The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 193

***Rowan***

By the time everyone finally woke up again, the penthouse somehow felt completely different.

Quieter. Softer. Like the world had paused briefly to let us breathe after everything that happened.

For the first time in days, things almost felt normal.

Almost.

Honestly, the strangest part for me was the fact that I wasn’t at work right now.

I never took days off. Ever. Even when I was sick, I still worked.

Even after my father died, I worked through the funeral planning meetings while Theo practically threatened to drag me out of the office himself.

Ashcroft Industries had never stopped moving and because of that, neither had I.

Work was routine. Structure. Control.

And now suddenly I was standing barefoot in my own kitchen at ten-thirty in the morning making pancakes while my pregnant wife sat wrapped in one of my sweaters three feet away from me.

The entire situation felt surreal.

Not bad.

Just unfamiliar.

And maybe that was what unsettled me the most.

Because despite the federal investigation hanging over all our heads, despite Hargrove, despite Calder, despite the media chaos currently exploding outside these walls…

Some part of me didn’t want to be anywhere except right here. In this kitchen. With them.

That realization hit harder than expected.

I stood near the stove flipping pancakes while keeping one eye permanently locked on Violet sitting at the kitchen island.

Because apparently my brain no longer functioned correctly anymore.

Not after the pregnancy. Not after the threats. Not after waking up at six this morning in absolute panic because she shifted too far away from me in her sleep.

Violet sat curled up in one of my oversized sweaters with her dark hair still messy from sleep while slowly eating pancakes one tiny bite at a time.

Very tiny bites.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “You need more than two bites.”

“I’m trying.”

I slid a fresh glass of orange juice toward her anyway.

“Drink.”

She immediately looked offended. “Are you ordering me to consume citrus?”

“Yes.”

“You’re becoming unbearable.”

“You threw up twice.”

“And now you’re acting like I'm dying or something.”

Honestly, at least she was eating.

That was all I cared about right now.

I rested one hand lightly against the middle of her back while she slowly forced herself to eat another bite.

Still pale. Still tired. Still beautiful.

Meanwhile absolute chaos had erupted at the other side of the kitchen island.

“As absolutely adorable as Mae is,” Theo announced dramatically while holding his coffee mug like it personally offended him, “Maliki sounds like a medieval warlord.”

Camille gasped loudly from beside him. “It is cultural.”

“It sounds dangerous.”

“It sounds powerful.”

“It sounds like our future son would challenge me to combat at fourteen.”

Camille crossed her arms dramatically over her chest.

“Well if the boy name changes then the girl name changes too.”

Theo blinked slowly.

“What?”

“I want matching initials.”

Theo immediately looked horrified.

“Oh no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Camille pointed aggressively toward him with her fork.

“If it’s Adam then the girl can be Angelica.”

Theo physically recoiled.

“That sounds like a tiny Victorian ghost child.”

Camille gasped again. “And if it’s Liam,” she continued louder over him, “then maybe Leanne.”

Theo made an actual disgusted face. “No.”

“Why?”

“That sounds like somebody who aggressively sells essential oils online.”

I snorted quietly while flipping another pancake.

Beside me Violet nearly choked laughing.

Camille looked deeply betrayed. “You’re both rude.”

Theo pointed toward her immediately. “You wanted to name our son Maliki.”

“Because it sounds hot.”

“He’s a baby, Camille.”

I shook my head quietly while sliding another pancake onto Violet’s plate.

She immediately narrowed her eyes at me.

“Rowan.”

“Eat.”

“I physically cannot consume this much pancake.”

“You’re eating for two now.”

Violet looked deeply offended.

“That is scientifically inaccurate this early.”

I stared at her flatly.

“You googled pregnancy facts already?”

“Obviously.”

Theo suddenly leaned forward dramatically while pointing toward me.

“Okay but can we talk about how terrifying Rowan’s gonna be as a father?”

Camille immediately nodded.

“Oh he’s gonna be psychotic.”

“I’m not psychotic.”

“You bought three panic rooms in under two hours,” Theo reminded me.

Violet quietly sipped her orange juice beside me.

“That is a little psychotic.”

Traitors.

Every single one of them.

I was about to defend myself when suddenly something on the television mounted across the living room wall caught my attention.

Leah Frank.

Live broadcast.

My entire body immediately went still.

The volume was low initially, but something about the footage made my stomach tighten instantly.

I grabbed the remote from the counter before turning the sound up.

The entire kitchen quieted immediately afterward.

And suddenly there she was.

Evelyn Hargrove.

In handcuffs.

Jesus Christ.

Leah Frank stood outside Hargrove’s townhouse while federal SUVs lined the street behind her and reporters shouted questions over each other chaotically.

“Councilwoman Hargrove has officially been taken into federal custody this morning following an ongoing FBI investigation involving corruption allegations, obstruction of justice, and ties to multiple active homicide investigations—”

Theo slowly lowered his coffee mug.

Camille looked stunned.

Beside me, Violet went completely still.

And then my pulse spiked violently.

Because standing in the townhouse doorway behind the agents was Asher West.

That motherfucker.

The second cameras shifted toward him, Asher’s expression darkened instantly before he slammed the townhouse door shut hard enough it echoed through the live broadcast.

Silence filled the kitchen.

Heavy.

Sharp.

Violent anger rolled through me so fast it physically made my jaw tighten.

That lying bastard.

Every single permit meeting.

Every legal discussion.

Every city planning conversation.

All of it.

All of it probably went straight back to Hargrove through him.

And the worst part?

I trusted him.

Not fully.

But enough.

Enough to let him sit in meetings discussing projects meant to help people.

Enough to let him shake my hand while secretly helping destroy everything I was trying to build.

My stomach turned violently.

“Rowan…” Violet whispered softly beside me.

I barely heard her.

Because suddenly every conversation I’d ever had with Asher replayed itself in my head.

The delayed permits.

The legal pushback.

The constant unexplained complications.

He knew.

The entire fucking time.

I grabbed my phone immediately off the counter before dialing Devin without even thinking.

He answered on the second ring.

“You seeing this shit?”

His voice sounded furious already. “Every second of it.”

Good.

Because I was about one inconvenience away from personally driving downtown.

“Asher West,” Devin snarled through the phone. “That smug little political parasite—”

“He leaked everything.”

“I know.”

Theo stood slowly from the kitchen island now while Camille muted the television slightly but kept staring at the screen in disbelief.

Leah Frank was still talking rapidly while footage replayed again of Bennett escorting Hargrove toward the SUV. Calm. Controlled. Like she finally had the monster cornered.

Devin kept talking through the phone now, pacing hard enough I could hear movement on his end. “I’m already pulling every legal filing West touched involving Ashcroft Industries.”