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

Sienna remained seated after Tom said he needed time.

The urge to push him rose immediately. She wanted to tell him that waiting was a luxury she did not have, that every hour of unchecked speculation cost her more than he seemed to understand. The words sat ready on her tongue. She forced them back down because of what Amanda had advised her on.

The public relations officer’s message was still clear in her mind. Civility, calmness and politeness.

Sienna exhaled slowly.

"Don’t let it be too long," she said.

Tom gave a short nod and left the living room.

She sat alone afterward, her eyes fixed on the folder still lying on the table. Being patient with him felt unnatural. This was a man she still believed had taken advantage of a drunken night and stepped into a life far above his own. Having to wait for his answer, instead of setting the terms herself, grated against everything she was used to.

She swallowed hard, as if swallowing down her annoyance.

"Anything to save my brand." She muttered to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom walked back into his room and immediately, he closed his bedroom door behind him, the System chimed in;

[So?] [What do you intend to do about your wife’s situation?] Its tone was light, curious rather than cutting.

Tom walked toward the window as he replied. "I want to help her."

[Why?] The system asked simply, not sounding judgmental.

He didn’t answer at once. He took a moment.

"Because I loved her once. That doesn’t vanish completely. And because I agreed to this arrangement. I played the part. If I refuse to help now and it all collapses, I don’t get to pretend I had nothing to do with it. And that will haunt me." Tom said.

[So Host feels responsible?]

"Something like that."

[Will you continue as the live-in husband the way things were?]

"No. Of course not." Tom’s answer was immediate. "It won’t be the same."

[How?]

"You wait. You will see how I will handle it. I’m going to handle it well this time around." He replied.

A faint note of amusement entered the System’s voice. [Host, will you be able to set boundaries with your first crush and hold them?]

Tom’s jaw tightened slightly. "She was my crush then. Not now. Not after seeing who she really is."

[Really?]

"Yes."

[But you still care.]

"I care the way a human cares about a fellow human another. Not the way a man in love does." he maintained firmly.

[Uh-oh. If you insist thenl] [Just don’t confuse the two when it begins to cost you.] The System’s tone remained light

Tom didn’t reply. He stayed by the window for a moment longer before moving to finish what he needed to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

By lunchtime, the house felt unusually still.

Tom was called to the dining hall by the kitchen assistant. When he arrived, Sienna was already seated at the table. Food had been served. She was not on a call, not issuing instructions, not preparing to leave for the office. She was simply waiting.

Tom stopped inside the doorway.

"You didn’t go to work," he said it more like a statement than a question.

"No." Sienna looked up at him, the civility on her face was carefully arranged.

"Consider this a late brunch. Which allows us to finish our conversation."

"I believe you’ve finished pondering on it?" She added, unable to hide the urgency in her tone.

After a brief pause, he nodded then took the seat across from her.

They began eating in a silence that felt intentional rather than comfortable. Sienna was the first to set her utensils down.

"So what have you decided?" she asked. Her tone was measured, but there was effort behind it.

Tom wiped his mouth, then met her eyes.

"I’ll stay," he said. "I’ll play the role of your husband for the next three months, through the launch and the period after it."

Relief crossed her face before she could fully contain it.

"And your terms?" she asked. "Property? Shares? A fixed payment? You can name it. Anything."

"None of that."

Sienna blinked. For a moment she simply looked at him, as if waiting for the real condition to follow.

"...You’re serious?" she asked. "You don’t want money. Or shares. Or anything of that sort."

"I’m serious."

She sat back slightly, disbelief still clear in her expression. Of all the things she had prepared herself to negotiate, a refusal of payment had not been one of them. In her mind, men in his position always named a price. That he had not done so left her briefly off-balance.

"Then what do you want?" she asked at last.

Tom held her gaze. "I’m staying because I choose to help you. Not because you’re purchasing my cooperation." He let the words settle. "But I do have conditions."

Sienna straightened. "Name them."

He spoke calmly, without heat.

"First, you treat me with basic respect. Formally. Politely. The way you would treat a man you contracted for a serious arrangement, not like someone you can raise your voice at whenever you’re frustrated."

"Not someone you treat like a domestic staff. I’m not a staff. I’m a man whose help you need."

Her fingers tightened against the edge of the table, then loosened again. The instruction landed poorly on her pride, but she did not interrupt.

"Second, you give me space. Real space. No entering my room without notice or sort." Tom continued without waiting for her to reply.

"Third, you don’t interfere in my business. What I do with my time or anything outside the appearances we agree on is not your concern."

"And last," he said, "our interactions stay formal. If you need me for a public appearance, you inform me ahead of time so I can check my schedule. No sudden demands."

The dining hall was quiet when he finished.

Sienna processed the conditions one by one. None of them were extravagant. That was what made them difficult. They were limited, practical, and aimed directly at the way she had handled him since the beginning. Accepting them meant accepting that she could no longer deal with him as she pleased.

At last she gave a short nod.

"I understand."

Then she stood, smoothed the front of her dress, and extended her hand across the table with a deliberate formality. The gesture looked correct but it did not look natural.

"Thank you, Mr. Harlow."

Tom rose and shook her hand. The contact was brief, strictly for business.

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