The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 131

***Violet***

The quiet doesn’t last.

The bathroom door creaks open just slightly, the sound soft enough that I almost miss it over the faint hum of the faucet still dripping.

My head turns, my heart jumping just a little.

Rowan.

Of course it’s Rowan.

Except… it’s not.

Camille steps inside instead, carefully nudging the door shut behind her like she doesn’t want to disturb something fragile. Her eyes find me immediately, taking me in where I’m half-submerged in the tub, surrounded by bubbles and steam.

“Oh,” she says softly, like she wasn’t expecting to find me like this.

I let out a breath, my shoulders sinking a little deeper into the water. “Hey.”

She doesn’t hesitate. She crosses the bathroom and pulls the small stool out from beside the sink, dragging it over before sitting down next to the tub.

I blink at it for a second.

“Why is there a stool in here?” I ask, genuinely confused.

Camille glances at it, then shrugs. “Rich people shit,” she mutters. “Probably for like… aesthetic baths or something.”

Despite everything, a small, weak laugh slips out of me.

Then it fades just as quickly.

Her expression softens as she leans forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” I say automatically.

Too fast.

Too easy.

Too much of a lie.

Because the second the words leave my mouth, my throat tightens, my vision blurs, and the tears come before I can stop them.

Camille doesn’t say anything at first.

She just reaches forward, slipping her hand into the water, ignoring the bubbles as she finds mine and squeezes it gently.

Warm.

Steady.

Real.

“Hey,” she murmurs. “It’s okay.”

I shake my head slightly, trying to pull it together, but it’s useless. Everything is sitting too close to the surface.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she continues, her voice soft but firm. “We’re going to figure this out. You’re not in this alone anymore, okay? We’ll get through it. Together.”

Together.

The word settles somewhere deep in my chest.

I swallow hard, nodding faintly, even though I’m not sure I believe it yet.

Trying.

I take a shaky breath, wiping at my face with my free hand before glancing at her. “How did everything go… with Theo?”

Camille makes a weird noise.

Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sigh.

Something in between.

Something uncomfortable.

My brows knit together as I watch her reach into her pocket, pulling something out. At first, I think it’s a pen, something random she’s been carrying around, but when she flips it over in her fingers—

My breath catches.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, excitement sparking instantly despite everything else. “Is that—”

She nods once.

But she doesn’t smile.

And that… that kills the excitement almost as fast as it came.

“Have you told him?” I ask, looking up at her.

She shakes her head.

Slow.

Hesitant.

“I don’t know what to do,” she finally admits, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard it. “I mean… I want to tell him. I do. But…” She exhales, looking away for a second. “I don’t want to be with someone who sees me as a second thought, you know?”

The words hit harder than they should.

I squeeze her hand this time, trying to give her the same comfort she gave me. “Maybe you’re not a second thought,” I say. “Maybe he’s just… stupid.”

That gets the faintest hint of a smile.

But it doesn’t stick.

“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “I just… I don’t want to say something and then realize I was never really what he wanted in the first place.”

My chest tightens.

Because god, isn’t that the fear?

With Theo.

With Rowan.

With everything.

I open my mouth to say something else, something reassuring, something that might actually help—

But nothing comes out.

Because I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

How am I supposed to help her when I can barely hold myself together?

Frustration twists sharply in my chest.

Then anger.

Hot.

Sudden.

Burning through everything else.

No.

No, I’m not doing this.

Not sitting here. Not drowning in this. Not letting everything just happen to us.

Something snaps.

I surge up out of the tub, water spilling over the sides as I stand, breath sharp, heart pounding. Camille startles slightly as I reach for the large, fluffy towel hanging nearby, yanking it down and wrapping it tightly around myself.

“What are you doing?” she asks, surprised.

I don’t answer.

Not right away.

Because I’m already moving.

I grab her wrist, firm, determined.

“Come on,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “Let’s go.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Go where?”

I meet her gaze, something fierce settling into my chest.

“We’re not sitting around feeling like second choices,” I tell her. “Not today.”

My grip tightens just enough to pull her with me.

I hold the towel tighter against my body, gripping the edge of it like my life depends on it, silently praying it doesn’t slip as I step out into the bedroom. 

I don’t think.

I just follow the voices.

Up the stairs.

Each step feels louder than it should, my heartbeat matching the rhythm as I climb toward the loft. Their voices grow clearer, overlapping—low, controlled, focused. Work mode. All of them.

Rowan. Theo. Devin.

Planning. Fixing. Controlling.

Meanwhile everything is falling apart.

Not tonight.

Not anymore.

I reach the top of the stairs and step into the loft.

“Theo!” I snap, my voice cutting through the space like a blade.

That does it.

Everything stops.

Theo straightens slightly, caught off guard, while Devin’s brows lift in mild surprise. But Rowan—

Rowan’s face darkens instantly.

His eyes drag over me, slow, assessing, taking in the towel, the bare skin, the fact that I am very much not dressed.

“Why aren’t you clothed?” he asks, his voice low, controlled, but there’s an edge there. A warning.

I ignore him.

Completely.

My focus locks onto Theo.

I step further into the room, still clutching the towel, still very aware of how exposed I am, but I don’t care.

Not right now.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand.

Theo blinks at me. “What—”

“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head, anger bubbling up fast now. “Don’t ‘what’ me. I’m serious. What the hell are you doing?”

He glances briefly at Rowan, like he’s trying to figure out if he should even be answering me right now.

Wrong move.

“Look at me,” I snap.

His eyes snap back to mine.

“Camille is downstairs,” I continue, my voice sharp, unwavering. “And she is sitting there thinking she means nothing to you.”

Theo’s jaw tightens slightly. “That’s not—”

“Then fix it,” I shoot back.