He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

"My offer is simple and final," Margaret said, her voice cold and transactional. "I will have Roxanne suspended from the firm immediately. Richard will write you a formal apology whether he likes it or not, and I will personally see to it that it is published in the national press."

A raw fury spiked through Richard. His brow furrowed deeply, the muscles in his jaw bunching so tight they looked like stone. He moved to speak, but Henry gave a subtle shake of his head, a silent plea to keep his temper under wraps.

Richard let out a harsh breath, leaning his back against his chair to keep from leaping across the table.

Christian slowly turned his head toward Richard, a smug grin spreading across his face. He tilted his head, practically tasting the victory. "Why so quiet, Richard? Should I take your silence to mean you finally agree with Mommy?"

Richard stared right through him, his teeth grinding together with enough force to snap, before he deliberately cut his eyes away, refusing to give Christian another ounce of satisfaction.

Christian chuckled and turned back to Margaret, his chest swelling. "I will accept his written apology," he declared, his voice dripping with triumph. Then, just as quickly, his smile vanished, replaced by a ruthless stare. "But I want Roxanne’s suspension to take effect this very second. I want her walking out of this Villa with me right now. That is the only show of good faith I will accept."

Margaret’s eyes narrowed into slits as she calculated the risks, her gaze cutting to Roxanne for a brief second before locking back onto Christian. "Oh, I would love nothing more than to watch her walk out of here with you," she murmured, a wicked glint in her eyes. "But we both know that isn’t realistic right now. Look around this room."

Christian opened his mouth to argue, but Margaret held up a single finger, cutting him off quietly. "But I can assure you, it will happen a lot sooner than you think."

Christian’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Roxanne, then at Richard’s rigid posture, and shook his head. "Then I guess we have nothing left to talk about," he said, his voice hardening as he began to turn back toward the door.

"Even if I write you a check for a hundred million right now?" Margaret asked, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Are you really going to walk away from that kind of offer?"

Christian froze mid-step. He slowly turned around, his chest heaving under his blazer. Roxanne watched him closely, noting the sudden greed flashing in his eyes. The offer had completely hooked him.

Then Christian shook his head. "That’s insulting," he said.

Nicholas let out a long, weary sigh from his end of the table, looking straight at Christian. "That is the best offer you are ever going to get at this table," he advised, his voice tight. "It’s a hell of a lot more than the mole will ever be able to pay you. Just take it and leave."

Christian’s forehead creased into a deep frown as he locked eyes with Nicholas. "Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Do you even know what the hell you’re saying right now?"

Roxanne’s eyes narrowed as she switched her gaze between the two men. A strange, underlying current was passing between Nicholas and Christian, but she kept her face completely expressionless, storing the observation away.

"Listen to me, Christian. Ignore them and look at me," Margaret interrupted, her tone turning smooth and reassuring. "This hundred million is just a down payment on your terms. You have my word that before the close of business this Friday, the remaining balance will be cleared."

Christian stared at her, the wheels visibly turning in his head as he weighed the massive influx of cash against his pride. Finally, he gave a slow, deliberate nod. "As long as I get his written apology and Roxanne is delivered back to me, we have a deal."

Margaret’s face instantly lit up, a massive wave of relief washing over her features. "You’ll have my answer before Friday."

Christian scanned the room one last time, his gaze lingering on Richard, his eyes burning with petty malice. Then, he looked at Margaret. "Alright then. Write the check."

Margaret nodded eagerly, reaching for her handbag and pulling it open.

Henry leaned closer to his wife, his thick brows knitting together in genuine alarm. "Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, Margaret?" he whispered, his voice heavy with caution.

Margaret shot him a brief look, a flash of silent understanding passing between them. Without a word, she pulled a heavy gold pen and her checkbook from her purse.

The sharp rip of the checkbook flipping open echoed in the quiet room.

Richard leaned forward, his entire body rigid as his fist clenched into a white-knuckled ball against the mahogany table. He glared at Christian. "You are going to regret this. You know you will," he spat out through clenched teeth.

Christian just smiled, completely unfazed. "You really should be thanking your mother for being the only wise person at this table," he taunted. "And remember, whatever you have to say to me from now on needs to be on camera, and it better start with ’I’m sorry’."

Richard slammed his back into his seat again, swallowing hard against the rage coating his throat. Beneath the table, his leg was bouncing erratically as he fought to keep his composure.

Henry shook his head, his face lined with deep anxiety. "You all know that blackmailers never stop," he warned the room. "We shouldn’t be negotiating with a parasite."

"Father is right," Pamela chimed in, nervously shaking her head.

"Mrs. Vance, you really should be consulting the board before making a financial decision of this magnitude," one of the senior board members complained.

But Margaret completely tuned them out. She kept her eyes glued to the paper, her face stern and unbothered as the loud scratch of her pen filled the tense air.

When she finished, she tore the paper away with a crisp snap, lifting her head to look at Christian. She extended the small slip of paper towards him. "Here you go."

Christian’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. He glanced over at Roxanne, catching the disgust written all over her face. "Don’t look at me like that, Roxy," he purred, his voice slick. "This money is going to make our lives incredibly easy when we start over."

Roxanne said absolutely nothing, though her pulse was hammering like a drum in her ears. If only Margaret knew the kind of monster she was feeding.

Christian stepped up to the table, his fingers brushing against the crisp paper. He went to pull it from her grasp, but Margaret didn’t let go, her grip remaining iron-clad. She shook her head.

"Not so fast," Margaret said, her voice turning lethal. "The name."

Christian looked down at her and smiled, a dangerous amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you sure you’re actually ready for it, Margaret?"

Margaret’s jaw hardened, her eyes freezing over. "Give me the name. We’ve been waiting long enough."

Christian glanced around the room, soaking in the desperate curiosity of every executive at the table. Then, he turned back to Margaret. "Well, you’re the one paying for the information, so I’m only giving it to you. How do you want it? Right here in front of everyone?"

Margaret simply nodded, her chest heaving as she held her breath. Christian leaned down, bridging the gap until his lips were inches from her ear.

Every single eye in the room locked onto them, the silence so profound you could hear the soft rustle of his jacket. His lips moved, whispering a name directly into her ear.

Margaret’s head instantly snapped back, her face draining of color as her eyes flew wide with sheer horror. "You’re lying," she breathed, her voice trembling.

Christian shook his head slowly, the smirk returning to his face with terrifying satisfaction. "I told you, you weren’t ready, Margaret."

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