He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Christian’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the dark binder resting between them. "What is in the file?" he asked, his voice strained.

Richard’s dark eyes narrowed, a dangerous spark glinting in their depths. "Why don’t you open it and see?" he replied softly, his face a picture of absolute composure as he watched Christian squirm.

Christian pulled his hands back from the table, staring at the leather cover as if it were laced with poison. His chest hitched in shallow bursts. Something isn’t right here. Do they know?

Beside Richard, Roxanne leaned forward slightly, her shoulder lightly brushing against Richard’s arm. Her eyes were fixed entirely on Christian, burning with anticipation.

"Are you no longer interested in hearing our terms, Mr. Westbrook?" the board chairman interjected, his voice heavy with authority as the entire room watched Christian’s face turn an unsightly shade of pale.

Christian glanced at the chairman before dragging his eyes back to the folder. He brought one trembling hand back to the table, his fingers tapping a fast, frantic rhythm against the polished wood.

"Of course I want to see it," he muttered, his pulse hammering like a trapped bird against his ribs.

"Then open it," Richard said, his tone entirely even.

Christian forced his lips into a tight smirk as his fingers finally made contact with the cold leather edge. They have nothing, he told himself frantically. Richard Vance might be thorough, but even he couldn’t have dug up—

He caught Richard watching him, those unblinking eyes tracking his every micro-expression. Christian paused, a cold bead of sweat breaking out along his hairline.

"Whatever is in here better be worth my time," he blustered, exhaling a ragged breath.

Silence blanketed the room. No one moved. No one drew a loud breath. Every eye remained locked on Christian’s hand.

Then Christian flipped the heavy cover open. His eyes scanned the top header of the first page, and the color instantly drained from his face. His jaw slackened.

There it was. The confidential audit report he had spent four agonizing years burying under layers of shell companies and fake names. How did this get here? Who gave this to them?

A slow smile spread across Roxanne’s lips. Watching Christian’s arrogance drain away in real time felt sweeter than the judge’s verdict ever had.

"You are more than welcome to turn to the second page if the overview isn’t clear enough," Richard’s voice sliced through the heavy quiet, smooth as silk and cold as ice.

Christian swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly bone-dry. If he remembered the structure of those files correctly, page two was where the nightmare truly began. His fingers shook as he forced himself to turn the sheet over.

The numbers at the bottom of the ledger jumped out at him in dark, bold print. Ten million. The exact sum the overseas client had wire-transferred into the unlisted offshore account. His vision swam as a wave of nausea hit him square in the chest.

How did they find it? This paper trail was scrubbed.

Christian’s frantic gaze darted around the table. Did Roxanne find it? No, she never had access to his private drives. His eyes snapped across the table to Amelia. Her. It had to be her. But Amelia had been loyal to him for years. She wouldn’t dare betray him. He narrowed his eyes. Or would she?

Richard leaned back slightly, his expression relaxed, like a grandmaster watching his opponent walk directly into a checkmate.

"It appears you recognize these records quite well, Christian," Richard noted, his voice carrying clearly across the silent boardroom.

Christian looked at Roxanne first, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard it felt painful. Her expression was utterly serene, her eyes shining with cold satisfaction.

Desperate, he turned his glare toward Richard. "I don’t know what any of this is," he lied, forcing a harsh, unnatural laugh. "Why are you showing me random financial statements?"

Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly, clocking the weak performance instantly. He leaned one elbow on the table, resting his chin lightly against his hand as he studied the breaking man across from him.

"There is a third page," Richard said softly. "I suspect it will clear up whatever sudden fog has settled over your memory."

Christian tried to pull his hand back, but his muscles refused to cooperate. With a trembling thumb, he flipped to the final sheet.

The blood in his veins ran ice-cold.

Staring back at him was the original wire authorization form, complete with a high-resolution scan of the forged corporate seal and the exact routing codes used to divert the funds.

The proof of his fraud was spelled out in painful, unassailable detail.

Christian ran a shaking, sweat-slicked hand through his hair, disheveling his neat side-part. No. No, no. This file should not exist. I burned every copy. I destroyed the emails. The shell company dissolved three years ago. So where did Richard get this?

Panic clawed at his throat as he searched his mind for a lie, any lie, that could pull him out of the fire.

Richard smiled, the gesture razor-thin. "You look confused, so allow me to walk you through it," he said, his deep voice filling the room with effortless command. "What you are looking at is a binding executive agreement bearing my forged signature on a deal that required the president’s clearance. The proposal never reached my desk, nor did the ten-million-dollar investment ever touch a Vance Enterprises account. But we managed to track the money anyway."

Christian swallowed against the thick knot in his throat, his breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches.

Richard interlaced his long fingers over the table, his eyes locking onto Christian with absolute finality.

"The funds were deposited directly into a private account you opened under a fraudulent business name while using your position at this company," Richard continued, pausing just long enough to let the weight of his words crush whatever hope Christian had left. "Which brings us to the question everyone at this table is waiting for you to answer."

Christian stared back, his chest heaving as a cold sweat soaked through his shirt.

"You forged my signature, siphoned corporate assets, and impersonated an officer of this company," Richard said, his voice dropping into a deadly register that echoed off the walls. "What do you think happens to you now?"

Christian opened his mouth. Nothing came out. For the first time in years, he had absolutely no lie left.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!