Loving The Cold hearted Billionaire

Natalie's POV

I finish getting ready for work in my bedroom. Taking one final glance at my outfit in the mirror, I step out into the hallway. Instantly, my dog Buddy starts barking and leaping onto me.

"Morning, Buddy," I say with a smile, scratching behind his ears. He barks once more before racing down the staircase. I follow him down toward the kitchen. My family doesn't reside in some grand mansion filled with extravagance. We survive on what we're able to make.

Something mouthwatering fills my nostrils as I enter the kitchen. My mom is preparing breakfast. Grace Hamilton-she works as a baker.

"Good morning, Mom," I greeted her, settling into my seat at the dining table.

"Morning, Nat," she replies, beaming at me.

"Where is everybody?" I ask while serving myself some pancakes.

"Derek is right here," my eighteen-year-old brother announces, strolling into the kitchen shirtless, his hair still damp from his shower.

"Where's your shirt, Derek?" Mom asks, carrying over the remaining pancakes. He gives a careless shrug and drops into his chair.

"Somewhere in my bedroom," he responds, piling the leftover pancakes onto his dish. What an animal.

"Save some for your sisters, you animal," my sixteen-year-old sister says as she enters. I shake my head at our identical reaction. He truly is an animal.

"Then you should move faster, sis," he mumbles through a mouthful of food. Mom smacks the back of his head and prepares my sister Claire's plate herself.

"Learn some manners, Derek," Mom scolds. Claire grins at Mom and accepts the plate, taking a seat beside Derek, who's now shooting daggers at Claire with his eyes. I glance at Mom.

"Where's Dad?" I inquire.

"He's already left for the bakery. There was an early delivery this morning. I'll head over after you all leave," Mom explains while tidying up the kitchen.

"He needs to take better care of his health, Mom," I say with concern.

"I tell him that constantly, but he refuses to listen," she sighs. I turn my attention toward my siblings.

"How's school treating you both?" I ask.

"It's ," Derek mumbles with his mouth crammed full of food. I stomp on his foot beneath the table. He yelps in pain.

"Don't speak like that-it's revolting," I say, narrowing my eyes at my brother.

"You just voiced my exact thought," Claire says, smiling at me.

"Mine's going well," she adds, continuing to eat. We finish our breakfast and say our goodbyes to Mom and Buddy. I watch my brother and sister climb into his vehicle, heading off to school. I slide into my car-or rather, my dad's car-and drive toward my workplace.

Both my siblings attend school. Derek is in his senior year and will soon be heading to college. He has a deep love for football and captains his school's team. He's awaiting news about a scholarship to Stanford University. We can describe him as your typical bad boy-popular and quite the player. He's the spitting image of our father, Richard Hamilton, with brown eyes and brown hair.

And my younger sister Claire is a sophomore. She's performing admirably in her classes. We share similar mindsets. We both inherited Mom's blue eyes, though our hair differs. She received Dad's brown hair while I inherited Mom's dark blonde locks.

My parents operate our family bakery called 'The Golden Crust.' This establishment has been functioning for nearly forty years. My grandfather established it in memory of my grandmother, and eventually my dad assumed control. Dad fell into despair when Grandfather passed away five years ago, but Mom helped him recover. They adore each other deeply. This bakery provides an adequate lifestyle. We manage reasonably well despite occasional challenges.

As for me-Natalie Hamilton, twenty-four years old. I completed my education in business. I've been employed at various smaller firms for two years. And currently, I'm working for one of the top three corporations as an executive assistant to the CEO for ten months. The compensation is excellent.

I arrive at the building within fifteen minutes and exit my vehicle. I wave at my friend Jessica at the reception desk and step into the elevator. I reach my floor and head to my office. I grab the boss's agenda and knock on his door. He calls out, "Come in."

I enter and observe the CEO of this corporation. Dominic Sterling-one of the most sought-after bachelors in Seattle.

"Good morning, sir. Here's your schedule," I say, offering him a smile. He smiles back, his eyes roaming over me.

"Good morning, Miss Hamilton," he says, accepting the folder. He outlines my assignments for the day as I jot down notes.

"Okay, sir. Anything else?" I inquire.

"No, that's everything for today," he says, his gaze still fixed on me. I nod and exit his office. I return to my workspace and search for the file he mentioned. Suddenly, someone embraces me from behind. I gasp in surprise.

"What are you doing tomorrow on Sunday?" a deep voice asks. I relax, recognizing the voice immediately.

"I'm heading to my parents' bakery to assist them. They have a large order to fulfill," I explain, placing my arms over his.

"Can't you visit my place instead? We can stream a movie, or I can take you somewhere," he suggests. I spin around and face Dominic.