He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Christian’s eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange across the table.

He kept his gaze locked on Richard, his index finger tapping a slow rhythm against the wood as he tried to dissect the lie behind the man’s calm demeanor.

He knew Richard was up to something. Richard’s words felt staged. He was trying to fool him.

He certainly did not expect anyone in the room to believe that Vance Enterprises would simply throw away an advantage and let him walk away without prosecution. It was absolute nonsense, a clumsy bluff designed to make him sweat.

As if catching the thread of Christian’s thoughts, Richard gave a brief nod. A faint smile curved his lips, calm and infuriatingly composed.

Christian’s brow furrowed instantly, the skin between his eyes pulling tight. "So you expect me to sit here and believe that you will just let me off the hook after all this?" he asked, glaring across the space separating them.

Richard interlaced his long fingers on the smooth tabletop and offered another slow nod. "Yes, Christian. That is precisely what I am telling you."

Christian looked at Richard, then swept his eyes across the room, taking in the passive faces of the board members before settling briefly on Roxanne. A harsh, dry scoff broke from his chest.

"I am no fool, just so you know," he said, giving his head a sharp shake as his mind raced to piece the puzzle together. "Tell me one thing. If your plan was to let me walk out of here, why did you go through the immense trouble of putting together those records?"

"We gathered everyone here for a negotiation," Henry spoke up from the head of the table, his weathered face unreadable. "Nothing more, nothing less."

Christian’s gaze darted to the older man, his chest rising and falling in shallow hitches. His instinct warned him that he was stepping into a trap.

The air in the room felt thick, almost heavy, smelling faintly of old paper and lukewarm tea.

"If you sign the agreement we have prepared for you, we will drop the matter entirely," Richard said before Christian could fully process Henry’s words. "That is the deal on the table."

It still made no logical sense to him. Why would a man like Richard Vance offer a truce when he claimed to hold all the cards?

Then Christian noticed the sudden shift in Roxanne’s posture. Her dark eyes widened slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line as she stared at Richard. She had not known about this either.

The subtle rift between them was real, a crack in their united front that made Christian’s pulse quicken with fresh calculation.

He shifted his weight in the leather chair, pulling his shoulders back to project an air of complete control. "Tell me what this deal entails, and I will decide if it is worth my time," he said, keeping his hands still so Richard would not catch them shaking.

Richard turned toward the board chairman with a silent gesture. The older executive reached into his leather briefcase, pulled out a fresh folder, and slid it across the polished wood.

Christian’s eyes tracked the paper as it glided across the mahogany, his heart thumping hard against his ribs before he even saw a single line of text.

He stared at the black cover, his mind racing through the possibilities. It could be an admission of guilt, a financial surrender, or something far worse.

"Take a look," Richard said, interrupting the silence as he nudged the folder an inch closer.

Christian swallowed hard, his throat dry as the folder settled directly in front of him. The sound of his own heavy breathing seemed to echo in his ears, masking the quiet hum of the air conditioner overhead.

With reluctant fingers, he flipped open the heavy cover. The typed lines on the white page blurred together under the harsh fluorescent lights. His eyes strained to focus as a cold knot tightened in his stomach, the legal jargon swirling before him.

"All you need to do is sign that document," Richard said, his tone entirely even.

Christian snapped his head up, his eyes narrowing. He could hear the unspoken catch lingering in the quiet room. Richard was far from finished.

"And what else?" Christian asked, his voice tight.

Richard offered a small smile that barely reached his eyes. "And then you carry on with your life. But first, you will issue a complete retraction of your previous statements, record a public video apology to this board, and state clearly that your videos were nothing more than a personal vendetta because you are a bitter, sore loser."

Christian’s jaw set into a hard line. A sore loser? The insult burned through his veins like acid.

He turned his head sharply toward Roxanne, searching her face for any sign of sympathy or hesitation. She looked entirely calm, her fingers rigid where they rested on the table.

She could not have agreed to this humiliation. Deep down, he convinced himself that she still harbored some residual warmth for him, some lingering memory of their shared history that would prevent her from watching him be destroyed.

"If you agree to those conditions, you walk out of this building a free man," Richard added, his voice steady as he held Christian’s glare.

Christian drummed his fingers against the table again, his mind frantically analyzing every angle.

Richard leaned back in his high-backed chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "So, Christian, what is your choice?" he asked, his words carrying a quiet edge of mockery. "Do we call the police and hand over the evidence, or will you accept our offer?"

Christian looked down at the document, then back at Richard. This was not a real choice, nor was it a fair negotiation. They had backed him into a corner, using the threat of a prison cell to force his compliance.

He reached up, rubbing his thumb along the sharp edge of his jaw as he weighed his options.

If he refused, he faced an immediate arrest, a trial, and years behind bars. But if he signed, he bought himself precious time.

If he signed, he’d walk out. And if he walked out, he could disappear. Then he could get a new passport, a new country, new accounts. And once he reached safety, he could easily release another video claiming the Vance family had coerced him under distress.

It was an obvious exit strategy, a clean escape that turned their arrogance into his ultimate weapon.

Richard was smart, but not smart enough.

He raised his eyes from the folder, meeting Richard’s watchful gaze. The man looked like a predator closing in on its prey. Christian almost laughed. The man had no idea the prey had already found an escape route.

A small, triumphant smile spread slowly across Christian’s face as he picked up the pen resting beside the folder. "I accept," he said, looking Richard dead in the eye.

Richard’s gaze narrowed slightly. He tapped two fingers against the table, then went entirely still. "A wise decision."

Christian held back a laugh as he pressed the pen point to the signature line. Not just a wise decision, Richard. A brilliant one.

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