He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

The second Richard’s imposing figure crossed the threshold, the suffocating silence in the corridor broke. Staff members scrambled back to their desks, suddenly hyper-focused on blank computer screens and random paperwork.

Richard didn’t break stride. His deep voice cut through the room, low and dangerous. "What are you doing here?"

Roxanne turned toward the sound of his voice, relief surging through her, but Christian caught her by the wrist.

Before she could wrench herself away, he yanked her hand up, pressing his mouth to her knuckles. His eyes never left Richard’s, he looked at him with a deliberate challenge, silently daring him to stop him.

Richard didn’t move, keeping his posture perfectly calm, but Roxanne noticed the sharp tick in his jaw. The proximity of the two men made the air thick, crackling with an unspoken tension.

Roxanne’s blood boiled. With a sharp gasp of disgust, she forcefully ripped her hand out of Christian’s grip, her skin burning where his lips had touched.

"Don’t you ever touch me again!" she spat, her voice shaking with anger. "I want nothing to do with you!"

Christian’s smug expression crumbled, his face twisting into an ugly scowl. "Why? Because of him?" he demanded, throwing an accusing finger toward Richard.

"Because of you, Christian! You!" Roxanne stepped closer, the heat of her anger radiating between them. She kept her voice low to keep from screaming, but it cut like steel. "I will never want you. I don’t care how many times you try to corner me in public or play the victim, I am done. I do not care about you anymore. Stay away from me!"

She turned on her heel, pushing past him to walk down the hall.

"You’re ruining your own reputation, Roxy," Christian called out, his voice dropping into a manipulative purr. "Don’t you care about how this looks?"

Roxanne stopped. A cold clarity washed over her. She spun around to face him, letting the entire floor hear her.

"You know what? I don’t care. In fact, let everyone hear it. Please tell this man to sign the damn divorce papers! I am finished with him, and any woman in this room who thinks he’s such a catch can have him! Just sign the papers and leave me the hell alone."

Christian’s eyes went dark, his voice dropping to a low, threatening murmur. "Are you absolutely certain that is what you want?"

"Yes!"

"You know that if I can’t have you, neither will he," Christian said, his glare shifting back to Richard.

"You don’t get to dictate my life anymore," Roxanne shot back, her chest heaving as she fought for a breath of calm air. "Stop the pathetic drama and sign the papers."

"Even if it means your entire career goes down in flames?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Christian!" Roxanne didn’t hesitate, the words tearing from her throat. "I would rather be sleeping on the streets, completely jobless, than spend another single day trapped in a marriage with you."

Christian’s mouth opened, his eyes shimmering suddenly, but Roxanne cut him off by slamming her hand up in the air.

"Leave quietly, Christian. Or I will let Richard handle you, and you know exactly how that ends."

Christian took a clumsy step toward her, sniffling as his composure completely fractured. "Why can’t you see it? I’m the only one who truly wants you. I love you, Roxanne. I’m better than him."

Roxanne looked at him, her gaze slowly traveling from his disheveled hair down to his expensive shoes. There was no anger left, only an overwhelming, exhausting pity.

She shook her head. "I’m done, Christian. I will never waste my life on a man who can’t bear to see me win or who can’t see past his own massive ego. Never again. Leave before I have you removed."

Christian wiped his nose, his face burning red as he looked over at Richard. "This is your fault," he hissed.

Richard stepped up beside Roxanne, his presence solid and utterly immovable. He looked at Christian like he was looking at dirt. "I warned you that the next time you set foot on my premises, you’d be leaving in the back of a squad car. But I’m feeling generous today," he murmured, his voice deadly calm. "Leave peacefully with whatever shred of dignity you have left."

"Or what?" Christian challenged, stepping closer.

Richard didn’t even look away from him. "You. Call security," he ordered a nearby receptionist. The girl nodded rapidly, instantly grabbing the desk intercom.

"I will make you regret this. I promise you," Christian spat, his chest heaving as he finally backed away. He turned toward the elevators, but as he passed Roxanne, he paused one last time, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "This isn’t over. You should be very worried, Roxy. It’s far from over."

Roxanne just shrugged, her expression completely numb. "Do whatever you want. Nobody cares," she said, turning her back on him and walking toward her office.

Christian’s jaw locked. Seeing the quiet triumph in Richard’s eyes snapped his remaining restraint. He looked at Roxanne’s retreating back, his mind fracturing. "I will never divorce you!" he roared.

Roxanne didn’t answer. She didn’t even slow down.

Losing all control, Christian charged down the hallway after her. But before his fingers could reach her shoulder, the elevator doors chimed open, and two burly security guards burst into the corridor.

"Take him," Richard commanded.

Just as Christian reached out to grab Roxanne, the guards slammed into him, locking his arms behind his back.

"Let me go!" Christian thrashed violently, his face contorted as he watched Richard calmly walk up to Roxanne, placing a protective hand on the small of her back. The contrast of Richard’s smooth touch against her dress sent a sharp spike of jealousy through Christian’s veins.

"Don’t you dare touch my wife! Get your filthy hands off her!" he screamed, his voice echoing off the walls.

"Throw him out of the building," Richard told the guards, his voice ice-cold. He didn’t give Christian another glance, turning to guide Roxanne toward the quiet sanctuary of her office.

Christian watched the office door close behind them, his eyes narrowing into slits as the guards dragged him toward the lift. With a violent jerk, he yanked his arms free from their grip, adjusting his jacket.

He snatched his phone out of his pocket, his fingers flying across the glass screen in a blur.

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