiercely with their bids, everyone exchanged glances. 

Many were utterly shocked. Eight characters for eighty million? 

Ann couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. This was meant to be their company’s opening ceremony, but now it had turned into an unexpected auction! 

“I’ll bid a billion dollars!” Suddenly, a female entrepreneur stood up, her voice assertive. 

The crowd was stunned by this price. The once bustling venue fell silent in an instant. 

“A billion dollars…” Hayley on stage took a couple of steps back, reaching out to steady herself on the nearby chair. She felt a bit unstable. 

Were the eight characters Wyatt had casually written down really worth billions? Was he still 

a useless loser? 

At that moment, Ann looked toward Hayley, who lowered her head deeply, her face flushed.