The CEO Above My Desk (Mckenzie Shinabery) novel Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Violet

I don’t rush back to my desk.

That would look like relief.

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Instead, I walk in at my normal pace, heels steady against the marble floor, spine straight, expression neutral. The kind of calm that only comes after you’ve already burned through the panic and come out the other side sharper.

The office feels different.

Not loud. Not quiet.

Watchful.

Heads lift. Conversations pause. Someone who used to ignore me outright suddenly pretends to be deeply invested in their screen. Camille looks up the second she sees me and gives me a look that says you survived, followed immediately by holy shit, you survived.

I set my bag down, straighten the folders on my desk, and only then do I feel it.

Him.

Rowan is standing in the doorway of his office.

Jacket off. Sleeves rolled. One hand braced against the doorframe like he’s been there for a while whether to say something first.

long enough to decide

He doesn’t.

So I do.

“You missed your lunch.”

The words land clean. Not accusatory. Not emotional.

Just a fact.

His jaw tightens a fraction. “I know.”

I turn to face him fully. “I handled it.”

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Chapter 51

“I heard.”

“Did you,” I ask quietly, “or did you watch?”

That earns me his full attention.

The office seems to hold its breath.

Rowan steps aside, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

I don’t move.

“No,” I say. “We can do this here.”

His eyes flick to the open floor, then back to me. Something unreadable passes over his face

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

The air snaps.

Every nearby employee suddenly remembers something very important on their screens.

“Yes,” I say.

I follow him.

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not anger. Not irritation.

The door closes behind us with a quiet click that sounds final.

Rowan doesn’t face me right away. He walks to his desk, sets his phone down carefully, then turns. His expression is

controlled, unreadable, eyes sharp and focused like he’s already decided how this conversation will go.

“You don’t question me in front of my employees,” he says.

I keep my spine straight. “You disappeared.”

His gaze flickers quick, assessing.

“And you handled it,” he replies. “You handled it well.”

That acknowledgment lands… but he doesn’t let it soften the moment.

“That does not give you permission to challenge my authority publicly.”

“I wasn’t challenging you,” I say. “I needed direction.”

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Chapter 51

“And you would’ve had it,” he says evenly, “if you’d brought it to me.”

He steps closer. Not invading my space. Claiming it.

“When I step away,” he continues, “you act in my stead. That means discretion. Control. Unity.”

I meet his eyes. “They were disrespectful.”

“They were,” he agrees. “And you shut it down.”

A pause.

“You did exactly what I would’ve done.”

I blink despite myself.

“But,” he adds, voice dropping, “you don’t do it by questioning me where others can hear. If there’s a problem with my absence, you bring it to me. Not the floor. Not the staff.”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

He watches my face, waiting for resistance.

There isn’t any.

“Good,” he says. “Because I will not have my authority undermined in my own building.”

The silence stretches.

Then his tone shifts–not softer, but steadier.

“You represented me well today.”

Something in my chest tightens.

“Next time I step away,” he continues, “you’ll be informed. That’s on me.”

I hadn’t expected that.

“I expect discretion,” he finishes. “In return, you have my backing. Fully.”

I nod once. “Then we’re clear.”

He studies me for a long moment, then says, “One more thing.”

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Chapter 51

“Yes?”

“If I tell you to come into my office,” Rowan says evenly, “you come. We don’t negotiate it in public.”

The words settle heavy in my stomach–not fear.

Awareness.

“Yes, Rowan.”

His eyes sharpen at the sound of his name, but he lets it pass.

“Good,” he says. “You can go.”

I turn for the door.

“Violet.”

I stop again.

His voice is quieter now, but no less controlled.

“Correction isn’t doubt,” he says. “I wouldn’t demand your discretion if I didn’t value your authority.”

look back at him.

“I understand,” I say.

I leave his office composed, pulse steady, spine straight.

The office noise slowly returns behind me.

But something has shifted.

Not broken.

Not threatened.

Defined.

And I know, without a doubt, that whatever this is between Rowan Ashcroft and me, it’s no longer accidental.

I don’t make it three steps from Rowan’s door before Camille pops up out of her chair like a jack–in–the–box with anxiety

issues.

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Chapter 51

“Are you okay?” she whispers, eyes wide, scanning me like I might be bleeding internally.

I pause. Feel my pulse. My pride. My sanity.

Then I shrug.

“Define okay,” I say. “Because I wasn’t fired, threatened, or eaten alive, so by corporate standards, I’m thriving.”

Camille snorts before she can stop herself, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Behind her, Theo, who absolutely, one hundred percent was pretending not to listen–lets out a short laugh.

I glance at him. “You hear that? I survived being lectured by a billionaire. I think I deserve a commemorative mug.”

Theo grins. “I’ll get it printed. I went into Rowan Ashcroft’s office and all I got was psychological development.”

Camille laughs outright now, shoulders shaking. “God, I was sure you were about to come out looking like a ghost.”

“Oh, I did,” I say lightly. “But a very efficient, emotionally repressed ghost.”

Theo leans back against the desk, clearly amused. “You handled it, though. Didn’t cry. Didn’t stab him. Growth.”

I arch a brow. “The day’s not over.”

That earns another laugh, this one louder, and I feel something loosen in my chest.

Rowan’s door stays closed behind me.

I sit, pick up the phone, and the office starts moving again, because it always does.

And because I make it.

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