He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

"Enough of this nonsense," Henry’s voice boomed, deep and steady, cutting through the rising panic like an axe through wood. He adjusted his stance, his large hands anchoring him to the table. "I will tell you exactly what happened."

Margaret snapped her head toward him, her chest heaving as her heart hammered violently against her ribs. She grabbed his forearm, her nails digging through his suit jacket. "Henry, no. You don’t have to say a word. Christian hasn’t actually said anything yet."

Henry looked down at her, slowly and deliberately shaking his head. The hard lines around his eyes softened for a fraction of a second. "Look around you, Margaret. This is the only card we have left to play."

He turned back to face the sea of hostile faces. But just as he parted his lips to speak, Cara’s voice sliced through the air like broken glass.

"There’s no need to bother," she whispered, her face completely drained of color as she stared at the glowing screen of her phone.

Every head in the room turned sharply toward her. The sudden silence was deafening.

"What is it, Cara?" Pamela demanded, her voice cracking with desperate energy.

Cara didn’t look up. She swallowed hard, her throat clicking in the quiet room. "Christian just dropped a second video," she said, her thumbs trembling against the glass. "The title is ’What Pamela Vance Told Me in Confidence Will Shock You.’"

Roxanne felt her breath catch, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. He isn’t going to stop until we’re all buried, she realized, a cold sweat breaking out along her hairline.

"Do not click that link!" Margaret barked, her voice screeching across the table before anyone could react.

It was too late. On the left side of the table, an executive had already tapped the screen. A second later, Christian’s crisp, smug voice filled the room.

"...Pamela explicitly told me that Henry Vance was actively laundering money for the mafia," Christian’s voice revealed, sharp and venomous. "He built his entire empire on dirty cash and backroom intimidation. That’s how he bought Vance Enterprises. He is a corrupt businessman, and frankly, I’m risking my life just exposing this. His family is—"

"Turn that damn thing off!" Margaret screamed, lunging halfway across the table. "Now!"

The executive frantically slapped the screen, cutting the audio dead.

The sudden silence felt heavier than the noise. Dozens of eyes locked back onto Henry. The patriarch simply stared straight ahead, his jaw rigid, offering no denial.

"This is exactly what we were trying to prevent," the chief of legal said, rubbing his temples as the tension in his shoulders tightened. "Your silence gave Westbrook a head start, Henry. He just seized total control of the narrative."

Before Henry could answer, a sharp clatter broke the tension. Cara had pushed her leather chair back so violently it struck the wall. She scooped up her designer purse with shaking hands, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Margaret’s brow furrowed in deep offense. "Where do you think you’re going, Cara?"

Cara looked back, her eyes wide with fear. "You’re tied to organized crime, Margaret," she stammered, backing away toward the exit. "I am getting out of here. I don’t want the feds breathing down my neck, and I refuse to be associated with a mafia family." She turned on her heel, her heels clicking frantically against the hardwood.

"Cara! Get back here! You can’t just walk out!" Margaret yelled, shock fracturing her icy facade.

Cara didn’t even blink or offer a backward glance. The door swung shut behind her, the latch clicking into place with a definitive, chilling sound.

Roxanne looked over at Henry. Her brow furrowed, her eyes softening with genuine concern despite the chaos.

"Henry, you need to lay everything on the table right now. We need the truth from your own mouth," she said softly, her voice an anchor in the room. "It’s the only weapon we have left to fight this video."

Henry looked at Roxanne and let out a long, defeated sigh. But before the words could form, Margaret snapped.

"This is entirely your fault!" the matriarch hissed, pointing a trembling finger across the table. "Yours, and this useless, pathetic daughter of mine!"

Roxanne closed her eyes for a brief second, inhaling slowly to keep her temper in check. She opened them and shook her head at the older woman.

"Are you seriously still throwing tantrums and playing the blame game, Lady Vance? Even after what Christian just unleashed on the public?" She leaned forward, locking eyes with Margaret. "Right now, we need to put our egos aside and fight the actual threat. I know you despise me. But look at it logically: the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"She’s right, Mother," Pamela whimpered, wiping a tear from her smudged makeup. "This isn’t the time to attack each other. We have to fix this, or the board is going to cast us out into the street."

Margaret glared at Pamela, her jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped under her skin. She looked away, disgusted.

Pamela swallowed hard, looking desperately at her father. "I swear I didn’t tell him those exact words, Dad. You heard what I said in the first clip, it wasn’t like this."

"It’s alright," Henry interrupted, his tone calm. He looked around the table, meeting the gaze of every remaining board member. "I was indeed involved with the mafia."

A collective gasp echoed through the room. Several board members shook their heads in pure disapproval, but Henry remained completely unfazed, his spine straight.

"But I was never a money launderer," Henry clarified, his voice rock-solid. "I never participated in their crimes, I never ordered a hit, and I never ran dirty scams. My hands are clean."

"Then why the hell did you hide it for thirty years?" the chairman demanded, throwing his hands up.

"Because my birth family was the mafia," Henry revealed, the confession hanging in the air like smoke. "Vance Enterprises was funded and built using clean capital inherited from them. Capital I chose to legitimize."

The chairman’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information. "And where does Margaret fit into this equation?"

Henry looked at his wife, and for the first time, Margaret looked vulnerable. She let out a soft, trembling sigh.

"Because she used her brilliance to cleanly sever the ties between my past and my future," Henry said, placing his large hand over hers. "She is the sole reason my children have been safe all these years."

The chairman leaned back, a calculating gleam returning to his corporate eyes. "If you frame the narrative exactly like that, a man escaping his criminal bloodline to build an honest American dream, the public might actually believe it. That’s the angle we spin to the media."

Henry’s brow furrowed, a flash of anger darkening his features. "That isn’t an angle to spin. It is the absolute truth," he growled. "Go ahead and audit the books. Look for a criminal record. You won’t find one. I have run nothing but honorable business operations from day one."

"Which means Christian is actively fabricating lies to destroy the Vances," Roxanne said, her mind spinning as the pieces clicked together. A surge of adrenaline replaced her fear. "He can’t be allowed to get away with this. He needs to face the consequences."

"Oh, he will pay," Richard muttered through clenched teeth, his knuckles cracking as his fists tightened.

"We can’t just sit here defensively while he ruins our lives," Roxanne urged, looking around the table. "We solve problems for a living. There has to be a definitive way to shut him down once and for all."

Richard let out a long, slow breath, a dangerous calm settling over his features. He looked up, his eyes locking onto Roxanne.

"There is one way," Richard said.

Every single person at the table turned toward him.

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