Chapter 43
A brief description of the piece appeared on the large screen as Natalie began to introduce it.
However, the work wasn’t particularly old, and its creator was less famous than other master calligraphers, so the room remained silent. No paddles were raised.
Natalie smiled again, highlighting the unique qualities of the artwork. “The bidding starts at two million. Do I have any offers p>
The hall was still. No one moved.
“Any interest from our phone or online buyers p>
The staff managing those channels shook their heads.
Watching from backstage, Ava Thompson felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. If no one bid soon, the piece would go unsold—a terrible omen for Billy Firth’s inaugural auction in Asia. A failed lot would not only be a disastrous start for the company but also a first for Natalie, who had never had an item go unsold under her gavel.
Ava gripped her phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she quickly typed out a message.
Seeing the lack of interest, Eric Bailey slumped back into his armchair. “I told you it wouldn’t be that easy. My grandpa wouldn’t listen, though. He has so much faith in this auctioneer, but it looks like she’s about to disappoint him p>
Isabella Ward scoffed, her eyes dripping with disdain. “Maybe her past successes were just luck. I’ve never heard of an auctioneer who’s never had a failed lot. Vice President of the Asia-Pacific region? At this rate, Billy Firth will be bankrupt in no time p>
Camila White offered a faint, mocking smile, quickly schooling her features into a mask of sympathy. “Don’t be so harsh. It can’t have been easy for Natalie. Becoming an auctioneer, then a VP… she must have worked very hard. This industry is dominated by men; it’s never easy for a woman p>
Her words were carefully chosen, subtly implying that Natalie might have used less- than-honorable means to achieve her success, all while sounding as if she were defending her.
After her little performance, Camila glanced discreetly at Alexander Ramirez. His gaze was still locked on the auction stage. She curled her fingers, a fire of jealousy igniting within her. But the thought of Natalie becoming a laughingstock when the piece failed to sell was a soothing balm to her wounded pride.
Samuel Thompson checked his phone, then shot Alexander a look that was pure schadenfreude. “Aren’t you going to help out your friend, Mr. Ramirez?” he drawled, having noticed the familiar way Nora had addressed them earlier.
“Who? Mr. Bailey?” Alexander asked, his eyes never leaving the stage, deliberately misunderstanding the question.
Eric, missing the subtext, waved a hand dismissively. “This is my grandpa’s thing. It has nothing to do with me.” Updates are released by.net
Samuel let out a soft chuckle and tapped out a reply on his phone: Can’t help.
On stage, Natalie’s gaze swept across the silent room, showing no trace of embarrassment or panic. She remained perfectly composed, her smile unwavering.
“This piece, ‘Rhythm of Ink,’ was
originally part of The Aura Gallery’s collection,” she announced, her voice calm and clear. “These strokes are not merely ink on paper, but a dance of disciplined strength and ethereal grace-each character breathes with a life of its own. This is more than calligraphy; it is visual poetry, a
moment where the artist’s spit
seems to have flowed unimpeded from heart through brush, capturing an instant of pure, unadulterated intent p>
As her words settled, a paddle went up.
“Mr. Wood bids two point two million. Any other bids p>
Another paddle rose, then another, and another p>
Eric Bailey stared, dumbfounded. Just moments ago, the piece was met with habsolute silence. Now, after a few sentences from Nora, à bidding war had erupted. The price, which had started at two million, was now climbing past eight million.
“What just happened?” Eric muttered, bewildered. “I didn’t hear anything in her speech that would suddenly make all these people so interested p>
Unconsciously, the corner of Alexander Ramirez’s mouth lifted into a slight smile. “What are you smiling about?” Eric asked, even more confused.
“Nora is certainly clever,” Samuel Thompson remarked, his eyes filled with genuine admiration. “She knows what she’s doing p>
Bruce Ward was just as lost. “I don’t get it either. What’s going on p>
Alexander shot him a look, too dismissive to bother with a full explanation.
“Well, are you going to tell us or not?” Eric pressed impatiently. “Stop keeping us in suspense p>
Alexander’s gaze returned to Natalie, and he spoke slowly. “You’ve just returned from abroad, so you wouldn’t know. The Aura Gallery is owned by the mayor’s wife p>
The gallery, as well as the art
museum he and Natalie had once visited together, both belonged to her. An item from the mayor’s wife’s collection was an instant status symbol, a valuable asset. And even if it weren’t, who would pass up an opportunity to curry favor?
Understanding dawned on Eric and Bruce’s faces.
Samuel added, “And her commentary on the piece was exceptionally insightful. She
highlighted its key attributes in just a few words. That was very impressive p>