NTR: The live-in-husband gets a perverted heart system

Tom expected the lady to snap at him or slap him because he was sure there was no way in hell such lines would work on a woman.

"I shouldn’t have listened to that damned system..." He was already regretting his action

However, the reaction of the cashier cut off his thoughts. The lady leaned forward slightly over the counter, giving him an even clearer view of the soft cleavage her uniform barely contained. Her eyes stayed on his, and then her expression became readable. She was looking curious and faintly amused.

"You always this bold or am I special?" she asked in a low voice.

Tom stiffened. For a second the old panic tried to climb up his throat. His mind went blank. He almost looked away but the system didn’t give him the chance.

[Keep going, Host.] The System’s voice slid in, calm and insistent. [She is still listening. Do not freeze now.]

He forced himself to stay where he was. His heart was hammering, but he managed to answer, his voice still quieter than usual.

"I don’t usually... say things like that. But you are making it hard not to." he admitted truthfully.

The girl tilted her head, still leaning on the counter. She studied him for a moment longer, chewing her gum again, slower this time.

"Hard not to what?" she asked.

Tom’s ears burned. He could feel the System’s attention like a weight on the back of his neck, waiting. So he kept going;

"Hard not to notice you. Hard not to wonder what’s under that uniform." he replied and when those words left his mouth, he blinked in disbelief.

A small, surprised laugh left the lady. Not mocking - more like she hadn’t expected him to keep going. She glanced around the empty supermarket, then back at him. Something playful and a little reckless settled in her expression.

"You’re lucky no one’s here," she said.

"Most guys just stare and shut up." she added quietly.

She straightened a little, still smiling, then reached down. With no real hesitation she pinched the side of her work trousers and tugged the waistband out just enough for him to see.

Black lace.

Simple, but clearly not the kind of underwear someone wore for comfort alone. She held the fabric out for a full two seconds, long enough for him to register the color and the delicate edge, before letting it snap back into place against her hip.

She looked up at him again, eyes half-lidded, still smiling that same bored, seductive little smile.

"There. Happy? I was bored anyway. And that cologne you’re wearing is doing something indescribable to me... Indescribably pleasant, I mean." She said and threw him a wink.

Tom’s mouth had gone dry. He stared for a second too long at the panties, then jerked his gaze back up to her face. His face felt hot.

The girl propped her elbow on the counter and rested her chin on her hand.

"So... you gonna give me your number, or was that all talk?"

The question hit him like cold water. Number? She wanted his number. The mission was already complete. He could feel the System’s quiet satisfaction but the conversation had kept going and now she was waiting for an answer.

Tom’s brain short-circuited.

"I- I have to go," he muttered, already grabbing his package. He shoved a few notes onto the counter without counting them properly, more than enough to cover everything, and turned away before she could say anything else.

He heard her soft, surprised laugh behind him as he walked quickly toward the exit, pulse still racing, the black lace burned into the back of his eyelids.

Only when he was outside again, the supermarket doors sliding shut behind him, did the System finally speak.

[Mission complete.]

[+ $6,000]

[+2 Charm]

[+1 Lust]

Tom leaned against the wall for a second, exhaling hard, a dazed little grin pulling at his mouth despite the embarrassment still heating his face.

He had actually done it.

Tom was still leaning against the wall outside the supermarket, bag dangling from his fingers, when the System’s voice returned - lighter this time, almost conversational.

[Host completed the minimum requirement and then fled like a virgin at a strip club. You could have done more. She was already showing you her panties and asking for your number. A little more pressure and you might have walked away with her bent over the stockroom sink.]

Tom scoffed under his breath, pushing off the wall and starting down the pavement.

"I got what the mission asked for. That’s enough." he muttered.

[Enough? Well, For now.] the System replied, sounding faintly amused.

~~~~~~~~

Across the city, the air on the movie set smelled of dust, hot lights, and the faint chemical tang of stage makeup.

Stella Marchetti sat in her private changing room, her legs crossed, a thick script was opened across her lap. The pages were heavily marked with her own notes in clean black ink. She was reading the same scene for the third time, her lips moving silently as she tested the rhythm of the lines, when a soft knock sounded at the door.

Her personal assistant stepped inside without waiting for an answer, a tablet held against her chest.

"Miss Marchetti. Here is the information you requested." the PA informed her.

Stella held out a hand and the woman placed the tablet in it and remained standing, quiet and professional.

The screen was already open to a neatly compiled file. It read;

**Subject: Tom Harlow**

Husband of Sienna Kensington (fashion designer)

Former bartender.

Married under irregular circumstances following a private wager.

No significant personal assets or public career.

Currently resides full-time at the Kensington property.

Very limited social media presence. Rarely appears alongside his wife at events.

Stella scrolled slowly with an unreadable expression. Her eyes moved over the sparse facts, the single dated photograph of a quiet-looking man with lowered eyes, the notes about his near-total absence from Sienna’s public life.

She read every line twice.

When she finally looked up, her face had not changed, but something focused and intent had settled behind her gaze.

"What’s my schedule this evening?" she asked.

The PA checked her own device. "Light. Only one virtual interview at six, already confirmed. Nothing after that."

Stella closed the file with a soft tap of her finger.

"Good. Cancel the interview if it can’t be moved. I will be going somewhere tonight." she said.

The PA only nodded, already making the note. She knew better than to ask where.

Stella set the tablet aside and returned her attention to the script, but her eyes no longer tracked the lines.

Her mind was wandering... To a particular someone.

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