It was at the London airport, the day before her return home.
It happened to be a time of heavy fog in London, causing all flights to be delayed. The waiting area was packed with stranded passengers, and she was among them.
The fog lingered, reminding people of the great fog from fifty years ago, which had claimed the lives of over ten thousand people. The atmosphere in the waiting area grew increasingly tense and uneasy.
At this moment, a sobbing sound suddenly echoed through the crowd. Though it wasn't loud, it was enough to escalate the panic already building in the restless crowd.
She had been sitting quietly, reading to calm her nerves, when the sound of crying caught her attention. Frowning, she looked over to where it came from. The sobbing was from a girl, sitting diagonally across from her, clinging to a man's chest, helplessly crying.
"The fog hasn't cleared for so long. Could it be toxic? I don't want to die. What will happen to my parents and my brother…"
The man beside her was strikingly handsome, well-dressed, and had a strong presence. The girl, in comparison, seemed much more delicate, though still quite lovely.
The man seemed to care deeply for the girl, holding her in his arms, soothing her softly. But the girl continued to sob, and she felt some impatience and irritation. In a situation like this, such crying would only heighten the panic among the people around them.
The next moment, her gaze met the man's. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, and he seemed to sense her impatience. A look of warning flashed across his brow.
She hadn't expected that her feelings would be so easily read. She had thought she hid them well, but now she felt a bit awkward. She quickly looked away from the man, grabbed her bag, and left. Fortunately, in her hurry to return home, she hadn't packed much luggage.
Later, she moved to a different terminal to continue waiting. Hours passed before the fog finally lifted, and she was able to board her flight home. After that, she never saw the couple again.
Little did she know, their paths would cross again in the future.
At this moment, his words were clearly an attempt to get back at her for the way she had looked at his girlfriend that day. He really did care for the girl, not only giving her a warning glance at the time but also taking this opportunity to mock her.
She felt a mix of frustration and embarrassment. She wasn't someone who often cried, yet here she was, caught in tears in front of him, and now he was making it worse.
She didn't look at him or acknowledge him. Wiping her face dry, she stood up and walked away. After all, he had already said he wouldn't be kind to her, so there was no need to try to please him. It was just a marriage of convenience, nothing more.
When she arrived, she had taken a taxi, but now, as she looked around, the street was empty with not a single car in sight. She had no choice but to continue walking.
Behind her, Louis Donald was absolutely livid at her indifferent attitude. He had already been irritated with her. His trip to England with his girlfriend, Tiffany, had been abruptly cut short when his grandfather had urgently called him back, and now he was being forced to marry her. But look at her attitude—acting like the Donald family was the one begging her to marry them. Didn't she realize that the Portman family was the one asking for the marriage?
After storming off in anger earlier, he realized he had forgotten something and had driven back, only to find her sitting there crying. That moment brought back memories of her disgusted look at the airport in London, and he couldn't help but snap at her.
But his harsh words had no effect—she acted as though he didn't even exist, turning and walking away. His male pride, built up over twenty-five years, was completely shattered. He glared at her stubborn, defiant back and got into his car, driving off in frustration.
At that moment, Natasha Portman, her head lowered, walked dejectedly down the street, when the sound of a car horn blared from behind. That same man's voice, persistent as ever, rang out again.
"Still no boyfriend, huh? Since we're about to become husband and wife, let me give you a kind reminder: with your foul and stubborn personality, no man will ever like you!"
Any girl would be angry hearing such degrading words, and Natasha Portman was no exception.
Annoyed, she turned her head to look at the person in the car: a luxurious, flashy sports car, an arrogant and unruly man, wearing expensive sunglasses, with a smirk on his face as he said those so-called "well-intentioned advice."
But as she looked at him, she suddenly felt a sense of relief. Why should she be angry?
It wasn't like she had never been loved by a man.
Thinking this, she just gave him a faint smile and turned back, continuing on her way with calm composure.
The man, however, didn't give up and seemed to be genuinely concerned.
"Do you want a ride?"
She ignored him and kept walking.
"You should know, it's rare to find a taxi around here. If you keep walking, it'll take you at least half an hour to get to a busier street!"
She was determined not to get in his car and wasn't going to entertain him. She wasn't naïve enough to think he really wanted to give her a ride. If she did get in, who knew how he would mock her?
"Don't say I didn't warn you, goodbye!"
The man said this with apparent amusement, then the roar of an engine sounded. The next second, the flashy sports car disappeared down the road. She couldn't help but feel that there was a hint of schadenfreude in his words.
But, he wasn't wrong. After walking for a while, she was still in the expensive villa district, her feet burning with pain. She finally spotted a bus stop, but after waiting for half an hour, no bus arrived, and there wasn't a taxi in sight. She had no choice but to continue walking.
By the time she finally managed to catch a ride, she was utterly exhausted.
The old master of the Donald family was anxious, and as soon as Natasha Portman left, he sent out news of the impending union between the Donald and Portman families. At this point, everyone knew that the marriage was a business arrangement, one born out of mutual interest, not love. But the old master of the Donald family, in his announcement, claimed: "The two children have been childhood sweethearts, and their marriage was inevitable."
Louis Donald was furious and immediately called to question,
"Who's a childhood sweetheart with her?"
Although the Portman family had helped the Donald family, that favor was only spoken of by the old master of the Donald family. He wasn't close to the Portman family, nor had he ever met Natasha Portman.
"How can they not be childhood sweethearts? Our two families have been close for generations—"
The old master knew his explanation was forced, but before he could finish, his son rudely interrupted him,
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to. You're just trying to provoke Tiffany, aren't you? Let me tell you, from now on, stay out of this! Or I'll run away from the wedding to spite you!"
"You little brat, you—"
The old master of the Donald family was about to scold him but then shifted to a more pleading tone, saying with deep concern,
"Sigh, I just can't stand that Tiffany. How could your taste be so bad?"
Louis Donald scoffed,
"I know, you've got great taste—back then you had your eye on a famous beauty from Seattle. Too bad she married someone else!"
"You brat, what nonsense are you talking about?"
The old master was angry, but Louis Donald hit a nerve.
"Don't think I don't know about your feelings for Natasha Portman's mother, back when you were young. If you hadn't been so obsessed with her, would Mom have been so upset that she took me and my sister to live abroad?"
The "famous beauty from Seattle" that Louis Donald referred to was Linda, Natasha Portman's mother. Back in the day, Linda was stunningly beautiful and attracted many prominent young men, including the old master of the Donald family. But in the end, Linda chose Franklin Portman.
Harris M. Donald had once harbored a one-sided, unrequited love for Linda. His passionate feelings had quietly faded after Linda married into the Portman family. Later, he married and had children, living a peaceful life of his own.
A few years ago, after drinking too much, he accidentally called out Linda's name. His wife, Jennifer, was furious and took their daughter abroad, refusing to return home except for holidays.
He tried explaining multiple times, but it was no use. The truth was, he hadn't been unable to forget; it was just that first love left a deep, indelible scar in his heart. He had been a little sentimental while drunk, that was all.
The old master was thoroughly angered, having his sensitive spot exposed.
"Shut up! That's all in the past!"
"Fine, we won't mention the past, but since you want me to marry Natasha Portman, shouldn't you ask my mom to come back and arrange the wedding? I wonder how she'd react when she finds out her son is marrying the daughter of his former rival."
Louis Donald said this with a cold tone, clearly enjoying the drama. The old master was so angry he hung up the phone.
That brat was deliberately poking at his sore spot, but he really should consider how to bring Jennifer back to handle his son's wedding.