He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

Two hours later, Roxanne pulled up to the curb in front of the penthouse.

Her heart battered against her ribs. She shut off the ignition and closed her eyes, forcing a slow breath into her lungs to steady the trembling in her chest.

You own this place, she reminded herself. He is the intruder.

Pushing the door open, she stepped out into the humid air. The heavy thud of the penthouse front door echoing across the driveway made her stiffen.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Christian step out onto the porch. She deliberately kept her gaze focused ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her immediate attention.

She opened her back car door, reaching in to grab her work tote and the garment bag containing the dress she’d worn to the dinner. Slinging the straps over her shoulder, she slammed the car door shut and began the long walk up the stone path.

Christian leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk played on his lips as he watched her approach.

Roxanne didn’t slow her pace, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete.

"I see you’ve finally come to your senses," Christian drawled, his eyes scanning her up and down before landing on the bags in her hands. His smirk vanished, replaced by a cold sneer. "But you’re too late. You don’t get to just walk back into my house."

Roxanne kept her face an unreadable mask, her gaze locked onto the space just past his shoulder.

"Did you hear a word I just said?" Christian demanded, stepping forward as his face contorted with sudden anger. "You don’t live here anymore!"

Roxanne stopped a mere two feet from him, exhaling a long, weary breath. The scent of his expensive cologne, a scent that used to spell comfort but now made her stomach turn, drifted between them. "Get out of my way, Christian. You know you can’t do this."

Christian let out a harsh scoff. "Of course I can. I did it last night, and I’ll do it again. I’ll keep doing it until it finally sinks into that thick skull of yours that this is no longer your home."

"I am absolutely exhausted," Roxanne said, her voice quiet, vibrating with a fatigue that went straight to her bones. "Get out of the doorway and let me inside."

Christian threw his head back, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You think this is a game? What did you expect? That you’d watch your boyfriend and his family throw me out like that, and then you could just waltz back here, and I’d welcome you with open arms? Hell no."

Roxanne looked at him, her lips tightening into a thin line. She glanced down at her watch. You’ll have no choice soon.

"Actually, since you’re already here, you might as well pack up the rest of your things and leave for good," Christian spat, stepping closer until he was invading her space. "I’m sure your rich lover can buy you a new penthouse to play in."

"Not happening." Roxanne’s jaw hardened, her eyes flashing with a sudden spark. "You wouldn’t dare."

Christian’s face twisted, his ego visibly bruised by her defiance. "I wouldn’t dare? Me?" he hissed. "Watch me."

Before Roxanne could utter another word, he spun on his heel, retreated into the foyer, and slammed the door shut. The click of the deadbolt locking into place echoed like a gunshot.

Roxanne pressed her palm to her forehead, closing her eyes as a wave of pure exhaustion washed over her. She took a breath, stepped up to the door, and knocked firmly.

"Open the door, Christian," she called out, her voice flat. "I’m tired. Let me in."

Silence answered her.

She knocked again, louder this time. "Open the door."

Then the lock rattled. Roxanne braced herself, taking a half-step forward.

The door swung open, and before she could even process the movement, a heavy mass of fabric was shoved violently into her face. The sheer force of the blow knocked her backward, her heels catching on the edge of the stone step as she struggled to keep her balance.

"There you go!" Christian shouted, hurling another armful of silk and cotton at her chest.

Roxanne’s breath hitched in her throat, her jaw dropping as she looked down at her designer blouses and slacks scattered across the dirty porch and lawn. "How could you—"

"Oh, I’m just getting started," Christian sneered, a manic gleam in his eyes as he turned back inside and slammed the door shut again.

Roxanne stood frozen, staring at the mess. Anguish flashed through her, followed instantly by a searing, white-hot rage. She knelt down, her hands trembling as she tried to gather a handful of her ruined clothes from the dirt.

But before she could even scoop them up, the lock clicked again.

The door flew open, and another pile of dresses rained down on her, draping over her head and shoulders before sliding into the dust.

Roxanne slowly stood up. Her hands curled into tight fists at her sides, her pulse hammering so loudly in her ears it drowned out the ambient noise of the street. She took a deliberate step forward, her eyes blazing.

"Take these clothes back inside. Right now," she commanded, her voice dropping. "Do you have any idea what you’re doing?"

Christian laughed, a triumphant sound. "I know exactly what I’m doing. I am throwing my cheating wife out of my house!"

"Your house?" Roxanne scoffed, a humorless laugh bubbling up in her throat.

Christian puffed his chest out, stepping right up to the threshold. "Yes! My house!"

Roxanne shook her head, looking at him with utter pity, as if he were nothing more than a child throwing a tantrum on a playground. "Stop being pathetic, Christian. Get out of my way so I can take my things inside."

"No!" Christian shot back.

He grabbed the edge of the door, throwing his weight behind it to slam it shut in her face once more. But Roxanne was faster. Her jaw set, she lunged forward and slammed her open palm against the wood with a shocking force.

The door stopped under her hand, halting instantly.

Christian’s eyes widened in genuine shock, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at her.

"You will not throw me out of this house again," Roxanne whispered, her voice laced with a quiet promise as she leaned in, locking her eyes onto his. "Never again."

Christian swallowed hard. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he snapped.

Roxanne smiled, the gesture almost sympathetic.

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