CHAPTER II
1079 Words
(THAT VERY FIRST MOMENT)
“FIANCEE? Future husband?”
Seven-year-old Natalia Millwright crossed her arms and looked down her tiny nose at the boy standing in front of her.
“I will not acknowledge such blasphemy.”
Her chin lifted higher, her posture proud, as though she already sat on a throne.
“I, Natalia Millwright—the only daughter and sole heiress of the Millwright Group—will never marry someone who looks like a bulldog!”
Gasps rippled through the ballroom.
The chandeliers glittered above them. The elite of high society froze mid-sip, mid-whisper, mid-smile. This was supposed to be the most elegant banquet of the year—the moment two powerful families would unite.
Instead, it had turned into a battlefield.
“What did you just say?” the boy shouted back.
He was about her age, dressed in a tiny black tuxedo, his blue eyes flashing with outrage.
“I am not a bulldog, you pig!”
“I don’t care!” Natalia screamed. “You’re ugly and annoying!”
“And you’re mean and loud!”
They were nose-to-nose now, shouting over the soft violin music, while stunned adults watched the future heirs of two dynasties try to destroy each other.
“Natalia!”
Her father’s voice cracked like thunder through the hall.
She turned around to face Chairman Millwright’s stern expression.
“What do you think you are doing?” he demanded. “Do you know how embarrassing this is?”
“Why?” Natalia shot back, her small fists clenched. “I’m only telling the truth!”
“Enough.”
His tone was cold.
It was the first time Natalia felt it—and it hurt.
“Arthur!” a woman’s voice called out urgently.
Two elegant ladies rushed toward the boy. One was older, her silver hair neatly pinned, her presence commanding and refined. The other was younger, stunning, graceful, and visibly distressed.
The boy ran straight to them.
“Grandmother! Mom!” he cried. “She yelled at me and called me a dog!”
The older woman turned sharp eyes on Natalia.
“Young lady, that was unacceptable.”
“Natalia, apologize,” her father ordered.
Her lips trembled.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered.
“That’s enough!” Chairman Millwright shouted.
Natalia’s heart cracked.
“I hate you!” she screamed suddenly. “I hate everything! I want my mommy!”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned and ran.
No one followed her.
She didn’t go to her room.
Instead, she slipped into the hidden elevator her mother had once shown her—the one no one else knew about—and rode it down to the underground parking lot.
Then she ran.
Out of the mansion.
Out of her life.
That night, Natalia Millwright ran away for the first time.
Hours later, she sat beneath a playground slide in a nearby park, clutching her stuffed rabbit, Mr. Rabbit.
“It’s just you and me now,” she whispered bravely.
Her stomach growled.
She unwrapped a granola bar and tried not to cry.
“Hello, Lia.”
Her head snapped up.
Tan-tan.
Her best friend.
He stood at the edge of the playground, hands on his knees, out of breath.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go home.”
“I won’t,” she pouted. “No one listens to me.”
He knelt beside her.
“I will.”
Her tears came again.
“I miss my mommy.”
He hugged her.
“I’ll protect you,” he promised. “No matter what.”
And she believed him.
Ten years later…
“Miss Natalia Millwright!”
Natalia blinked, pulled back to reality by a sharp voice.
Winona Green stood beside her desk, arms crossed, smirking.
“Tired, aren’t you?”
Natalia forced a polite smile.
“I’m sorry, Miss Green.”
“My mom—the editor in chief—wants you in her office. Now.”
Great.
Moments later, Natalia stood before her boss.
“I want you to cover a certain billionaire,” Monica said.
Natalia frowned. “A businessman?”
Monica slid a magazine across the desk.
Natalia’s eyes dropped to the page.
And the world tilted.
Nathan Williams.
The same boy.
The same bulldog.
Now a billionaire.
Fate had just laughed.
Nathan’s POV — The Day She Called Me a Bulldog
Nathan Williams did not want to be there.
The tuxedo itched. The ballroom was too bright. And everyone kept looking at him like he was a prize instead of a boy.
“Stand straight, Arthur,” his grandmother whispered. “Smile.”
He hated smiling for strangers.
The banquet was supposed to be special—the day he would meet the girl he was promised to. The girl his family kept talking about as if she were a crown, not a person.
Then he saw her.
Natalia Millwright.
She stood in a white dress that looked like it belonged to a princess, her dark hair tied with a ribbon. For a second, Nathan thought she was beautiful.
Until she opened her mouth.
“Fiancée? Future husband?” she scoffed. “I will not acknowledge such blasphemy!”
The room went silent.
Nathan’s ears burned.
“I am Natalia Millwright,” she announced proudly, “and I will never marry someone who looks like a bulldog!”
The words hit him like a slap.
“What?” he shouted back, humiliation flooding his chest. “I am not a bulldog!”
But she was already glaring at him, her small face red with fury.
“I don’t care! You’re ugly!”
Something inside him snapped.
“You’re a pig!”
They were yelling now, their voices echoing through the ballroom while adults stared in shock.
Nathan didn’t understand why it hurt so much.
He had been called many things before—spoiled, rich, arrogant—but never ugly.
Never unwanted.
When her father shouted, Nathan flinched. He hated angry men. Hated loud voices. He felt small again.
When Natalia screamed for her mother, something twisted in his chest.
She ran.
And he was left standing there, heart pounding, wondering why it suddenly felt like he’d done something wrong just by existing.
Later, when he cried into his grandmother’s dress, he told himself he hated her.
The girl who called him a bulldog.
The girl who ran away.
The girl who, somehow, had already become unforgettable.
- Writer
