He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

The line rang once, twice, and then the line clicked connected.

"Hello, Roxanne?" Richard’s voice vibrated through the speaker, deep and warm.

A sudden, hot lump formed in Roxanne’s throat, making her swallow hard. "I’m free. Finally," she managed to breathe out, her eyes glistening as tears threatened to spill over her lashes again. "I’m a free woman, Richard."

"That’s incredible news," Richard said, but she caught the strain beneath the warmth in his voice. "We have to celebrate."

"Yes, we absolutely do," Roxanne said, a wide grin breaking across her face even as a single tear escaped down her cheek. "But first, I’m going to make sure the entire world knows. Harry is already starting the paperwork to officially strip away Christian’s last name."

"Sounds like a solid plan," Richard replied.

Roxanne paused, her hand tightening around the phone. Beneath the surface of his calm tone, she caught a subtle edge. "Is everything okay, Richard?"

A heavy silence stretched across the line for a heartbeat. In the background, she could hear faint, overlapping voices and the muffled rustle of papers.

"It sounds like you’re in the middle of something," Roxanne said softly. "I can let you go—"

"Not at all," Richard exhaled, the sound low and rough. "Are you heading home, or coming by the office?"

Roxanne’s brows pulled together in a tight crease. "I was planning to drive straight to the office so I could see you in person, but if now isn’t a good time—"

"Everything is fine, Roxanne," he cut in smoothly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him.

"No, it isn’t," she insisted, her heart picking up speed. "Tell me what’s happening."

Richard let out a sharp breath. "Alright. Why don’t you come over, and I’ll fill you in on the details the moment you get here."

"Fine," Roxanne said. "I’m on my way."

The call ended with a soft click. Roxanne slid the phone back into her handbag, her pulse quickening. She knew Richard’s voice too well. He was hiding something. But she hoped it was nothing serious.

Taking a slow, grounding breath, she walked over to where Harry and Theodore were waiting by the curb.

"I need to head to the office," she said, her voice instantly shifting into a more professional tone.

Theodore tilted his head, studying her face. "I thought we were going to take this old man somewhere nice to your freedom properly today. But I understand if work is calling. I should probably get back to the hotel anyway."

Roxanne offered a small, appreciative smile. "We will celebrate, Theo, I promise. I just need to get to Vance Enterprises first. Something’s wrong. Richard tried to hide it, but I know him too well."

Both men nodded in understanding.

"I’ll stay behind at the courthouse," Harry said, adjusting his suit jacket. "I have another hearing scheduled, and I want to file your name-change petition right away. Take care of yourself, Roxanne. And congratulations. You earned this."

"Thank you, Harry. For everything," she said, squeezing his arm. She turned to Theodore. "Come on, Theo. I’ll drop you off on my way."

Half an hour later, Roxanne’s car pulled up to the glass facade of the Vance Enterprises tower. The moment the reporters sighted her, they instantly swarmed her car.

Flashbulbs popped like blinding strobe lights against the windshield. Camera crews and reporters surged forward, blocking the curb.

Roxanne sighed, shifting the car into park. There was no avoiding them. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her bag, smoothed her blouse, and opened the door.

The moment her heels hit the pavement, Richard’s security team pushed through the crowd, forming a tight, moving shield around her.

"Ma’am! One question. Is it true you divorced your husband just because you wanted to pursue a relationship with his boss, Mr. Richard Vance?" a reporter shouted over the din, shoving a foam-covered microphone toward her face.

A collective hush fell over the crowd as dozens of lenses aimed straight at her.

Roxanne didn’t flinch. She did not look at the man. She just kept her chin high and kept walking.

She had just won the biggest battle of her life and she wasn’t about to waste her voice defending herself to strangers. Not today.

She had barely taken five steps toward the glass doors when another voice sliced through the noise.

"Miss Ashwood!" a female journalist called out, her tone sharp yet genuinely curious. "Can you tell us how it feels to finally be free from a controlling man like your former husband, Mr. Christian Westbrook?"

Roxanne stopped dead in her tracks. A sudden, blooming warmth spread through her chest. Slowly, she turned around to face the reporter.

"So many women in your position never get to see the justice you were handed today," the journalist continued, holding out her recorder. "What does this freedom mean to you?"

Former husband. The words echoed in Roxanne’s mind, sweet and intoxicating. She walked back toward the press line, stepping right up to the microphone.

"To be completely honest, I still don’t have the full words to describe how it feels," Roxanne said, her clear voice carrying over the crowd. "It feels entirely surreal. But one thing I know for certain is that from this moment on, I am living my life unapologetically. I’m done caring about public opinion or bitter accusations. My happiness was stolen from me for six years, and I will never let anyone take it again."

"Are you referring to your ex-husband’s claims in court?" another reporter interjected.

Roxanne offered a cool smile. "You have a job to do out here, and I have mine inside." She turned on her heel to leave. "So, excuse me."

"One last question, Miss Ashwood!" a man near the front called out. "Do you plan on finally pursuing and going public with your relationship with Mr. Vance, your boss?"

Roxanne paused, glancing back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with quiet amusement. "I believe there’s a reason it’s called a private life. It means I intend to keep it private."

"Many people believe your appointment came from sleeping with your billionaire boss. What do you say to them?" the reporter asked.

"Nothing," Roxanne replied calmly.

"Aren’t you concerned that not saying anything will make them assume the worst?" The reporter asked, his brows furrowing.

Roxanne’s smile widened, sharp and full of absolute confidence. "I am not at all concerned. Time will tell," she said smoothly, turning away for good and walking through the sliding glass doors with light, effortless strides.

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