He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Roxanne’s gaze snapped from Christian, standing rigid on the podium, back to Richard. Her brows pulled together into a tight crease. "What are you talking about?" she whispered.

Richard simply smiled, a slow curve of his lips that didn’t reach his eyes.

"You’re not going to let him leave, right?" She tilted her head, a soft breath slipping past her lips as the weight of the room pressed down on her shoulders.

Richard casually adjusted his jacket, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back in his chair. His gaze remained locked on Christian on the podium. "Is he going to get me all the money he made us lose? Or bring back the clients who ran to our competition? Can he undo a single thing he’s done these past two weeks?"

Roxanne shook her head, letting out a quiet sigh. "Of course he can’t. So?"

Richard turned his head, his eyes finding hers. "Do you trust me?"

Roxanne nodded.

"Then watch," Richard simply said.

She looked back at Christian, watching the sweat bead at his temples under the harsh lights. A grim realization settled in her chest. "He brought this on himself."

Without breaking eye contact with her, Richard slipped his phone from his pocket. His thumb flew across the screen before he pressed it to his ear. "Publish it immediately," he ordered, his voice dangerously low, stripped of any warmth.

Roxanne watched him, her heart hammering against her ribs. What was Richard playing at?

As if sensing the frantic pace of her thoughts, Richard ended the call and tucked the phone away. He leaned in just a fraction closer, the faint, clean scent of his cologne drifting across the space between them. "Everything is in motion," he said coldly. "Now he’ll pay, and there won’t be anyone to save him."

A sudden wave of relief washed over Roxanne, loosening the tight knot that had lived in her stomach for years. She looked at Christian again, watching him squirm under the flashbulbs. At least he’ll finally leave me alone.

Richard’s brows twitched upward. He reached out, his warm fingers gently brushing against the back of her hand. "Does it bother you to see me do this?" he asked, his tone softening, laced with concern.

Roxanne hesitated, her gaze darting between Richard’s steady eyes and Christian’s flustered silhouette across the room. Years of painful memories flashed behind her eyelids, the exhaustion, the tears, the quiet agony of feeling small.

He deserves this, she thought, a fierce heat rising in her chest. Every single bit of it.

She turned fully toward Richard, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. Her hand lingered against his touch, grounded by the steady heat of his skin.

"You’re doing the right thing," she replied, her voice steady. "This is the only way he’ll learn that crossing people has a price. He got away with it for years. But not anymore."

Richard’s smile returned, softer this time. "I’m glad you feel that way," he murmured, leaning back once more, though his thumb brushed her knuckles one last time before pulling away.

Roxanne nodded slowly, letting out a long breath before shifting her attention back down to the podium.

"That is all I have to say," Christian announced, his voice tight as he raised his hands in a weak gesture of defense.

"One more question, Mr. Westbrook!" a reporter shouted from the front row. "When did you realize all of this? Was it right after you lost your divorce case this morning?"

Christian’s face flushed a deep, mottled red, stained with restrained fury. His jaw clenched so hard the muscles jumped in his cheek. "That will be all. Thank you for your time," he snapped stiffly, turning on his heel.

"Mr. Westbrook, answer the question!"

Ignoring the chorus of shouts, Christian marched toward the exit, his shoulders hunched. Up above, Richard gave a subtle nod, and security immediately stepped in to usher the press out of the building.

"I guess that settles it," Henry murmured from beside them.

Richard offered a quiet nod to his father. "Everything is live now. This nightmare is finally over."

Moments later, the board members, investors, and Vances began filing out of the gallery into the wide corridor, exchanging murmurs of congratulations and firm handshakes.

Rounding the corner into the hallway leading to reception, they found Christian waiting. He was slouched against the polished stone wall, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to squeeze away a migraine.

The second he heard their footsteps, he pushed himself off the wall, his fists clutched so tight his knuckles shone white.

"Thank you for doing that," Richard cut in smoothly, stepping forward before Christian could even open his mouth. "You actually did good out there."

Christian stared at him, his eyes narrowing as though tasting poison. He clearly didn’t believe a single syllable. Slowly, his gaze slid past Richard to land on Roxanne.

"Roxanne," he breathed, taking a desperate step forward.

Before he could close the distance, Richard stepped smoothly into his path, placing a firm hand on his chest.

"You’re done here," Richard said, his voice dropping into an unyielding register. "You should leave."

Christian threw his hands up in mock surrender, a bitter laugh rattling in his chest. "I’m not going to hurt her. I just want to talk. Just for a second."

Roxanne’s jaw set like stone, a cold shiver running down her spine. "Well, you can do that from a thousand steps away."

Christian scoffed softly, taking a slow step back while keeping his hands raised. Roxanne crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"I just wanted to say that I finally see the one thing I failed to see all this time," Christian muttered, shaking his head as his gaze dropped to the floor. For a fleeting second, his posture slumped, carrying the heavy weight of true remorse.

Roxanne didn’t buy it for a second. With Christian, sincerity was always a weapon in disguise.

Lifting his head, Christian locked eyes with Richard, then shifted his gaze back to Roxanne. He took two deliberate steps forward, dropping his voice an octave until it was a possessive purr.

"You’re mine. And I’ll never let anyone else have you."

Disgust twisted Roxanne’s features into a sharp grimace as she glared at him. How does his mind even work? She let out an incredulous breath, shaking her head. Unbelievable.

Richard stepped between them, his jaw hard. "Leave," Richard said.

Christian looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "No."

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