He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Roxanne’s heart was hammering frantically inside her ribs, an erratic rhythm that made her chest ache. But as she opened her mouth to give a reply, the sudden vibration of her phone against the polished wood of Richard’s desk interrupted her.

Her gaze snapped to the device as it buzzed insistently, sliding an inch across the glossy surface. Before she even reached the desk, her eyes caught the photo glowing on the screen, and her stomach twisted into a tight knot. No, it can’t be.

She frowned, stepping closer to pick up the phone, her hands trembling slightly as her fingers brushed the glass. It was indeed him. Her pulse spiked loudly in her ears, drowning out the faint hum of the air conditioner as she stared at the caller ID.

"What is wrong, Roxanne?" Richard asked, his eyebrows pinched tightly together as he looked at her.

Roxanne’s eyes moved slowly from the phone screen up to his face. "It’s him," she whispered, the words scraping past her throat, which had locked up in sheer disbelief. "It’s Christian."

"That’s impossible," Richard said instantly, his dark eyes narrowing as a harsh line formed between his brows.

Roxanne turned the screen toward him, showing the name brightly lit against the dark background. "No, Richard, look. It’s really him," she said, exhaling a nervous breath. "How is he calling me? Shouldn’t he be in a prison cell right now?" she asked, the room suddenly feeling too small.

Richard’s expression darkened, his jaw hardening into a sharp contour. "I am going to find out right now," he said, his voice dropping an octave into an absolute command. "I’m calling legal, and they better have a damn good explanation."

Roxanne simply nodded, her skin growing cold despite the warm sunlight pouring through the window. Why was Christian calling her when she finally believed she was safe from his reach? Had he somehow managed to talk his way out of his mountain of financial crimes?

Oh God, I hope not. She tapped her nails rapidly against the edge of the desk, watching Richard press a speed-dial button on the sleek office intercom.

The line barely rang once before a sharp click signaled the connection.

"Why is Christian Westbrook not behind bars?" Richard demanded, skipping all pleasantries before the head of legal could even offer a greeting.

A heavy sigh came through the desk speaker. "Sir, it is not quite as simple as that," the corporate lawyer explained carefully. "The case is still before the court, and no formal judgment has been rendered by the judge yet."

"But shouldn’t he be remanded in custody for violating the restraining order?" Roxanne interjected, stepping closer to the microphone. "He knowingly broke a binding court order. Or is that no longer part of the official charges against him?"

The line went silent for a brief second, the faint sound of rustling paper audible over the speaker.

"Is there a fresh development I should be aware of?" the lawyer asked.

"He just called Roxanne’s cell," Richard cut in sharply before Roxanne could formulate her response. "The phone is vibrating on my desk right this second," he added, his free hand clenching into a tight fist at his side.

"Ah, I see. Well, as I mentioned, the matter is still before the court," the head of legal clarified, his tone maddeningly routine. "Mr. Westbrook was granted conditional bail late yesterday afternoon, pending the next court date."

"And why wasn’t I briefed on this immediately?" Richard snapped, his chest heaving as his breathing turned heavy and aggressive.

"I did not deem it urgent enough to inform you, sir," the lawyer replied smoothly. "We typically process these procedural updates and deliver the full brief during the weekly executive meeting."

Richard let out a long breath through his nose, clearly straining to keep his explosive temper in check. "How do we fix this right now? I will not have him harassing her."

"Based on the release terms, Mr. Westbrook is strictly prohibited from contacting designated witnesses," the lawyer noted.

"Then why is his name lighting up her phone?" Richard barked, his knuckles turning white.

"Sir, while the order restricts contact with witnesses, it does not automatically cover every private line unless we file a targeted injunction. If you wish, I can draft an emergency motion for a specific court order immediately."

Richard and Roxanne exchanged a rapid glance. Roxanne gave a resolute nod, her eyes wide with agreement.

Richard shifted his gaze back to the speaker. "I want that emergency order filed and signed before close of business today."

"Understood, sir. I will handle it personally."

The line went dead with a soft beep.

Roxanne looked down at the phone, which had finally stopped vibrating, only to start buzzing all over again as the missed call reset into a new attempt.

She looked up at Richard. "We have a massive problem if Christian is walking the streets completely free," she said, her voice tight.

Richard’s eyes darted from her pale face down to the glowing screen, then back up. "Do you want me to turn it off, or do you want to answer it?" he asked, his tone dropping back into a calm register.

Roxanne looked at the device and let out a soft sigh, her pulse continuing its relentless pounding against her ribs. "Answering it might be a bad idea, but if he is calling me repeatedly like this, it can only mean one thing."

Richard leaned closer, his brow furrowing again. "What is that?"

Roxanne raised her eyes to meet his dark gaze. "He wants something," she said simply, watching the glowing name state its relentless demand for attention. "And we will be in a much better position if we know his exact play. I want to hear what he has to say."

Richard nodded without hesitation, reaching out to wrap a supportive arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. "Then you aren’t dealing with this alone," he murmured against her hair.

Roxanne took a deep, steadying breath, letting the warmth of his body ground her chaotic nerves. She reached down, her fingers much steadier now, and swiped the screen to accept the incoming call.

She immediately tapped the speaker icon, setting the phone down in the center of the wooden desk, and stepped back slightly. Neither of them spoke. The silence in the spacious office grew heavy and thick as they waited for the voice on the other end to break the standoff.

A second later, a familiar voice drifted through the small speaker, rich with unbearable arrogance.

"Hello again, Roxanne," Christian said, his tone dripping with a smug satisfaction that made it clear he was smiling on the other end.

Roxanne’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

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