He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

What in the world are they doing here? Roxanne’s heart thudded against her ribs like a trapped bird as the two women invaded the terrace.

The warm, lavender-scented air suddenly felt suffocating, destroyed by the sharp stench of heavy perfume and cold authority.

"What the hell is she doing in my house?" Richard snapped, stepping in front of Roxanne. His jaw was set into a hard line, his shoulders going rigid beneath his jacket. "John, who authorized her entry?"

"She is with me," Margaret interjected before the butler could even muster a reply. She smoothed the front of her suit, her eyes flashing with disdain. "Or are you planning to instruct your staff to disrespect your mother as well?"

Richard’s nostrils flared, a dangerous fire flickering in his dark eyes. He opened his mouth to lash out, but Roxanne reached over, her warm fingers sliding over his tensed wrist. She gave a faint, subtle shake of her head.

Richard let out a long, heavy breath, yielding to her touch as he rested his arm back on the table.

Margaret marched across the stone tiles, her heels striking the floor like mini hammer blows. She stopped directly in front of Richard, her face a mask of disappointment. Cara hovered half a step behind her, her ruined mascara giving her a desperate look.

Margaret locked eyes with her son. "Do you have any idea what will happen if the board discovers she is here?" she demanded, her voice low and sharp. "And I was told she brought her bags here? Is she living here now?"

Richard leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as he met his mother’s furious glare. "She is living here now," he announced, his voice flat.

The remaining color drained from Cara’s face. "What? That is impossible!" she gasped out, taking a frantic step forward. She grabbed Margaret’s sleeve, her voice rising into a panic. "Right? Tell him, Margaret! Tell him he cannot do this!"

"Yes, Richard," Margaret said, her tone hardening. "Have you completely lost your mind? What if the shareholders—"

"I could not care less what anyone thinks," Richard cut in cleanly. His voice carried an absolute authority that echoed across the patio. "This is my personal life, and no one rules it but me. I have made my choice, and you will all accept it." He reached out, his fingers interlacing firmly with Roxanne’s.

Margaret’s eyes dropped to their joined hands, her lip curling in disgust before her gaze snapped up to Roxanne’s face. "No one in this family will accept her. She is divorced. She comes with baggage and scandals."

Richard scoffed, his thumb tracing a slow circle over Roxanne’s knuckles. "You don’t have to accept her," he said, his voice quiet but laced with steel. "But as long as my private life does not interfere with my work, no one has the right to challenge my choice. And no one judges my woman."

Margaret’s knuckles turned white as her grip tightened around the strap of her leather purse. She turned her full attention to Roxanne, leaning down slightly.

"Have some dignity and tell him how ridiculous he sounds," she spat, her words dripping with venom. "Why don’t you just pack your things and leave? I expected your resignation days ago. Why can’t you do the right thing and just walk away?"

Roxanne narrowed her eyes, the prickle of fear in her chest giving way to anger. She held the older woman’s stare without flinching. "You, of all people, have no right to tell me to leave," she said, her voice smooth. "Your son has made his decision. Why can’t you simply be happy for him and leave us in peace?"

Margaret’s eyebrows shot up, her icy blue eyes narrowing to slits. "So you have the nerve to speak back to me now?"

Cara leaned over Margaret’s shoulder, her fingers twitching at her side. "She should be thrown out right now! She has completely brainwashed Richard. We need to save him, Margaret!"

Roxanne shifted her gaze from Cara’s frantic face back to Margaret, letting out a breath. "I had so much respect for you, Lady Vance," she murmured, her tone laced with quiet disappointment.

"When we first met, I respected you as a woman of wisdom. But watching you stand behind the one person who abandoned your family when things got hard makes me wonder. Do you actually care about your son, or do you just want to remain in control?"

"Shut your mouth!" Cara barked, stabbing a manicured finger through the air toward Roxanne’s face. "Margaret, do not listen to her! You know why I had to leave back then! You know I had to protect myself from the press!"

Margaret didn’t even turn around. She kept her cold eyes fixed on Roxanne, waving a dismissive hand behind her back. "Wait outside for me, Cara. I need to speak with Roxanne alone."

Cara froze, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "What? You want me to leave?" She let out a sharp, awkward laugh that sounded close to a shriek. "Surely you meant Roxanne should leave!"

"Wait in the car, Cara," Margaret repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I will be down shortly."

"I do not want her waiting in the driveway," Richard interjected, his voice low and furious. "Get off my property, Cara."

Cara looked from Richard’s stony face to Margaret’s rigid back, then landed her gaze on Roxanne’s calm expression. A sound of pure rage escaped her throat. Spinning on her heel, she stormed off the terrace, her heavy footsteps fading down the hallway.

Once the door clicked shut, Margaret stepped closer to the table, looming over Roxanne. "First of all, you will never address me in that tone again," she stated, her voice dropping into a whisper. "Secondly, I told you before that being divorced does not give you an automatic pass into this family. I meant every word."

Roxanne remained seated, keeping her breathing slow and deep to steady her racing pulse. She felt the heat of Richard’s hand anchored over hers, grounding her in the quiet space between them.

"Even if Richard refuses Cara, I will never allow you into this family," Margaret said, each word calculated and cold. "You are a walking target for the media, and my decision is final."

Richard’s jaw worked heavily, his knuckles turning pale. Roxanne simply held Margaret’s gaze in silence, refusing to give the woman the reaction she wanted.

Satisfied with the silence, Margaret turned away, her silk scarf fluttering as she made her way toward the terrace exit.

Richard stood up from his chair, his tall frame casting shadows over her as he looked at his mother’s back. "And what if she is carrying my child?" he asked gently.

Margaret stopped dead in her tracks, her body going completely rigid against the open doorway.

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