After My Boyfriend Lost His Memory, He Became a Devoted Lover

The day Henry was discharged from the hospital, a nurse approached me with an envious smile.

“Did you know? When Mr. Scott was unconscious in the operating room, he kept calling out for Sienna—your name. Ever since you’ve been here, his recovery has been remarkably fast.”

I returned her smile but said nothing.

I am not Sienna.

—

After his discharge, Henry was in an unusually good mood.

“Lianna went on a trip recently. This time, you can finally come to my house without sneaking around,” he beamed.

Before his car accident, I had lied to him, saying I was going on a month-long vacation.

In truth, I had returned home to sign an agreement to relinquish my inheritance rights.

Even though Henry was wealthy, his fortune paled in comparison to my family’s business empire.

My parents looked down on him and insisted on finding me a partner of equal standing.

When I refused, they threatened to cut me off financially if I stayed with him.

In love, I’d always been the type to quietly sacrifice, so I never told Henry how much I’d given up to be with him.

But before I could finalize the agreement, I learned about his car accident. Without a second thought, I boarded the next flight to see him.

Just as we approached the door of his house, he suddenly reached under the doormat and pulled out a key.

Handing it to me, he said, “You always like to hide the spare key here. How many times have I told you to keep it safe?”

I froze for a moment before forcing a smile.

I had bought the lock for this house myself, and there were only two keys.

I never knew he had given Sienna one as well.

Once inside, I instinctively reached for my house slippers, only to be stopped by Henry.

“Don’t wear those; they belong to Lianna. She’s a germaphobe,” he said, quickly taking the slippers from me and carefully placing them back in the shoe cabinet.

Then, as if recalling something else, he added, “And remember, there’s a rabbit-themed cup in the kitchen. Don’t use it—it’s Lianna’s favorite. I bought it especially for her.”

Hearing his words, I couldn’t suppress the bitterness rising in my chest.

Feigning a pout in Sienna’s tone, I asked, “I’ve been with you for so long. When will you give me an official title?”

He squinted at me, his gaze cold and warning. “Sienna, having fun is one thing. Marriage is another. Lianna is my future wife—that will never change.”

Realizing his tone was harsh, he softened his expression and pulled me into his arms. “As long as you behave, I’ll give you anything you want—except the title.”

Then, leaning close, he bit my ear lightly and whispered conspiratorially, “You’ve always hated sneaking around when you come to my house. Well, guess what? This house is yours now. I secretly transferred the ownership to you. Lianna doesn’t know a thing.”

I said nothing, my mind swirling with anger and disbelief.

Henry, however, didn’t notice my silence. Instead, he ran his hands over me, moving with practice ease. Suddenly, he reached for an inconspicuous section of the wall and revealed a hidden compartment I never knew existed.

From it, he pulled out a pristine condom. Inside the compartment were dozens of used ones.

There must have been over a hundred.

In my absence, they had shamelessly indulged in their depravity—in my bed, no less.

Coming back to my senses, I grabbed his wandering hand to stop him.

Seeing this, he mistook my actions, pinning my hand beneath his.

“Don’t make a fuss. The only woman I’ll ever have a child with is Lianna.”

Hearing this, I shook my head, trying to suppress the storm of emotions within me.

“I’m still on my period,” I murmured.

He seemed unfazed by my words. “It doesn’t matter. Battling through blood is nothing new for us.”