All Chapters of I AGREED TO MY HUSBAND'S OPEN MARRIAGE RULES: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

STACY'S POVOther questions came, about timelines, about legal vetting of the historical impact claim, about engineering feasibility. I answered each one, my confidence growing with each response. This was my language. This was where I was strong.Finally, the questions trickled to a stop. Michael looked around. “Good. Teams, you have your marching orders. Legal, start drafting the compliance exhibits around the alloy and the wetland. Community relations, build out the vocational program proposal. Engineering, I want three design sketches by end of day that incorporate the Caltron specs and the extended bridge path. Dismissed.”Chairs scraped. The room erupted into the buzz of activity. People filed out, several stopping to nod at me or say, “Impressive work, Stacy.”As the room cleared, Michael stayed seated. Janice was the last to leave. She paused at the door, looked back at me, and gave a single, slow nod. It wasn’t friendly. But it was recognition. Then she was gone.The door sig

STACY'S POVThe warmth of the bed was a lie. My body was curled against Michael’s, my head on his chest, but my mind was a circling hawk. The quiet hum of the city outside our window did nothing to settle the buzz under my skin. The presentation had been a triumph. The partnership offer, a dream. But a cold, sharp sliver of doubt had lodged itself in my gut the moment we’d left that conference room.He held back. The thought was a relentless tap against my skull. He let me reveal the strategy, but not the full execution. Why?I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. He was awake. I could tell by the careful stillness of his breathing.“Michael?” My voice was soft in the dark.“Hmm?” His hand, which had been resting on my hip, stroked a slow path up my spine.“At the presentation. You stopped me from going into the full financial triggers. The exact contingency clauses.” I shifted to look up at him. The dim light from the window outlined his sharp jaw. “The team only got half the

STACY'S POVHis tongue was relentless. A broad, flat stroke that lapped up all my wetness, then focused on my clit. He didn’t tease. He devoured. His lips closed around the bundle of nerves and sucked, hard, while his tongue flicked rapidly. Pleasure, white-hot and shocking, detonated in my core. I screamed, my hands flying to grip the duvet. My legs trembled, trying to close, but his shoulders held them wide open.“Don’t you dare run,” he muttered against me, his breath hot on my soaked skin. He slid two fingers inside me, curling them. He found that spot deep inside instantly, rubbing it in a firm, relentless rhythm as his mouth continued its devastating work.I came apart. The orgasm ripped through me with no warning, a convulsive wave that made my whole body seize. I sobbed, seeing stars, my hips bucking uncontrollably against his face. He didn’t stop. He drew it out, licking and sucking through every last pulse until the sensation was too much, a sharp edge of overstimulation.I

STACY'S POVThe memory hits me like a physical blow, sharp and sour in the back of my throat. The dark van. The scratchy hood over my head. The smell of stale cigarettes and fear. I never saw his face. Just a voice, rough and disembodied, telling me to be a good girl, that this was a warning.A warning for what? For leaving Matt? For building a life with Michael?It’s useless. Going to meet some anonymous threat in the gardens? It’s a trap so obvious a child could see it. He wants me scared. He wants me running blindly into the dark.Not this time.My personal phone feels heavy in my hand, the text message still glowing on the screen. An unknown number. I don’t hesitate. I call it back.It rings. Once. Twice.A male voice answers, distorted, maybe by a cheap device. “Impatient, Mrs. Sotheby?”“Since you’re so eager to talk, let’s talk now,” I say, my voice colder than I feel. I walk to my office window, looking out at the manicured lawn. “Save us both the drama of a midnight stroll. Yo

STACY'S POVMy hands shook so hard I could barely grip the steering wheel. The digital clock on the dashboard glowed 6:45 PM. The traced location from Matt’s call was a beacon on my burner phone’s screen—a warehouse district by the old river docks. Michael knows. He has to know. I reached for my personal phone, my thumb hovering over his name.The screen lit up with a new text. Unknown number, but I knew.Don’t even think about calling your knight in shining armor. You come alone. You come quiet. Or you will never see her again. I will make sure of it. The address is below. 8 PM.The words were a chokehold. I stared, my blood turning to ice. He’s watching. How is he watching?I forced a slow, deep breath that did nothing to calm the storm inside. Okay. Okay, Stacy. Think. I couldn’t call Michael. Couldn’t speak. But I wasn’t helpless. The burner phone was still in my lap, the tracking app open. My fingers, moving with a will of their own, tapped forward. I selected the address from Ma