He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

"Do you even understand the legal implications of what you are admitting, Richard?" Philip, the head of the legal team, asked, his voice tight as he leaned over his notepad. "You are openly acknowledging that you bypassed protocol and didn’t afford her this position based on pure merit."

Richard let out a soft, mocking chuckle. "Oh, Philip, please. Let’s not play games. I have a paper trail and multiple witnesses to prove that Roxanne’s employment was based on nothing but merit. All I did was place her portfolio on the desk and ask the committee to review it. I didn’t offer a single recommendation in her favor. The very people sitting around this table interviewed her. You all decided she was the absolute best fit for the role, not me."

A quiet beat passed.

One of the senior board members cleared his throat, nodding reluctantly. "That’s true. I was on the panel for her final evaluation. To be completely objective, Roxanne is exceptionally talented and will be a massive asset to our division. But let’s be honest, saying that out loud right now just sounds like desperate damage control." He shook his head, looking down.

"Singapore has frozen negotiations. And two institutional investors are requesting emergency calls," one of the board members said.

"And that is precisely why we should be strategizing," Pamela chimed in, leaning forward. Her tone was sharp, practical, and entirely focused. "We need a counter-narrative immediately. We either need to aggressively pivot the media’s attention away from them, or we need to feed the press a much larger scandal to bury this entirely."

"The most logical solution is the one option you refuse to accept, Richard," Philip countered, his pen clicking rhythmically against the table. "Talented or not, Vance Enterprises thrived long before she arrived, and we kept our reputation spotless while doing it. Frankly, I stand with Mrs. Vance on this. Miss Westbrook needs to be terminated immediately. If she isn’t, the market will bleed us dry, and this company will be facing bankruptcy by Friday night."

"We’ve already lost seven percent of market capitalization." Someone said.

The words seemed to physically sap the strength from the room.

Roxanne closed her eyes for a brief second, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples to dull the throbbing ache behind her eyes.

"Do you have something to say to this, Roxanne?" Henry asked, his voice surprisingly gentle amid the hostility.

"No one cares what she has to say. She just needs to pack her things and get out," Nicholas spat, his face twisted in disgust.

"I would like to hear her perspective," Henry cut in smoothly before Nicholas could rally any support from the rest of the board. He leveled a firm look across the table. "It’s the absolute minimum she is owed. At the end of the day, she is still one of us."

Roxanne let out a breath, letting her hands fall to the table. She looked at Henry, offering a small, grateful nod, before letting her gaze sweep over Margaret’s icy expression and the guarded faces of the remaining executives. Then, drawing on every ounce of poise she possessed, she stood up.

"Years ago, I spent months meticulously building an application for the absolute job of my dreams," Roxanne began, her voice steady, echoing off the wood-paneled walls. "But before I could even submit it, the man I called my husband stole my work, put his own name on it, and claimed the position as his own. Even when I discovered the betrayal, I chose to stay quiet. He was my husband, and I believed his success was our success."

Nicholas scoffed loudly, crossing his arms. "We don’t need a sob story, Roxanne. Get to the point."

"The point is, I earned my right to be in this room. I worked for it. I endured years of silence for it, and I am not a charity case," Roxanne countered, her eyes locking onto his until he looked away.

"But if this board genuinely believes that my presence here is going to cripple the company, then I will willingly step down. What I will not tolerate is for anyone in this room to weaponize my existence to attack Richard’s credibility or question his leadership."

The boardroom fell completely silent. Every eye was glued to her, captured by the sudden, raw shift in her demeanor.

"Yes, I love Richard. I won’t deny it. He was the very first man to see me, to value my mind, and to show me the kind of devotion I actually deserved," Roxanne said, her voice softening just enough for her gaze to meet Richard’s warm, steady eyes. "But I was an executive before I became the woman he loved.

I learned what it truly means to be cherished because of him, and I will never regret a single moment of it. Christian is a parasite, he is entirely guilty of this malice, and I will never return to him. But let’s be entirely clear, Christian is only half the problem. The person sitting at this table who deliberately handed him that video to use as a weapon against me and this family name is just as guilty. That is the traitor who should be fired today, not the person who has sacrificed so much to build your profits."

Richard looked up at her, a profound look of pride washing over his features. He nodded once, then turned back to face the frozen boardroom.

"Someone in this room is actively working to sabotage us from within, and that leak is exactly where our collective focus should be," Richard stated, his calm tone belying the absolute gravity of his words. "I made two definitive choices before I walked into this room."

The board members leaned in slightly, the tension in the room stretching to a wire-thin snap.

"First, I am completely severing ties with whoever dared to record a private moment of my life and intentionally distribute it to the public to ruin my reputation," Richard said, his voice terrifyingly serene. "And second, I choose Roxanne. Period. Anyone at this table who finds that arrangement unacceptable is more than welcome to pack their files and walk out right now."

Margaret’s brows pulled together into a deep frown, her hands tightening into fists on the table. "Are you truly telling this board that you are prepared to burn every bridge and fight everyone at this table just for her?"

Richard looked directly at his mother, a slow shake of his head following. "No, Mother. I am not fighting everyone at this table because not everyone in this room is against me." He let his gaze drift slowly across the seats, his eyes pinning a few specific executives down. "But I am certainly taking note of those who are."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Around the table, several board members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

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