The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 171

***Violet***

“Rowan sat with me when I couldn’t stop crying.” My eyes lock back onto Marcus now. "He handled funeral expenses without telling anyone because he knew I couldn’t think straight enough to do it myself.”

Rowan goes completely still behind me.

“He checks if I’ve eaten when I get too stressed to remember.” My voice shakes harder now. “He knows how I take my coffee. He memorized my schedule before we were even together because he worried I was overworking myself.”

Marcus’s expression darkens further.

“And despite everything happening right now?” I laugh once bitterly through the tears finally falling down my face. “He still looks at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

The hallway goes dead quiet.

Even the agents aren’t moving anymore.

“You can talk badly about Rowan all you want,” I continue quietly. “But you will never convince me he’s some monster.”

I wipe angrily at my face.

“He is the sweetest and gentlest man I’ve ever known.”

That one visibly hits Rowan hard.

I see it immediately.

The tiny shift in his expression.

Like he physically wasn’t prepared to hear that out loud.

Then my anger crashes back harder.

“So are you going to do your actual fucking job,” I snap at Marcus, “or should we call FBI headquarters ourselves and explain how emotionally compromised you are?”

Marcus’s jaw tightens instantly.

I step closer now. Close enough that the agents immediately straighten behind him.

“Because based on those photos,” I say coldly, “you could be involved too for all we know.”

That lands like a grenade.

Theo mutters, “Jesus Christ.”

Even Devin winces slightly. But I’m not done.

“You slept with Avery too.” I gesture sharply toward Rowan. “You admitted your ex-wife wanted Rowan. You’re standing here emotionally spiraling in the middle of an active investigation while trying to convince me the man funding homeless housing projects is somehow secretly a criminal mastermind.”

Marcus stares at me silently. He looks stunned.

Good.

I point toward the agents behind him. “So either investigate Hargrove properly,” I say coldly, “or get the hell out of this building and send somebody capable of separating personal feelings from actual evidence.”

The silence after my outburst feels suffocating.

Nobody moves. Nobody speaks.

Marcus just stares at me like he genuinely doesn’t know who the hell I am anymore.

One of the Internal Affairs agents finally exhales slowly beside him. Tall woman. Dark hair pulled into a severe bun. Sharp eyes that haven’t stopped tracking this entire conversation.

And now?

Those eyes slowly turn toward Marcus.

“You withheld all of this from your reports?”

Marcus immediately straightens. “I didn’t withhold anything.”

“The PI?” she asks sharply. “The connection to the victim’s brother? Your prior personal relationships with two witnesses connected to this case?”

Oh.

Marcus looks furious now. “Those relationships had nothing to do with—”

“They absolutely do,” the older male agent interrupts coldly.

The hallway grows quieter with every second.

The agents exchange a long look between themselves before the woman finally speaks again.

“You’re too compromised to remain lead on this investigation.”

Marcus goes completely still. “What?”

Her expression never changes. “We’ll be contacting the FBI director directly and requesting immediate reassignment.”

Theo mutters quietly under his breath, “Holy shit.”

Marcus steps forward sharply. “This is ridiculous.”

“No,” the male agent says evenly. “What’s ridiculous is emotionally involving yourself in an active federal corruption investigation while personally attacking witnesses.”

My chest is still heaving slightly from yelling, but hearing someone finally say it out loud almost feels surreal.

Marcus looks toward me again. Angry.

“For the time being,” the female agent continues calmly, “everything involving these emails, photographs, and witness statements stays internal until we sort through what’s actually credible.”

Too late.

Camille suddenly gasps loudly from near the couch.

Every head whips toward her.

“Oh my God.” She’s staring at the television mounted against the wall near Rowan’s office entrance. She immediately lunges for the remote.

“Camille?” Theo asks cautiously.

She turns the volume up.

And suddenly Leah Frank’s voice fills the entire executive floor.

“…Councilwoman Hargrove, multiple records show the environmental housing initiative submitted by Ashcroft Industries was denied nearly eight months ago despite private funding already being secured.”

Everyone freezes.

On screen, Leah stands outside City Hall in a dark coat with rain still pouring behind her while cameras crowd around both her and Evelyn Hargrove.

And wow.

Hargrove looks stressed. Not polished political stressed either. Panicked stressed. The kind of stressed where your makeup can’t fully hide it anymore.

“That information is incorrect,” Hargrove says tightly. “No finalized permit application ever crossed my office.”

“Oh my God,” Camille whispers beside me.

Leah doesn’t even blink. “Interesting,” she says smoothly before lifting a folder slightly toward the cameras. “Because we obtained permit submission receipts from the city database this morning showing Ashcroft Industries submitted full environmental development applications last September.”

The reporters around them immediately erupt into shouting. Questions flying everywhere.

Hargrove visibly stiffens.

Leah keeps going anyway. “And according to public city council records…” She glances briefly at her notes. “The permit was formally denied three weeks later.”

Hargrove’s composure cracks slightly. “I would need to review those claims with my legal team,” she says sharply.

Leah nods slowly. “Of course.”

Oh no. That tone. That terrifyingly calm reporter tone.

Camille mutters quietly, “She’s about to kill this woman on live television.”

Leah glances directly toward the camera now.

“Councilwoman Hargrove,” she says evenly, “would you also like to comment on metadata linked to photographs allegedly commissioned through your office?”

The entire executive floor goes still. Even Marcus turns slowly toward the television.

Hargrove blinks once. “I’m sorry?”

Leah raises another folder. “This morning our publication received image metadata connected to multiple surveillance photographs tied to several city officials and Ashcroft Industries employees.”

Hargrove immediately goes pale..

“She doesn’t know what photos you’re referring to,” one of Hargrove’s assistants cuts in quickly.

Leah turns toward them calmly. “Actually, I think she does.”

Then the screen changes and bam! The photos appear behind Leah on the broadcast.

Avery with Rowan. Avery with Theo. Avery with Devin. Avery with Marcus.

The metadata underneath each image visible for only seconds, but long enough. Long enough for every person watching to understand exactly what they’re seeing.

The executive floor absolutely explodes.

Theo: “OH MY GOD.”

Camille choking on coffee.

Devin muttering, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Marcus staring at the television like his soul just left his body.

Meanwhile Hargrove looks completely blindsided.

Leah’s voice cuts cleanly through the chaos. “These photographs were allegedly commissioned and paid for through accounts connected to Councilwoman Evelyn Hargrove’s office.”

Reporters immediately surge forward.

“Councilwoman, were you blackmailing city officials?”

“Did your office conduct illegal surveillance?”

“Were these connected to the Ashcroft investigation?”

Hargrove immediately steps backward. “No more questions,” she snaps sharply. Her composure is completely gone now. “No more questions.”

Leah immediately pushes harder. “Councilwoman, were city resources used to illegally surveil Ashcroft Industries employees?”

“No comment.”

“Did you know the photographer involved was later found dead?”