He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

The evening breeze swept across the stone tiles, carrying a sudden chill that made the leaves on the garden trees rustle loudly.

"What did you just say to me?" Margaret asked, her brows furrowed into a tight knot.

"You heard me," Richard shot back.

"Answer me," Margaret said, her fingers trembling slightly at her side.

"Roxanne is pregnant," Richard blurted out, stepping closer to his mother. "She is carrying your first grandchild. So, will you still reject her?"

Roxanne’s chest heaved as she stared at the side of his face. Panic flickered like hot ash in her throat. The faint smell of damp garden roses outside felt sickening all of a sudden.

Why would he reveal this now, in the middle of an open war? She turned her gaze back to Margaret, her pulse racing in her ears as she waited for the inevitable fallout.

The color drained completely from Margaret’s face, leaving her pale skin looking like chalk under the dim light. Her eyes darted from Richard’s face down to Roxanne’s waistline, lingering there for a long moment.

"Why would you bring up something so serious just to win an argument?"

"I wouldn’t use something like this to prove a point." Richard shook his head slowly. He turned back to Roxanne, reaching out to rest his palm over her belly. The heat of his hand seeped through the thin fabric of her clothes, offering a steady warmth that grounded her against the cold air. "We are expecting our first child together. Your first grandchild."

Margaret’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she glared at Roxanne.

Roxanne opened her mouth to speak, but Margaret held up a single finger to her own lips, demanding silence with a gesture that felt like a slap.

Without another word, Margaret marched over to the door, pulled them shut to lock out any listening ears in the hallway, and walked back onto the terrace. Her heels struck the floor with a hollow snap. When she spoke again, her voice dropped into a whisper.

"How can you be so certain the child is yours, Richard?" she asked, her glare cutting straight through her son. "She left one man’s house and ended up in another. Now she’s pregnant."

Margaret rounded on Roxanne, her icy eyes flashing with cold rage. "That child could easily belong to Christian. How can you be sure it is a Vance?"

Roxanne felt her heart skip a beat, but she kept her chin high. "A woman always knows who the father of her child is," she said softly, tilting her head.

The memory of her past marriage felt distant, and she knew with absolute certainty that she and Christian had not shared an intimate moment for months before the end.

Margaret stared into Roxanne’s eyes for a long moment, then flicked her gaze down to her stomach before scoffing softly. "I am not buying it," she spat, her fingers tightening on her purse until the material creaked. "A desperate woman will say anything to secure her place in a family like ours."

Roxanne clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides, her anger burning away the last remnants of fear. The metal railings behind her felt ice-cold against her lower back, but she stood her ground.

"You want to protect your family, and so do I," she shot back, stepping into the space between them. "I will not let you stand here and insult my integrity. You know nothing about me, Margaret. Do not speak to me as if you do."

Margaret’s mouth tightened into a hard line, a vein pulsing near her temple. "I know all I need to know."

"Then enjoy your assumptions," Roxanne said smoothly, taking a slow breath. "You are free to judge me all you want, your opinion of me doesn’t change the truth. But if you come after my child, be ready for a fight."

Margaret’s sharp posture faltered for a fraction of a second as she absorbed Roxanne’s steady tone. "Are you seriously expecting me to welcome a woman my son has known for a month into this family, simply because she claims to be carrying his child?"

"That just proves how little you know about your son’s life," Roxanne countered smoothly. The cool air touched her face, but her blood ran hot. "And just so we are clear, I am not begging for your acceptance. I am a woman of worth, and if you fail to see that, it is your loss, not mine."

Margaret looked at Richard, taking in the way his fingers remained tightly locked with Roxanne’s in silent support.

The silence hung heavy on the terrace, broken only by the faint rustle of the wind against the trees.

"So you are just going to stand there while she speaks to your mother like this?" Margaret asked him.

"You started this, Mother," Richard replied calmly, his deep voice carrying no hesitation. "And you taught me yourself that when a man starts a family, he protects it above everything else."

Margaret’s eyebrows pulled together in a tense line. "Even if it costs you your position as president of the company?"

Richard gave a single, unbothered nod. "If it comes to that, yes."

Roxanne snapped her head toward him, her eyes widening as her heart thudded against her ribs. "That will not happen. Not on my watch," she promised, her voice laced with fierce protection as she squeezed his fingers.

Margaret looked between the two of them, letting out a sharp breath through her nose that smelled faintly of her expensive perfume. She turned her focus back to Roxanne. "Follow me inside."

Roxanne frowned, but before she could answer, Richard’s grip on her hand tightened into an iron anchor.

"No."

Margaret slumped her shoulders slightly, looking at her son with a mix of frustration and genuine exhaustion. "I am asking for a private word with the mother of my grandchild."

"And I still say no," Richard repeated, his posture immovable as he stepped slightly in front of Roxanne.

Margaret’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him one last time. "At this point, I do not care who you bring into your bed, Richard," she spat, the words heavy with venom. "But if Roxanne is carrying a Vance, she will prove that child is yours before she takes another step into this family!"

Roxanne’s heart hammered against her ribs, the quiet air on the terrace suddenly turning ice-cold as the challenge hung suspended between them.

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