The CEO Above My Desk (Mckenzie Shinabery) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Violet

The guest room at Camille’s doesn’t smell like anything.

That should be comforting.

Neutral. Clean. Safe.

But my body doesn’t understand safe right now. My body understand’s waiting. Like it’s braced for something to happen and hasn’t gotten the message that the door is locked, the system is armed, and there are two men with guns who watched

us walk inside.

Camille’s spare bed is soft in a way my old mattress never was. The sheets are too smooth, the pillow too full. Even the hum of the heater feels expensive. I lie there staring at the ceiling fan that isn’t spinning, listening to the house settle.

Tick.

A pipe shifts.

Click.

The fridge changes cycles.

My mind turns every sound into a footstep.

I squeeze my eyes shut and force my breathing to count.

In for four.

Hold.

Out for six.

It doesn’t help.

The moment I start to drift, the security panel in the hallway beeps-low, polite, like it’s clearing its throat.

I jolt upright so fast my heart trips over itself.

From down the hall, I hear Camille’s door creak and her voice, muffled. “Violet? You okay?”

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Chapter 43

“I’m fine,” I call back automatically.

A lie that falls out of my mouth so smoothly I almost believe it.

Camille’s door closes again.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad to the guest room window. I don’t open the curtains all the way-just

enough to peek through the gap.

Streetlight. Wet pavement. A quiet neighborhood that doesn’t look like trouble.

And then-across the street, half under a tree-an SUV.

Black. Matte. Too clean.

It could be anyone.

It could be nothing.

Except I know it isn’t, because my skin prickles the way it did earlier in the lobby when that blocked number called and

promised I’d be dead soon enough.

I stare at the SUV until my eyes water. It doesn’t move. No headlights. No door opening.

Just… there.

The air inside my throat turns tight and hot. I step back from the window like it might burn me.

Camille said I’d sleep better here.

She meant it. I know she did.

But my brain doesn’t register her apartment as safe. It registers it as a new place I don’t understand yet. Different locks.

Different angles. Different shadows.

2

Different ways to die.

I rub my hands over my face and glance down at my new phone on the nightstand.

It’s absurdly sleek. The case is red. My name is printed on it in clean white lettering like it belongs on a desk in a high- rise, not in my trembling hand at one in the morning.

A phone like this doesn’t feel like a gift.

DIG

GO

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Chapter 43

It feels like a leash.

I unlock it.

There are already contacts in it. Camille. Theo. Devin.

And Rowan.

Just “Rowan.” No last name. No title.

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My thumb hovers over it.

I don’t press it. I don’t call him. That would be insane. I’m not calling my boss at one in the morning because I’m spooked

by a parked car and my own thoughts.

I set the phone down.

The security system clicks again.

Not a beep this time-just a soft mechanical sound, like a camera shifting.

I freeze.

There’s no reason for it to move unless it’s tracking.

Unless it saw something.

Or someone.

I step into the hallway, barefoot on cold wood, and follow the dim nightlight glow toward the front door. The new security

panel sits on the wall like a small black judge.

A green light pulses: ARMED.

Beneath it, a tiny icon of a camera.

I lean in.

A list scrolls on the screen:

Front Door Secure

Back Door Secure

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OOG

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Chapter 43

Living Room Motion – Clear

Hallway Motion – Clear

Front Perimeter – Activity Detected

My stomach drops.

Activity detected.

My heart starts to pound so loud I swear the cameras can hear it.

I tap it.

A grainy still image pops up-someone outside, near the sidewalk. Not close to the door, not breaking in.

Just… standing.

Hood up. Hands in pockets. Facing the house like they’re counting windows.

I stare at the image until my throat aches.

A time stamp glows in the corner.

01:12 AM

I check the clock.

01:13 AM

So it was just now.

My breath comes thin. Too shallow. My head starts to fuzz.

I don’t scream. I don’t run. I don’t wake Camille.

Because what would I even say?

Hey, your expensive new security system just caught a faceless man staring at your house like he’s shopping for a victim.

ワ

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The CEO Above My Desk