The CEO Above My Desk (Mckenzie Shinabery) novel Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Rowan

I stare at my phone longer than I should.

Violet’s message sits unread at the top of the screen-not because I haven’t seen it, but because I know if I answer, I’ll

anchor myself back to the office. To her. To normalcy.

And nothing about today is normal.

I lock the phone and slip it into my jacket just as the port authority advisor clears his throat.

He’s sweating.

Not from heat-the room is cold, aggressively so-but from the knowledge that this conversation never officially

happened.

We aren’t in his real office. That would require forms. Logs. Justification.

Instead, we’re in a forgotten side room that smells like mildew and old paper, a flickering fluorescent light buzzing above

us like it’s barely hanging on.

He keeps glancing at the door.

“You understand,” he says carefully, “that this isn’t something I normally-”

“I understand,” I interrupt calmly. “You don’t do this. You don’t know me. And this room doesn’t exist.”

His shoulders loosen by a fraction.

Money sits on the desk between us-not waved, not offered, just present. A reminder. A language we both speak fluently.

He swallows and turns back to the computer. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“Dock access exceptions,” I say. “Cash payments. Any record that doesn’t make sense on paper.”

A humorless laugh slips out of him. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

I step closer, lowering my voice. “I’m looking for the name Drew Pierce.”

His fingers hesitate over the keyboard.

1/7

Chapter 48

That’s all the confirmation I need.

He exhales slowly. “You’re not the first person to ask about him.”

That makes my jaw tighten. “Who else asked?”

He shakes his head immediately. “I can’t-”

I slide another stack of bills forward, not breaking eye contact.

His gaze drops.

Then he sighs. “Vice. Once. A while back. Didn’t stick.”

I don’t comment.

He opens a drawer and pulls out a thick binder-yellowed pages, handwritten notes, margins filled with codes that don’t appear in any official training manual.

“This isn’t digital,” he mutters. “For a reason.”

He flips pages quickly, then slower.

Stops.

“There,” he says, tapping the paper like it might burn him.

I lean in.

Drew Pierce.

More than one entry.

“Why is his name here more than once?” I ask.

The advisor doesn’t look at me. “Because he paid more than once.”

“For what?”

He hesitates, then shrugs. “Access. Time. Silence.”

I flip the page myself.

More entries.

2/7

19:30 Fri, May 8

Chapter 48

Same vessel.

Same pattern.

I trace my finger along the margin until I find it.

TESLA-LE-Vessel 69849.

“Tell me about that boat,” I say.

His mouth tightens. “You don’t want to know.”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

He rubs his face. “Comes in four times a week. Always clears fast. Always docks in the same area. Always someone higher up telling us to move along.”

“Who?”

He laughs softly, bitter. “If I knew that, I’d already be gone.”

“How much was Drew paying?” I press.

He finally looks at me. “Enough that someone noticed when he stopped.”

That lands hard.

“When did he stop?” I ask.

The advisor checks the log. “About a week after he was reported missing.”

My pulse ticks once.

A week.

I take out my phone and photograph every page Drew’s name appears on.

The advisor turns away, suddenly interested in the wall.

“Cameras,” I say. “That dock.”

He sighs. “Yeah. But the quality-”

“I don’t care,” I cut in. “Pull them up.”

3/7

19:30 Fri, May 8

Chapter 48

He does, fingers moving faster now, nervous energy taking over.

Multiple feeds load.

Static. Grain. Shadows.

“Go back,” I say. “Two weeks ago. Night shift.”

He scrolls.

I watch timestamps roll past until something tightens in my chest.

“Stop.”

He freezes the frame.

There-under harsh dock lights-is Drew.

Alive.

Talking to someone just off-camera.

I step closer, reaching for the mouse without asking. The advisor lets me.

I rewind.

Zoom in.

The footage is shit, but Drew’s face is unmistakable. Tense. Focused. Not relaxed.

“Who’s that with him?” I ask.

The advisor squints. “Hard to tell. That angle’s always been a problem.”

They talk-no sound, just gestures.

Drew points toward the warehouse.

They walk inside.

I don’t need to see what happens next.

I already know.

4/7

Fri, May 8

Chapter 48

I press record on my phone, capturing the footage straight from the screen.

The advisor clears his throat. “You shouldn’t-”

“I’m already here,” I reply evenly.

I finish recording and slide several hundred across the desk.

He doesn’t touch it until I’m already standing.

Outside, the dock air is thick-salt, oil, rust.

I breathe it in slowly.

Drew Pierce wasn’t just unlucky.

He was entangled.

And someone decided he knew too much-or stopped being useful.

My phone buzzes.

Theo.

Theo: First meeting didn’t explode. She negotiated. They listened. Old bastard actually sat down.

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding finally leaves me.

Of course she did.

Me: Good.

My thumb hovers over Violet’s name again.

I read her message this time.

Professional. Calm. Focused.

She’s holding the line while I’m standing in the rot underneath it.

I could answer.

I should.

5/7

19:30 Fri, May 8

Chapter 48

But if I do, I won’t stop.

And right now, I need to finish tearing this open.

I lock the phone.

Not today.

Today is for truth.

Even if it burns everything that comes with it.

I’m halfway into the backseat when my phone vibrates again.

Theo.

I don’t sit down yet. One hand grips the door frame, the other pulls the phone free as rain starts to mist across the docks.

Theo: Lobby group’s being assholes.

I stare at the screen for a second longer than necessary.

That could mean anything. Too vague. Too casual.

My jaw tightens.

Me: Is Violet okay?

Three dots appear.

Disappear.

Reappear.

Then-

A fucking thumbs up.

I exhale sharply through my nose. “You have got to be kidding me.”

6/7

18

19:30 Fri, May 8

The CEO Above My Desk