A beautiful story of Natasha and David.
Where they become Enemies-to-Lovers... from hating each other to the core.. to loving each other and protecting from their past...
What do you think will they become one?
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Ash...
"Happy Birthday Sweetheart" Henry said really happy and excited.. He paced around the room, phone still in hand, his voice warm and sweet..
Meanwhile, Amy, who was in the adjoining dacha, paused mid-skincare routine when she heard the word sweetheart. Her ears perked up, her attention completely diverted from the face mask she was applying. The word hung in the air.
She quickly wiped her hands, leaving her routine half-done, and walked into their room, just in time to see Henry hanging up the call. His expression was unreadable, and the act of him ending the call as soon as she entered only fueled her curiosity—and, though she wouldn't admit it, a faint flicker of irritation.
“Did you hang up because I came in suddenly?” Amy asked, her tone casual, though her narrowed eyes betrayed her suspicion.
Henry looked at her, amused by her sudden interest in his call. “What? No! I hung up because the person I was talking to was busy. She said she’d call me later.”
Amy's brow shot up at the word she. Her mind began racing. So, it was a she, she thought, crossing her arms over her chest. Trying to sound indifferent, she continued, “And who exactly did you call sweetheart?” She couldn’t help but emphasize the word, her voice dripping with mockery.
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Henry smirked at her, leaning casually against the edge of the bed. “Why do you want to know? Are you feeling jealous?” His eyes gleamed mischievously, clearly enjoying the situation.
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“
W-What? Jealous? Me?” Amy spluttered, her cheeks heating up. She forced a laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Why on earth would I be jealous? Don’t flatter yourself, Henry.”
“Sure,” Henry drawled, his grin widening. “Because storming into the room the second you hear me say sweetheart isn’t suspicious at all.”
Amy glared at him, trying to come up with a witty retort but failing miserably. Instead, she turned her back to him, muttering under her breath as she pretended to busy herself with some nonexistent task on the table.
