The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 178

***Violet***

By the end of the day, the executive floor looked like a war zone dressed up as a corporate office.

Coffee cups everywhere.

Stacks of legal paperwork covering nearly every flat surface.

Phones still ringing every few minutes.

Employees moving around quieter now. More nervous. More careful.

Like everybody understood something massive had happened today but nobody fully knew how bad it actually was yet.

The rain outside hadn’t stopped once.

Camille sat across from me kicking off her heels underneath her desk while rubbing at her temples. Theo was leaning against the far counter arguing quietly with legal about press statements while Rowan remained locked inside the conference room with Avery and the last remaining Internal Affairs agent.

Still no new FBI lead. Which honestly felt insane considering the city was currently imploding publicly.

I was halfway through answering another email when I suddenly heard my name.

Not from somebody nearby. From the television.

“Violet Ashcroft.”

My fingers froze over the keyboard instantly.

Every head on the executive floor slowly turned toward the mounted television near the conference room.

Leah Frank.

Camille immediately stood and moved beside me while turning the volume higher.

And the second I heard Leah’s tone, I knew. She wasn’t holding back anymore.

Behind her, footage rolled across the screen.

Pictures of Hargrove. Calder. The courthouse. Ashcroft Industries. Then Drew.

My chest tightened painfully.

Leah’s voice stayed calm and terrifyingly composed. “What initially appeared to be isolated corruption allegations involving Councilwoman Evelyn Hargrove has rapidly evolved into something far more disturbing.”

More photos flashed rapidly across the screen. Email screenshots. Metadata. Permits.

“Earlier today,” Leah continued smoothly, “sources connected to this investigation confirmed ongoing communication between Councilwoman Hargrove, former Ashcroft Industries assistant Avery Quinneth, the late Detective Calder, and Judge Fredrick Mews regarding city infrastructure developments, permit denials, and private surveillance information.”

The room went dead silent. Even Theo stopped talking.

The conference room door suddenly opened behind us and Rowan stepped out first with Avery beside him.

Both of them immediately looked toward the television.

Leah continued. “But perhaps the most troubling detail involves the timeline surrounding Violet Ashcroft herself.”

Oh God.

Camille slowly reached for my hand beside the desk.

“Public records confirm that Violet Ashcroft reported her brother, Drew Pierce, missing over a month ago.”

Photos of Drew appeared on the screen again.

“Detective Calder was assigned lead investigator on the case.”

The room felt colder suddenly.

“Shortly afterward, Drew Pierce was found dead.”

Silence hit the room.

Leah’s voice lowered slightly now. “And according to documents obtained earlier today, Detective Calder later attempted to build a narrative suggesting Violet Ashcroft herself may have been involved in her brother’s death.”

Rowan’s expression darkened instantly.

“When those efforts failed and questions surrounding Detective Calder’s conduct increased…” She paused briefly. “Calder himself was later found dead. “And somehow,” Leah said calmly, “during the middle of all this chaos, Avery Quinneth, once the personal assistant to Rowan Ashcroft, quietly transitioned into working alongside Councilwoman Hargrove.”

A photo of Avery and Hargrove appeared onscreen together.

Leah tilted her head slightly toward the camera. “Funny how that works.”

Then Leah dropped the final bomb. “At this point, the question is no longer whether corruption existed inside this city.”

She looked directly into the camera. “The question is how many bodies were buried to protect it.”

The room went completely silent after that. Phones stopped mattering. Emails stopped mattering. Everything stopped mattering.

I didn’t even hear the elevator doors open at first. Not until a new voice echoed calmly across the executive floor.

“I’m looking for Avery Quinneth.”

Every head turned instantly.

A woman stepped out of the elevator holding a black federal case file against her side. Dark navy suit. Hair pulled back tightly. Calm expression. Sharp eyes.

FBI. You could feel it immediately.

The woman’s eyes moved carefully across the executive floor, taking everything in within seconds.

The phones. The legal teams. The television coverage. The exhaustion.

Then her gaze landed on Avery.

Avery visibly paled.

The woman nodded once. “Miss Quinneth.”

Then her eyes shifted again. Toward me. And something in her expression changed slightly. Not pity. Recognition.

Like she already knew exactly who I was before stepping off that elevator.

The FBI agent studied me quietly for a second too long before speaking softer this time.

“Mrs. Ashcroft.”

I swallowed hard.

She looked exhausted herself. Like she’d spent hours reading things she wished she hadn’t.

Then very gently: “I’m sorry nobody protected you sooner.”

And just like that... I almost started crying again.

Jesus Christ.

What was wrong with me today?

Camille squeezed my hand tighter beside me while the FBI agent stepped fully onto the executive floor.

Her badge clipped against her suit jacket caught the overhead lights briefly as she stopped directly in front of us.

“Special Agent Naomi Bennett,” she introduced calmly.

Camille immediately pointed toward the coffee sitting on her desk. “Before literally anything else, do you want caffeine? Because this day is trying to kill all of us.”

To my surprise, Agent Bennett’s mouth twitched slightly.

“That depends,” she replied dryly. “Is it real coffee or corporate office sludge?”

Camille looked offended instantly. “Do I look like a woman who drinks breakroom coffee?”

“Honestly?” Bennett glanced at the giant iced coffee beside her. “No.”

“Correct.”

Agent Bennett finally relaxed slightly around the edges before looking back toward me again. Not at me like an agent. Like a person.

“Are you okay?”

The question hit harder than expected. Because nobody had asked me that quietly all day. Not professionally. Not strategically.

I opened my mouth. Then immediately realized I had absolutely no idea how to answer that question anymore.

So instead I settled for, “I’ve been better.”

Her eyes shifted briefly toward Rowan standing near the conference room doors watching this entire interaction like he was trying to decide whether she was trustworthy or not.

Agent Bennett looked back toward me. “Do you feel safe here?”

The question made my stomach tighten slightly.

I glanced automatically toward Rowan.

His eyes immediately locked onto mine.

“Yes,” I admitted quietly.

“Good,” she said softly.

Then her entire demeanor shifted instantly. Not cruel. Not harsh. Just federal. Professional. Controlled.

“Mrs. Ashcroft,” she said calmly, “I need you to lock this building down immediately.”

The room quieted instantly.

Theo straightened from the far counter.

Camille lowered her coffee slowly.

Even Rowan’s expression sharpened.

Agent Bennett continued calmly.

“No one in or out without authorization.”

My brain immediately switched back into work mode automatically.

“What level of lockdown?”

“Full.”

I blinked once. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” The kindness from thirty seconds ago disappeared completely now.

Not gone. Just compartmentalized. Professional woman first. Federal agent second.

“I need every elevator secured,” she continued. “Lobby access restricted. Parking garage monitored. Security footage duplicated and preserved.” Her eyes shifted briefly toward Rowan. “Nobody leaves until I question everyone directly.”

The executive floor went dead silent again.

Theo muttered quietly, “Well that feels mildly illegal.”

“It’s federal,” Bennett replied smoothly. “So technically it’s just aggressively inconvenient.”