He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

The interior of the Mercedes was thick with the scent of leather and the fading warmth of the afternoon sun.

Richard shifted gears, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. Without breaking his gaze from the road, he reached across the console, his large hand wrapping around Roxanne’s fingers. His thumb brushed over her skin, a silent, reassuring pulse.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet cabin.

Roxanne turned in her seat, watching through the rear window as Christian’s frantic figure grew smaller, surrounded by a sea of flashing cameras. A cold weight settled deep in her stomach. "He won’t stop," she said, the realization hardening inside her. "I need to do something that will keep him off my back once and for all."

Richard nodded, his jaw tight as he navigated the car onto the main highway. "We will. But try to forget him for now. Christian is just a pawn in this game, a loud distraction. The real battle is waiting for us at the villa."

At the mention of the villa, Roxanne’s throat went dry. Images of Margaret’s sharp, unforgiving eyes and the stern faces of the board members flashed in her mind. She could already feel the suffocating judgment waiting for them.

Exhaling a slow, shaky breath, she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, watching the city blur past.

Fifteen minutes later, the vehicle swept through the wrought-iron gates of the Vance Villa, tires crunching softly against the gravel of the expansive parking lot. As Richard killed the engine, the sudden silence inside the car felt heavy.

Roxanne’s eyes scanned the rows of luxury vehicles already parked in the drive. "They’re already here," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Richard turned to her, his dark eyes locking onto hers with certainty. "Don’t worry about a thing. I’m right beside you."

Roxanne nodded, but as she reached for the door handle, her posture stiffened. Through the windshield, a slender figure was marching down the stone steps toward them. "We’re too late," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Pamela is here. She’s already had time to poison the room."

"Let her try," Richard replied smoothly, stepping out of the car. "We handle them together."

They met Pamela halfway across the manicured lawn. Her face was twisted into an expression of frantic concern, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement.

"What on earth happened, Richard?" Pamela burst out, her voice tight with artificial panic. "It’s an absolute disaster in there. The board is furious."

Richard didn’t say a word. He simply reached for Roxanne’s hand, locking his fingers with hers, and walked right past her. Pamela stopped, her face falling into an ugly frown as she spun around to face their backs.

"Why are you ignoring me, Richard?" she asked.

Richard kept moving, but a bitter wave of disappointment curled in Roxanne’s chest. She stopped and turned to look at the woman she had once considered an ally.

"I was holding Christian’s phone last night, Pamela," Roxanne said, her voice dropping into a quiet calm. "I know you called him."

The color drained from Pamela’s face instantly. Her mouth parted slightly, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. "Roxanne, I can explain—"

"Just stop, Pamela," Richard cut in, finally turning around. The sheer coldness in his voice made Pamela flinch. "I hope there’s an explanation for this, and whatever they promised you for this betrayal was worth it."

Before Pamela could find her breath, Richard gently guided Roxanne away. "Let’s go inside."

Roxanne gave Pamela one last, lingering look of pity, shaking her head. "Now I finally understand what you meant when you warned me never to trust anyone in this family. You were talking about yourself."

They left her standing frozen on the lawn and walked through the grand double doors of the villa.

The moment they stepped into the marble foyer, the first thing they noticed was that the servants stopped as they saw them approaching with their hands held. On the left, the television had their faces pasted on the screen.

Then the muffled, angry vibrations of voices drifted from the formal dining room down the hall.

Roxanne’s heart hammered fiercely against her ribs, each step forward requiring a conscious effort. Sensing her tension, Richard’s grip on her hand tightened, grounding her.

"I warned all of you that this would happen, but no one wanted to listen." Margaret’s voice oozed through the door, dripping with disdain. "I knew that girl would bring nothing but chaos and ruin to everything this family has built."

"Margaret, please, let’s look at the facts—" Henry’s calmer voice attempted to intervene, but Margaret cut him off with a sharp, echoing snap.

"Tell me, Henry! When has Vance Enterprises ever been dragged into the gutter like this? When have we ever faced a scandal of this magnitude? Answer me! Never! Not until he brought her into our inner circle."

"We need to remain level-headed and hear Richard out first," Henry reasoned quietly. "He must have an explanation for what is happening."

Standing just outside the threshold, Richard paused and looked down at Roxanne. The world beyond those doors seemed to disappear for a heartbeat. "Are you ready?" he murmured. "It’s going to be an all-out war in there."

Roxanne took one deep, stabilizing breath, looking up into the eyes of the man who was willing to burn his own legacy to protect her. She nodded. "Let’s go."

Richard pushed the doors open, stepping fully into the room, his presence immediately dominating the space. "We’re here now," he announced, his deep baritone cutting through the argument like a guillotine. "So you can direct all your questions and concerns to me."

The room plunged into a sudden, suffocating silence.

Every head at the long table snapped toward the door.

All eyes locked onto Richard, then shifted to Roxanne standing resolutely at his side. Then, slowly, almost meticulously, the gaze of every board member traveled downward, landing squarely on their tightly locked hands.

The raw hostility radiating from the room was a physical weight. For a split second, the pressure made Roxanne want to pull her fingers from his grasp, but Richard felt the slight shift and held her even tighter, refusing to let her hide.

"Did she not receive the formal correspondence?" one of the older board members whispered loudly to his neighbor.

Nicholas let out a sharp, mocking scoff from the side of the table. "This is not happening," he said, shaking his head as he stared at Roxanne. "Why is she even in this room? She wasn’t invited."

Richard took a definitive step forward, pulling Roxanne with him into the light of the chandelier. "As the controlling owner and CEO of Vance Enterprises, I decide who sits at this table. She stays."

Roxanne squared her shoulders, lifting her chin to meet the glares of the executives. "And as an executive of this company whose reputation is being publicly dismantled, I have every right to defend myself."

"This is a disaster," Nicholas muttered, rubbing his temples. "It’s worse than we thought. They’re completely unrepentant."

"If the media were to see them like this," a legal adviser murmured, his eyes wide.

At the far end of the table, Margaret’s face flushed a dangerous, mottled crimson. Her eyes burned with a pure hatred as she stared at Roxanne. Without a word, she violently pushed her chair back, the wood screeching against the marble floor as she stood up to her full height.

"I refuse to sit at the same table as this woman," Margaret declared, her voice trembling with rage. "Either you order her to leave this house this instant, Richard, or I am leaving this meeting, and you can face the consequences of the board alone."

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