The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 148

***Rowan***

The door closes behind the mayor and the quiet that follows isn’t relief. It isn’t calm. It’s the kind of silence that hums, heavy with everything we just set into motion.

I stand there for a second, looking at the empty doorway, then at Devin.

He’s already back at it. Phone in one hand, tablet in the other, voice low and sharp as he starts issuing instructions. Filing. Calling. Locking things down before anyone else can touch them.

Good.

Let him handle it.

Because right now, I don’t care about any of it.

I turn, walking back to my desk, my fingers already reaching for the tablet I left sitting there. The screen lights up the second I pick it up, properties still pulled up, layouts, notes, security overlays I started mapping out the moment this situation crossed a line.

I move then towards the stairs. Down the stairs, not rushing but not slow either. Every step feels deliberate, like I’m choosing where to place my focus. Choosing what matters.

And the second I see her, that choice is made for me.

She’s at the bottom of the stairs now, standing near the door, saying goodbye to the mayor’s assistant. There’s something softer about her right now. Something grounded. Like she stepped out of the storm upstairs and decided she wasn’t going to carry it with her.

The assistant says something to her quietly, and Violet smiles.

Not polite.

Real.

Then the assistant follows the mayor out, the door closing behind her.

And just like that... It’s just her.

My grip tightens slightly around the tablet.

Because that moment... That small, normal interaction.... It does something to me I don’t like ignoring.

It reminds me how easily that could’ve been taken from her.

From *me.*

***No***. I move before the thought can go any further.

Cross the space between us in a few steps, my hand sliding to her waist the second I reach her, firm, grounding, not giving her time to question it.

She turns toward me, a little surprised. “Rowan—”

I don’t answer.

I sit, pulling her with me in one smooth motion, settling her directly onto my lap like it’s instinct. Like it’s always been this way.

Like it should’ve been this way from the beginning.

Her breath catches slightly as her hands come up to steady herself against my shoulders.

“Hi,” she says, a little breathless.

I don’t respond right away. I just look at her. Take her in. Make sure she’s still here. Still untouched by everything that tried to reach her today.

My hand slides up to her jaw, thumb brushing slowly along her skin.

“You okay?” she asks softly.

“I should be asking you that.”

“I’m okay,” she says. “Really.”

I don’t fully believe it. But she’s holding together. And that’s enough for now.

My hand moves to the back of her neck, holding her there gently but firmly, keeping her exactly where I want her.

Close. Within reach. Safe.

“You did good today,” I say.

Her brows lift slightly. “Good?”

“Better than good.”

Something shifts in her eyes, something softer, something that accepts the weight of that instead of pushing it away.

“You heard everything?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“And?”

I tilt my head slightly. “You handled yourself the way I would have.”

That lands.

I feel it in the way her body shifts slightly against mine, the way she processes it instead of shrinking from it.

My hand slides from her neck down to her waist again, keeping her anchored there as I shift the tablet between us.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’ve been thinking.”

She stills just slightly at that. She’s learning. Good.

I turn the screen toward her. Properties fill the display. Homes. Layouts. Blueprints layered with notes and security overlays I started sketching out the second this situation shifted.

Her brows pull together. “Rowan…”

“I don’t like this setup,” I say.

She glances around the penthouse.

“It’s temporary,” I continue. “It was always temporary.”

Her gaze returns to the screen. Slower now. More focused.

“For us,” I add.

She freezes. Just for a second.

“For us?” she repeats.

“Yes.”

The word is simple. Final.

“I think it’s time we pick a house.”

Silence settles between us. Not uncomfortable. Just heavy with what that actually means.

“You’re serious,” she says.

“I don’t do things halfway.”

Her eyes scan the images again. Large spaces. Private access. Controlled environments. Places where I can see every entry point. Every vulnerability. Every angle someone might try to exploit.

“Rowan…” she starts, quieter now. “This is a lot.”

“I know.”

“And fast.”

“Yes.”

She looks back at me. Really looks. “Why now?”

I don’t hesitate. “Because I’m not putting you in a position where anyone can touch you again.”

Her breath catches. There it is. That moment where it clicks for her. This isn’t about a house.

It’s about control. Protection. Her.

My hand presses slightly into her hip, grounding, steady. “I’ll make adjustments,” I say. “Security systems. Access points. Reinforced entries. Surveillance. Everything.” I lean in just slightly, my voice dropping. “Whatever we pick, I make it untouchable.”

She stares at me. Longer now. Taking it in. Understanding what I’m really offering. What I’m really saying.

“You’ve already planned all this,” she says.

“Yes.”

“Do I get a say?”

That almost pulls a smile out of me. Almost.

“Yes.”

Her brows lift. “Really?”

“I’m not building a house for you,” I say. “I’m building one with you.”

That hits. I see it land. Feel it in the way her body softens slightly against mine instead of holding tension.

Because now she understands. This isn’t control over her. This is control for her.

My hand moves up her spine slowly, steady, deliberate. “Pick something you like,” I murmur. “I’ll handle the rest.”

She looks down at the screen again. Then back at me.

And there’s something there now. Something stronger than before. Not hesitation. Not fear. Choice.

“Okay,” she says quietly.

And that’s it. No hesitation. No pulling back. No second guessing.

She chooses this. She chooses me. Again. This time without pressure. Without chaos forcing her hand.

My grip tightens just slightly at her waist, pulling her closer against me.

Because now I know. She’s not going anywhere.

And I’m not letting anything get close enough to make her.

Not again. Not ever.

Whatever comes next, whatever this turns into, whatever burns down around us... She stays with me. Where she’s safe. Where she’s protected.

Where she belongs.