The CEO Above My Desk (Mckenzie Shinabery) novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Violet

The ride out of the restaurant is quiet.

Not awkward. Not tense.

7

Intentional.

The city blurs past the tinted windows of Rowan’s private vehicle, lights smearing into something distant and unreal. The driver doesn’t speak. He never does. Rowan sits beside me, jacket off now, posture relaxed in a way that still feels commanding.

I fold my hands in my lap and stare straight ahead for a full minute before I speak.

“Can you drop me off at the police station?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer immediately.

His gaze shifts to me-slow, deliberate. Not surprised. Not confused.

“Which one?” he asks.

“Fifth and International.”

Another pause.

Then, “Yes.”

Just like that.

The car changes direction without comment.

I swallow, tension easing slightly, and then he adds, “Keep the dress.”

I turn toward him. “What?”

“It suits you better than it ever did Avery,” he says, tone flat, final. “Consider it reassigned.”

I don’t argue. I don’t thank him right away either. I just nod once, absorbing it.

“I’ll update everything once I’m home,” I say instead. “Private notes. Dinner details. Investor commitments. I’ll keep it off the main system.”

His jaw tightens-not disapproval. Approval.

“Good.”

89

Silence settles again.

The police station comes into view far too quickly. The building squats under harsh lighting, familiar and unwelcome. My stomach tightens instinctively.

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Chapter 12

The car slows.

Before the driver can open the door, Rowan reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card.

Black. Matte. No logo. Just a name and a number embossed in silver.

He holds it out to me.

“What’s this?” I ask, already knowing it isn’t small.

“My attorney,” he says. “Use him if necessary. I’ll cover it.”

“I can’t do that,” I say immediately.

“You can,” he replies.

“And I won’t.”

He turns fully toward me then, eyes sharp. “You will.”

I shake my head. “Rowan-”

“I don’t need my top employee distracted by legal nonsense,” he cuts in. “Or sitting in a holding cell because a detective wants to posture.”

My mouth tightens,

“You make me thousands of dollars an hour,” he continues, voice low. “I’m not replacing you with someone incompetent because you’re trying to be principled.”

A beat.

“I’ve already tolerated Avery,” he adds. “I won’t do it again.”

I stare at the card.

Then I take it.

“…Thank you,” I say quietly.

He nods once, like the matter is closed.

The car stops.

I step out onto the sidewalk, the night air cold against my exposed skin. I straighten the dress automatically, tugging it down even though it won’t move.

The door closes behind me.

I watch the car pull away, taillights disappearing into traffic, taking Rowan Ashcroft with it.

Then I turn toward the police station.

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09:51 Tue, May 5

Chapter 12

I hate this place.

Not because I hate authority. Not because I hate procedure.

I hate it because of him.

Because Detective Calder knows exactly how to push. Exactly how to make my skin crawl: Exactly how to make me feel like I’m already guilty of something I

didn’t do.

I square my shoulders and walk inside anyway.

The front desk is louder than I remember.

Phones ringing. Boots on tile. Laughter that feels out of place. Then it stops-just enough for me to notice the way Detective Calder freezes when he sees

He does a double take.

Actually stops mid-sentence.

His mouth parts before he can stop it. Around him, two other detectives glance up-and then stare. Not subtly. Not politely.

I don’t slow.

I meet Calder’s eyes and say evenly, “Are you going to question me, or should I go home?”

The moment snaps.

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Chapter 12

Calder stands too, blocking my path as I try to move past him. “Sit down.”

“Get out of my way,” I yell, voice cracking. “You had no right-”

“You’re not leaving,” he says sharply.

I freeze.

“What?” I whisper.

His jaw tightens. “You’re now a person of interest.”

I laugh-hysterical, broken. “Are you fucking serious?”

“You were the last number your brother called,” he says. “Minutes before his phone went dark.”

My knees feel weak. “That doesn’t mean-

“It means,” he interrupts, “that until we establish otherwise, you’re a suspect.”

The word hits harder than the news itself.

“You waited,” I sob. “You waited to tell me my brother was dead just so you could corner me?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps.

“No,” I shout back. “This is enough. I want a lawyer.”

Calder’s expression shifts-calculating. “Can you even afford one?”

That does it.

“Fuck you,” I hiss. “You don’t get to ask me that.”

I wipe my face with the back of my hand, shaking but furious now. “I want my phone call. Now!”

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The CEO Above My Desk