He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Roxanne’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Christian from behind the tinted glass of the observation gallery.

He stood stiffly by the podium below, his head tilted in that familiar, agonizing way that meant his mind was calculating every angle. Don’t do anything stupid, Christian.

Beside her, Richard turned his head, his dark brows pulling together into a slight frown. "Are you alright?" he asked, his deep voice low enough that only she could hear.

Roxanne did not look at him. She kept her eyes glued to the floor below, watching the way Christian smoothed the front of his jacket.

"He has that look in his eyes," she murmured, her vision narrowing on her ex-husband. "He is about to do something stupid."

Richard followed her gaze down to the brightly lit stage. "You think so?" he asked, his tone soft. "If he tries to turn this into a spectacle, he will only bury himself deeper."

Roxanne shook her head, her jaw setting into a hard line. "You do not know him like I do, Richard. I know that exact look."

Richard studied her for a long second, taking in the rigid line of her shoulders and the faint tremor in her hands. He placed a hand on her thigh, steadying her.

Roxanne looked at Christian again and nodded. Then she leaned her elbows onto her thighs, resting her chin in her hands as she stared down at him. She did not trust him for a single second. Christian was volatile, driven entirely by his bruised pride, and capable of burning down everything around him in a heartbeat.

Christian cleared his throat, the sound amplifying through the microphone and echoing off the ceilings of the hall. He looked directly into the lens.

"I requested your presence today because there is a truth that requires clarification," he began, pausing to take a deliberate breath. "The sudden media storm of the past few weeks was completely unprecedented, but standing here today, I came to a crucial realization. The Vance family possesses immense influence, and crossing them was a grave mistake."

An instant wave of tension rippled through the elevated gallery. Leather chairs creaked as board members shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to whisper among themselves.

Roxanne closed her eyes for a brief second, letting out a soft breath. Oh, Christian. You are going to regret this deeply.

Beside her, Richard’s posture went entirely rigid. His jaw locked, his dark eyes narrowing into sharp slits as he watched the stage, though he remained completely silent. He did not need to speak. The tight grip of his fists on his chair armrests said everything.

Below, a reporter leaned forward, her brows pulling together in confusion. "Mr. Westbrook," she called out, holding up a microphone. "Are you implying that Vance Enterprises coerced you into making this public statement?"

Christian did not answer immediately. He let the silence stretch, casting another lingering glance toward the glass of the gallery before letting out a dramatic sigh.

Don’t do it, Christian, Roxanne thought, her fingers tapping a fast, frantic beat against her knee as she watched him. Do not ruin yourself completely.

"No," Christian said smoothly, adjusting his stance at the podium. "This burden rests entirely on my shoulders. I ruined my marriage through my own actions, and I came to that realization far too late."

"Then why open with a remark about the Vance family being dangerous?" another reporter cut in, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

Christian’s jaw clenched. "Because I should never have dragged Vance Enterprises or its leadership into my personal failures," he said, his voice dropping into a solemn, rehearsed tone. "I created this conflict myself. I mistreated a good woman. Would you believe that I went so far as to demand an open marriage from my own wife?"

A quiet wave of gasps and muttered comments swept through the assembled press pool.

"Yes, I committed that error," Christian continued, leaning over the podium as if baring his soul to the lenses. "And the moment another man showed her appreciation, panic set in. I realized I was losing her, and my ego could not tolerate that reality. But rather than holding a mature conversation and seeking her forgiveness, I chose a path of destruction. I attempted to tear down her reputation and drag Vance Enterprises down alongside her."

High above the floor, Roxanne felt a cold wave of nausea settle in her stomach as she listened to the performance. Every word dripping from his lips was carefully crafted damage control. He was not remorseful; he was simply putting on a show to preserve whatever shred of public dignity he had left.

"Every accusation I leveled against the Vance family was built on lies, fueled entirely by jealousy and wounded pride," Christian declared, his voice ringing clearly through the speakers. "I want to take this opportunity to issue a formal apology to my former wife, Roxanne, and to the entire board of Vance Enterprises. I should have conducted myself with basic integrity."

He swallowed hard, his throat working as if the forced humility tasted like ash. "I want the record to reflect that Vance Enterprises did nothing to deserve everything I said against them."

The reporters exchanged quick, skeptical looks, the room suddenly alive with the rapid click of camera shutters.

"Are you asking us to report that every single piece of evidence you previously released was entirely fabricated?" one anchor asked, tilting her head.

Christian froze.

"Were you threatened into making this confession?" a second journalist interjected before Christian could answer the first.

Christian swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears.

"How can the public be certain you didn’t strike a deal behind closed doors?" a third reporter pressed, stepping closer to the stage. "You just explicitly stated that the Vances are dangerous. Are they forcing you to do this?"

Christian stared out at the firing squad of cameras, his chest heaving as his steady facade began to crack.

"Or did they uncover something damaging about your past?" the first anchor pressed, her eyes sharp and relentless. "Is this statement an attempt to appease them and protect yourself from being exposed? We have seen this exact pattern play out before."

Christian looked up toward the gallery one last time, his mouth dry as he swallowed against the rising pressure. "I am not hiding anything," he insisted, though a subtle tremor betrayed his voice. "I am simply here to set the record straight. That is all."

In the gallery, the rigid tension in Richard’s shoulders finally dissolved. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked down at Christian’s spiraling posture on the floor.

Roxanne turned her head, her eyes searching Richard’s calm face. "What is going through your head right now?" she asked softly.

Richard turned to meet her gaze, the warmth in his eyes entirely steady. "He thought he was being clever," he replied, his voice smooth. "Instead, he just locked his own prison door from the inside."

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