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

While Tom turned around on his bed,

Sienna stood by the window of her bedroom with her phone still in one hand. She was looking at the report sent to her.

The bodyguard’s report had been short and useless. Tom had driven around the city for a while, stopped nowhere important, and come straight back home. No meetings. No suspicious stops. Nothing.

She locked the phone and set it on the windowsill harder than necessary.

Without mimicking words, she analyzed that the man downstairs was not the Tom Harlow she had pointed at across a noisy bar one month ago. The quiet, careful bartender who kept his eyes down and accepted whatever she said was gone. In his place was someone who laughed in her face, read her lies, drove off in a car she still couldn’t explain, and spoke to her like he had the right.

The confusion was heavy in her chest. She turned away from the window and sat on her makeup chair, staring into the dressing mirror while the memory of that morning rose whether she wanted it or not.

FLASHBACK

She had woken up with a dry mouth and a splitting headache.

Sunlight cut through the curtains and landed straight across her face. For a few seconds she only lay there, trying to piece together the night before - the bar, the bottles, Suzanne and Rebecca laughing too loudly, the stupid game that had started as a joke. Then she became aware of the warm weight beside her and the unfamiliar scent of a man on her sheets.

Sienna’s eyes snapped open.

Tom was asleep on his back, still fully clothed, one arm slightly trapped under her.

She screamed.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

Tom jerked awake so hard he nearly fell off the bed. His eyes were wide and startled. Before he could speak she scrambled back against the headboard, clutching the sheet to her chest even though she was still dressed.

"What the hell are you doing in my room? Who the fuck are you?"

Tom sat up carefully. His hands raised a little as if to show he wasn’t a threat. His voice came out rough from sleep but still gentle.

"I didn’t break in." He began.

"You were drunk. Your friends couldn’t drive. I brought you home and you... pulled me down when I tried to leave. You fell asleep. And I didn’t want to wake you, so I stayed still. Nothing happened. I swear."

Sienna stared at him. The headache pounded harder. Disgust and panic mixed in her stomach. A lowly bartender in her bed? In her house? The same man her friends had laughed about while they pushed drinks into her hand.

"Get out," she said in a loud, sharp voice. "Get off my property and don’t look back."

Tom’s face tightened, but he nodded and started to stand. He even opened his mouth to apologize again. But before he could, her phone chimed on the nightstand.

Sienna snatched it up, grateful for the distraction. The screen was full of notifications. Messages from Suzanne. Missed calls. News alerts.

She opened the first article.

’Celebrity designer Sienna Kensington proposes to bartender fiancé - wedding expected today.’

There were photos. Blurry ones from the bar. Her own face, flushed and laughing, finger pointed across the room. Tom standing in front of the booth. Headlines already spinning the story into something neat and romantic.

The blood drained from her face.

Two million dollars!

That was the first thing that crossed her mind.

It was the investment from the mayor’s daughter - the international model who had agreed to back her first lingerie collection and walk in the launch. That was sitting on a contract that could still be pulled. A messy public scandal about a drunken proposal to a random bartender would give them every reason to walk away. The launch was in two months. Everything she had built was tied to it.

Tom was still standing by the bed, waiting, looking confused and a little hurt.

"I should go," he said quietly. "I’m sorry for the trouble."

"You’re not going anywhere." Sienna’s voice came out harder than Tom expected. She swung her legs off the bed, ignored the way her head spun, and shoved the phone toward his face. "Fix this."

Tom blinked at the screen. "Fix what?"

"This." She shook the phone once again. "Do you have any idea what a scandal like this will cost me? The investment. The launch. My name. Can you pay two million dollars plus damages if they pull out because of your face next to mine in every gossip column?"

Tom’s mouth opened, then closed. "I don’t... I don’t understand." he muttered, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Of course he didn’t. Sienna let out a short, bitter sound and dragged a hand through her tangled hair.

"Of course you don’t. You’re a bartender who saw a rich drunk woman and thought he’d hit the lottery. You should have refused me. You saw I was drunk and you still said yes. What did you think was going to happen?"

Tom’s face had gone pale, but his voice stayed even. "I said yes because I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. And because... I didn’t hate the idea."

"But here’s one fact, I wasn’t thinking about your money when I accepted the proposal."

"And you think any sensible person would believe that lie you are spewing?" Sienna let out a sharp laugh devoid of humor. She turned away from him, pacing the length of the room while her headache throbbed in time with her pulse. The articles were still lighting up her phone. The story was already moving faster than she could contain it.

She stopped and looked at him again.

"You’re going to fix it," she said.

"You’re going to walk into that registry with me this morning, we’re going to sign whatever they put in front of us, and you’re going to live here as my husband until the launch is over. Two months. Maybe three. Long enough for the story to become old news and the collection to release without a scandal attached."

Tom was silent for a long moment. She watched him swallow, watched the conflict move across his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm.

"Alright. If that’s what you need to protect your work, I’ll do it. I don’t want to see you lose everything over one night."

Sienna stared at him. The sincerity in his tone only made her more irritated. She hated that he pretended so good it seemed real. But she knew better.

"Don’t pretend this is about protecting me. Name your price now so we both know what this is." she said.

"I don’t want your money." Tom replied flatly.

She studied him for several seconds, then gave a slow, cold nod. "Fine. Keep pretending. I’ll be watching. Sooner or later you’ll show your real face and start demanding compensation. Men like you always do."

She turned away before he could answer and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door harder than necessary. Behind her, the bedroom stayed quiet.

END OF FLASHBACK

Sienna shook her head as if to shake off the memory.

The memory confirmed for her that that quiet, careful man who had apologized even while she insulted him was not the same person who had looked her in the eye that morning, called out her lies, and driven off in a car she still couldn’t understand how he got. The change was too sharp.

Her mouth tightened.

He was tired of playing the patient, harmless husband.

That was the only explanation that made sense to Sienna. With the launch getting closer he must have decided the soft act had lasted long enough. Now he was switching methods - pushing boundaries, borrowing expensive things he shouldn’t be able to afford, speaking to her like he had power... all of it leading up to the moment he finally named his real price.

Sienna stood up and walked back to the window. The black Mercedes was still parked below, gleaming in the light like an intentional provocation.

She would not wait for him to make the next move.

If Tom Harlow thought he could grow wings under her roof, she would cut them down before the launch arrived.

Sienna concluded and lifted her chin.

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