The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 150

***Violet***

I don’t even realize I’ve stopped scrolling until Rowan shifts closer behind me.

Close enough that I can feel the heat of him along my back. Close enough that I don’t have to turn to know he’s reading over my shoulder, analyzing every detail the way he does with everything.

“What is it?” he asks quietly.

I tilt the tablet just slightly, zooming in on the property again.

“This one,” I say.

The house sits tucked deep into the woods, barely visible through the trees. The aerial view shows just how far back it is from the main road, the long gravel driveway weaving through dense greenery before opening up into a clearing.

It doesn’t look like it’s trying to be impressive.

It just… exists.

Like it belongs there.

“It’s isolated,” Rowan murmurs immediately.

Of course that’s the first thing he notices.

“Yeah,” I say, zooming further. “But not like… empty isolated. It feels… intentional.”

He hums quietly.

I swipe to the next image.

The front of the house fills the screen. Soft white siding, warm wood accents, a wraparound porch that hugs the entire structure like it’s meant to be lived on.

“There’s a porch swing,” I point out, smiling slightly. “Two of them.”

Rowan’s hand comes to rest lightly against the back of the couch behind me, bracing himself as he leans in more.

“Open sight lines,” he says, more to himself. “We can reinforce the railings, add discreet cameras along the beams. Motion sensors along the perimeter of the porch.”

I blink. Of course. I’m seeing comfort. He’s seeing coverage.

“That’s not creepy at all,” I tease.

“It’s necessary,” he replies calmly.

I roll my eyes a little but keep going.

“Six bedrooms,” I read, scrolling. “Four baths… oh—look at this kitchen.”

It’s warm. Open. Wood cabinets, big island, windows that let in a ridiculous amount of natural light.

I can already picture it.

Coffee in the morning. Cooking. Living.

Rowan doesn’t comment on the kitchen.

He’s already zooming into another image. “The driveway is too exposed,” he says. “We’d need a secondary gate point here… maybe split access. One visible, one controlled.”

“You’re already redesigning it,” I say.

“Yes.”

I laugh softly. Of course he is.

I scroll again.

The backyard opens up. And that’s when I see it again. The greenhouse.

Tucked just off to the side, sunlight pouring through the glass, surrounded by just enough open space to make it feel like its own little world.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “Rowan… there’s a greenhouse.”

He glances at it briefly. “That’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” I repeat, turning to look at him.

“It’s useful,” he corrects.

I shake my head, smiling.

“You’re impossible.”

“Efficient,” he says.

I go to argue, but then I scroll again.

And pause. “…Wait.”

His attention sharpens immediately. “What?”

“There’s a separate structure,” I say, zooming in. “Look.”

The image loads.

A smaller house behind the main one. Not tiny. Not insignificant. Just… separate.

Private.

“A mother-in-law suite,” I murmur.

Rowan’s posture shifts behind me. Subtle. But I feel it.

“That’s where Theo’s going,” he says immediately. “If he and Camille don’t stop arguing.”

I laugh softly. “Probably.”

But my brain is already moving.

Faster now. Putting things together.

“This is perfect,” I say without thinking.

Rowan goes quiet. I don’t notice. I keep going.

“There’s enough space for everything,” I continue, scrolling back to the layout. “The bedrooms, the land, the greenhouse… and the suite and there’s plenty of room for when we have kids.”

I freeze.

Slowly... I turn my head.

Rowan isn’t looking at the tablet anymore. He’s looking at me. Completely still.

“Say that again,” he says quietly.

My heart starts racing. But I don’t take it back.

“I want kids,” I say.

Simple. Clear. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been there.

His jaw tightens slightly. “How many?” he asks.

“At least three,” I answer before I can second guess it.

His eyes darken. Something shifts in them. Something intense.

“You’re serious,” he says.

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in my voice.

Because there isn’t any in me. Not about that. Not anymore.

“And you were just going to casually drop that in the middle of a property search?” he asks.

I let out a small breath, half nervous, half amused. “It just… came out.”

He studies me for a long second. Then glances back at the tablet.

“The suite,” he says.

I blink. “What?”

“I mentioned Theo and Camille.”

“Oh—yeah,” I say quickly. “I mean, they could stay there if they needed to. It just made sense because it’s already built—”

I stop. Because I realize something.

“That’s not what I was actually thinking,” I admit.

Rowan’s gaze snaps back to me. “What were you thinking?”

I hesitate. Then push forward anyway.

“I don’t want to send my kids to public school,” I say.

There it is. Out. Real.

“I just… don’t,” I continue. “After everything… after how things are… I don’t trust it.”

His expression doesn’t change. But he’s listening. Really listening.

“I saw the suite,” I go on, gesturing toward the screen, “and the first thing I thought was… we could turn it into a teaching space.”

He doesn’t interrupt. So I keep going.

“Like a classroom,” I say. “Private. Controlled. Safe." I shrug slightly. “It just felt right.”

Silence settles between us again.

But this time... It’s different. Not heavy. Not tense. Focused.

Rowan looks back at the house.

Then at me. Then back at the house.

“You’ve thought about this,” he says.

“Not like… planned everything,” I admit. “But yeah. I’ve thought about it.”

His hand moves, resting at my waist again. Firm. Grounding.

“And you want this,” he says.

It’s not a question.

I nod. “Yes.”

He studies me for another long second.

Then... Something in him shifts. Sharp. Decisive. Final.

Before I can react, his hands are on me, pulling me up from the couch in one smooth motion.

“Rowan—” I barely get his name out before I’m lifted, thrown over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

I gasp, grabbing onto him instinctively.

“I’m buying it,” he says.

No hesitation. No discussion.

“It’s yours.”

My heart stutters.

“Ours,” he corrects immediately.

My breath catches. He starts walking.

Fast. Straight toward the bedroom.

My stomach flips, heat rushing through me as I bounce slightly with each step.

“Rowan—” I start again, half laughing, half breathless.

“You want a house?” he mutters. “You get the house.”

My grip tightens on his shirt.

“You want kids?” he adds, his voice dropping lower. My breath catches hard. “You’ll have them.”

My heart is racing now. Completely out of control.

He reaches the bedroom door, shifting me slightly as his hand moves toward the handle—

“ROWAN!” Devin’s voice cuts through the house like a gunshot.

Everything stops.

Rowan freezes.

My breath catches.

“What?” he snaps, not even turning around.

Footsteps pound down the stairs. Fast. Urgent. Not good.

“Rowan,” Devin says again, sharper this time, stepping into view.

I feel Rowan’s body tense beneath me. “What happened?” he demands.

Devin’s expression is tight. Controlled. But there’s something under it. Somethings wrong.

“Ashcroft Industries just got hit,” he says.