He Wants An Open Marriage? Done!

A cold wave of disdain curled Roxanne’s upper lip. She reached out with her free hand, wrapping her fingers over the back of Richard’s warm palm.

"He would never make a deal like that with you," she said, her voice steady. She looked Christian dead in the eye, her chin lifted high. "And if you step one inch closer to me, I’m calling the police."

Christian’s face twisted into an ugly mask of rage. In two aggressive strides, he closed the distance between them and slammed his open palm onto the table right in front of her. BANG!

The glass water tumblers rattled on their coasters.

"That’s close enough." Richard forced the words through clenched teeth.

But Christian ignored him and stepped closer. He leaned down until his face was inches from hers, his hot breath smelling faintly of coffee as it hit her cheek. "I dare you to call them," he hissed through clenched teeth, thick veins bulging along his neck.

Roxanne’s breath hitched in her throat, the sudden proximity striking a brief spike of terror in her chest.

Beside her, Richard’s body went completely rigid, his broad shoulders locking as his grip on her hand tightened until it was almost painful. Yet around the table, the air grew painfully thin.

No one dared to breathe.

Roxanne glanced at Richard, but he hadn’t moved. His face was a mask of cold, stone-like composure, his dark eyes fixed squarely on the documents in front of him.

An arrogant laugh broke from Christian’s chest. "What were you expecting, Roxanne? That your knight in shining armor would jump up and fight me? Look at him. He’s terrified."

Roxanne kept her mouth shut, though every muscle in her upper body burned to throw her elbow into his jaw and send him sprawling across the floor. She wanted him in a cell. She wanted him gone forever.

But she forced herself to sit still, her ribs aching from the strain of holding her composure.

"Your biggest flaw has always been the same," Christian sneered, leaning in closer until she could see the tiny red capillaries in his wild eyes. "You never listen to me. You’d rather take the word of any stranger off the street over your own husband’s."

A white-hot spike of fury wiped away her fear.

"Ex!" Roxanne forced the word out through her teeth, her chest heaving as she glared at him with pure hatred. "Ex-husband! Now get your pathetic face out of my sight before I make you regret it!"

Christian didn’t back away. Instead, he dropped his head lower, his jaw locked hard. "Make me. Go on, Roxanne, I dare you to try."

Her temper snapped. Roxanne yanked her hand, trying to wrench herself free from Richard’s grasp so she could stand up to face him, but Richard’s fingers clamped down like an iron vise, trapping her in place.

Roxanne’s head whipped around to look at Richard, her nostrils flaring, her chest rising and falling in fast, angry hitches. Her other hand was balled into a white-knuckled fist.

Richard looked back at her and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head. "Stay calm," he murmured, his voice deep and smooth against the chaos.

Roxanne’s lungs burned as she fought to regain control of her breathing. She darted a quick glance across the table. Henry caught her eye and gave the slightest shake of his head. Don’t take his bait..

"Why aren’t you saying anything, Richard?" Roxanne demanded in a furious whisper, her blood boiling as Christian hovered over them.

Richard looked at her again, his dark eyes locking onto hers with absolute calm. "Because I have no intention of playing his pathetic games," he said softly, his tone completely dismissive of the man standing right beside them. "And neither should you."

Christian scoffed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed around the high ceiling. "For a man whose entire family empire is hanging by a thread, you talk remarkably big," he spat, glaring down at the side of Richard’s head, the muscle in his cheek twitching violently.

Richard didn’t even grant him a glance. He simply turned his attention back to the papers on the table.

Christian’s eyes swept across the boardroom, taking in the unbothered, stony expressions of the board members. He let out a sharp, irritated breath and straightened his suit jacket with a flick of his wrists.

"I can see that none of you are taking this situation seriously," Christian said, his voice dropping into a dismissive tone. "Therefore, I’ve made my decision."

A few subtle brows furrowed around the table, but no one spoke.

Christian adjusted his silk tie and let out a dry laugh. "I am no longer interested in negotiating with any of you," he announced, puffing out his chest. "We’re done here."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and began stalking toward the double doors.

Roxanne’s mouth fell open in utter disbelief. Is he serious? He’s just going to walk out? She looked around the table, expecting panic, but the board members remained completely still. Their faces were smooth, settled, and eerily quiet.

Her pulse began to race against her skin. She leaned closer to Richard, her hand trembling against his. "Aren’t you going to stop him?" she whispered urgently, her chest tight. "Richard, he’s leaving!"

Richard didn’t move an inch. His thumb traced one slow circle across the back of her hand. He didn’t even raise his head, his face a picture of total serenity as he watched Christian stride across the carpet.

Christian didn’t look back. He reached out, his hand extending to push open the door when it suddenly swung inward on its own.

Christian froze, taking a sudden step backward.

Standing in the open doorway was Amelia, his former personal assistant. Her face was pale with fear, her posture rigid.

Christian’s face drained of color in an instant. He glanced back toward the boardroom, confused, before turning his gaze back to her. "Amelia?" he asked, his voice cracking into a thin whisper. "What? What are you doing here?"

Amelia didn’t answer him. She didn’t even offer him a glance. Her eyes looked straight past his shoulder, staring directly at Richard like Christian didn’t even exist.

Before Christian could process what was happening, two large men in dark tailored suits stepped up directly behind Amelia, blocking the entire width of the hallway.

Christian stumbled back another inch, his eyes wide with rising panic. "Who are you, people?" He spun around to face the boardroom, his gaze darting frantically to Richard. "What is this? What the hell is going on here?"

"I told you to take a seat, Christian," Henry’s calm, weathered voice drifted across the room, authoritative and dry. "But you refused to listen."

Christian shook his head, his hands beginning to tremble at his sides as he backed away from the men in the doorway. "No! I’m leaving! I have no interest in talking to any of you!"

"It’s a bit too late for that," Richard said smoothly. A faint smile touched the corner of his lips as he finally lifted his eyes to meet Christian’s frantic gaze. "Now sit down. We’ve wasted enough time playing your games. It’s time to talk business."

Christian stood frozen in the middle of the floor, his face completely pale, his chest heaving with helpless panic.

Beside Richard, Roxanne felt the heavy knot of tension in her chest dissolve, replaced by a small smile that spread across her lips.