Chapter 40 Surprise?
Violet
The door barely clicks shut behind us before there’s a knock.
Not a polite one.
Not aggressive either.
Just… there.
Camille freezes mid-step. I turn, heart already climbing my throat again, and she gives me a look that says please don’t let this be another thing before moving to the door.
She opens it.
There’s a man standing there.
All black. Not casual black—intentional. Coat, boots, gloves. Clean-cut. No visible emotion on his face at all. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t introduce himself. Doesn’t even look past Camille’s shoulder.
He simply holds out several bags.
Camille blinks. “Uh—”
She takes them automatically.
The man turns and walks away.
That’s it.
No words. No explanation. No receipt. Just disappearing down the hallway like he was never there at all.
The door closes slowly.
Camille stares at it for a full second, then turns to me. “What the fuck was that?”
I drop my bag on the chair. “I think that was Rowan.”
We carry everything into the kitchen and set it on the counter. There are a lot of bags. Too many for comfort. Too many for normal.
I eye them warily. “Are you ready for these surprise deliveries to become a regular thing?”
Camille sighs, already peeking into one. “I wish Theo would do shit like this. Romance and all that good stuff.”
I huff a laugh. “Trust me. Rowan is not romantic.”
She arches a brow. “You sure about that?”
“He doesn’t do romance,” I say, firmly. “He does efficiency. This benefits him. Keeping me alive, calm, functional—same reason he promoted me. Same reason he’s doing all of this.”
Camille doesn’t argue.
She just hands me a white bag.
I take one look at the logo and freeze.
Google.
Inside is a phone.
Not just a phone—a brand new one. Latest model. Pristine. Already set up. Slotted neatly into a deep red case.
I lift it carefully.
My name is engraved on the back.
Camille makes a strangled noise. “That phone alone is like… two grand.”
I stare at it, stomach tight. “And the case is custom.”
“And rushed,” she adds. “Which costs more.”
I press the power button.
It’s already on.
Already activated.
Already synced.
A soft ping makes me jump.
A message lights up the screen.
Rowan Ashcroft:
Every personal assistant needs a secure phone. This one is locked to you. No one else has access.
I read it out loud without meaning to.
Camille gives me a look. A look. “That is not a normal boss text.”
“It’s a security thing,” I mutter, even as my chest tightens. “Everything is a security thing with him.”
She hums, unconvinced.
We move on.
The next bag is food.
Real food.
Lasagna, still hot. Garlic bread wrapped in foil. A box of doughnuts dusted generously with powdered sugar.
Camille grabs the garlic bread immediately, taking an aggressive bite. “Okay, I forgive him a little.”
I smile despite myself.
The next bag is heavier.
I pull it out slowly.
A briefcase.
Real leather. Polished. Black. Expensive in a way that doesn’t scream but expects obedience. There’s a built-in lock and an envelope taped to the handle with instructions for setting the code.
My phone pings again.
Every personal assistant needs a secure case for sensitive materials. Consider this standard equipment.
I read it out loud.
Camille crosses her arms. “He’s ‘equipping’ you now?”
“It’s a work thing,” I say, even as my pulse ticks up.
She gives me a look that says she doesn’t buy it.
I reach for the last bag.
Inside is a shoebox.
I already know before I open it.
Black heels. Sleek. Polished. Buckle detail at the side. Elegant in the way that feels intentional—designed to be noticed without asking permission.
Designer.
I stare.
“How,” I whisper, “does he know my shoe size?”
Camille’s mouth opens. “Okay, now—”
My phone pings again.
Heels are for formal client-facing events. You’ll need footwear that matches your new role. They fit—if they don’t, they’ll be replaced.
I let out a slow breath.
Camille laughs softly, shaking her head. “Violet… you sure this isn’t romance?”
I snap the shoebox closed and meet her eyes. “I’m sure.”
She gestures broadly at the counter. “Because this—this smells like romance.”
“It’s not,” I say firmly. “It’s control. Strategy. Preparation.”
She studies me. “And if it was?”
I don’t hesitate.
“I’d shut it down immediately,” I say. “I’m not Avery. I won’t be that. Ever.”
Camille holds my gaze for a long moment.
Then she nods. “Okay.”
I pick up the phone again, staring at my name etched into the case.
It isn’t romance.
I know that.
But as I stand there surrounded by protection I didn’t ask for and things I didn’t know I needed, one thought refuses to leave me alone—
Rowan Ashcroft doesn’t do unnecessary.
Which means every single thing here has a purpose.
Including me.
There’s another knock.
Camille and I freeze at the same time.
She looks at me. I look at the door. My stomach tightens, every nerve lighting up like I’m bracing for impact.
Camille exhales sharply. “If this is another man in all black, I’m screaming.”
She opens the door.
It’s Theo.
He’s standing there like nothing in the world is wrong, holding a paper bag that smells unmistakably like Chinese food in one hand and—of all things—a stuffed teddy bear and a bouquet of red roses in the other.
Camille stares at him.
Then she laughs.
“Oh my God,” she says, grabbing his collar and yanking him inside.
The door slams shut behind him as she kisses him—hard, unapologetic, right in front of me.
Theo makes a surprised sound into her mouth, then chuckles and gently pulls back, cheeks flushed. “Hi. Also—hi, Violet.”
I blink. “I feel like I just walked into a rom-com.”
Camille presses her forehead to his chest for a second, smiling like she forgot the world exists. “You brought food and emotional support?”
“And carbs,” Theo says proudly, lifting the bag. “Which felt appropriate.”
I eye the teddy bear. “What’s with the bear?”
He glances down at it, suddenly sheepish. “Rowan told me to stop by and… uh. Make things feel less like a hostage situation.”
Camille snorts. “That’s the most Rowan sentence I’ve ever heard.”
Theo sets the food on the counter, then lifts the roses and bear, offering them to Camille. “For you.”
She takes them immediately. “I love you.”
He freezes for half a second.
Then smiles. “I know.”
I pretend very hard not to notice how soft that moment is.
Theo clears his throat and straightens, business mode snapping into place. “Okay. As adorable as this is—I’m actually here to show you both how to use the new security system.”