All Chapters of I AGREED TO MY HUSBAND'S OPEN MARRIAGE RULES: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Stacy's POVThe house was too quiet. It felt wrong. The faint scent of his cologne still hung in the hallway, but he was gone. I paced my bedroom, my phone heavy in my hand.I have to hear his voice.I didn't think. I just dialed. It rang once, then a robotic female voice cut in. "The number you have dialed is not available." My heart sank. He'd blocked me. Actually blocked me. After everything—breaking into my house, the threats, the kiss—he just... shut me out.He's punishing me. He's angry. The thought felt childish, but it rang true. A cold knot of panic formed in my stomach. He'd said he loved me, then walked away. Which part was the lie?My assistant, Sarah, found me staring blankly at my computer screen an hour later. "Ms. Reed? A courier just dropped these off. From Mr. Sotheby's office. They need your signature."She placed a thick legal folder on my desk. My blood ran cold. Documents. He was moving forward without me. Making decisions. Cutting me out."Did his assistant say

Stacy's POVMy heart was pounding so hard it hurt. I didn't look back. I just ran, Matt's cold smirk burned into my mind. He's out. How is he out? The hallway of the Kingston stretched endlessly, all plush carpet and silent doors. My breath came in ragged gasps.Suite 1200. The numbers blurred in my vision. I skidded to a stop, my hand shaking as I raised it to knock. The door swung open before my knuckles touched it.Michael stood there, shirtless, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His hair was messy, his eyes sharp and clear now—the drunk haze from earlier was gone. He looked me over, from my wild eyes to my undone pants, his expression turning to ice."Back so soon?" His voice was low and rough. "Forget something?""He's here," I blurted, pushing past him into the suite. I couldn't stay out in that hallway. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, my chest heaving.He watched me, sipping his whiskey. "Who?""Matt. My ex-husband. He just... he found me. In the hallway."Mic

Michael's POVThe villa was too quiet. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window in the main living area, watching the long driveway. My fingers tapped a restless rhythm against my thigh. I couldn't sit. Couldn't think about Waltham's games or Matt's smug face. All I could think about was that she was coming here. To my home. With our daughter.She's finally where she belongs.The thought was a fierce, warm pulse in my chest, cutting through the cold anger from earlier. She'd run from me for so long. Avoided my calls, pulled away from my touch. Now, because of that bastard, she had no choice but to run straight into my arms. The irony was perfect. I'd take her any way I could get her.Headlights cut through the dusk. A black sedan. Marcus.My heart did a strange, hard thump. They're here.I forced myself to stay at the window, to not look too eager. But every muscle was tight with anticipation. The car stopped at the front steps. Marcus got out, opening the rear door.Stacy emerged first

Stacy's POVHis kiss was deep and demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like he owned it. My body responded instantly, melting against his, but my mind was screaming. This was a trick. A way to pull me back under his control when I was trying to stand on my own.With a surge of anger, I shoved against his chest. Hard.He stumbled back a step, surprise flashing in his eyes.I glared at him, my middle finger rising between us. "Don't try that trick again, Michael," I said, my voice shaking with more than just anger. "Just... fuck off."

Stacy's POVThe scent of sugar and yeast couldn't cover the stale taste of gossip in the air. I stood behind the counter at Sweet Rise, my fingers gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white. Every time the bell jingled, I flinched.He's not coming back. The police took him. He's not coming back.But the damage was done. Elena and Ben kept shooting me worried glances between customers. The morning rush had been full of whispers, of people staring a little too long at my face, at my hands. I'd overheard a woman at Table Three ask her friend if the little girl she'd sometimes seen with me was "that violent man's child."My stomach twisted into a cold knot. I wanted to scream. To explain that Millie was nothing like him, that she was pure light. But explaining felt like justifying. Like opening a door I'd sealed shut.At the first quiet moment, I pulled Ben aside. "If anyone asks," I said, my voice low and tight, "you tell them Matt Reed is my ex-husband. We are divorced. End of sto