Page 10 of Player CEO (Billionaire Secrets #4)

Theo

Through the glass of the conference room, I see Mackenzie sink into the big leather chair behind Rhys’s desk. The police are still talking, but I don’t hear them. Her shoulders shake as she cries, holding a bunch of tissues to her face. I swallow hard, my own eyes starting to sting. Justin…he was the spark, the energy that got everything started. His big ideas and the way he believed in us—that’s why we’re here, working at EnergiFusion under the SHN banner.

I rub my hand over my face, feeling the weight of what I have to do next. I’m the one who needs to fly to Denver to stand in front of Gina, Justin’s mom, and tell her the news that will break her heart. How do you even begin a conversation like that? Saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t feel like enough, not when everything is broken.

And Crystal’s laugh used to fill these halls, but nothing will be the same now. This will bring her back, out of hiding, only in the worst way. She needs to hear the truth from one of us, not from the news or a stranger on the phone.

And then there’s my mom. She was always worried. Now, I have to tell her she was right to be scared.

After a little while, Mackenzie returns to the conference room, and I pull out the chair next to me for her to sit down. I take a deep breath, trying to push my sadness to the back of my mind so I can keep going. There’s too much to do, still so many questions, and I can’t fall apart—not yet.

How can any of this be real?

Jim and Mason arrive and sit down. I don’t even listen while the detective brings them up to speed.

“What is your relationship with Justin Capriotti?” one of the officers asks Mason, bringing me out of my thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mackenzie flinch.

“Do you have any leads in your investigation?” Jim asks.

Inspector Harris’s expression doesn’t change. “Nothing we’re ready to share at this time.”

Jim tries again. “Can you at least tell how long Justin has been in the storage unit?”

The inspector hesitates. His jaw tightens, and for a second, I wonder what he’s holding back. Then he speaks, carefully. “The autopsy will give us a more specific time period. But safe to say, it’s been a while.”

My heart cracks wide open. The words hit like a punch, and I can’t stop the tears. They fall before I even realize I’m crying.

“His body was discovered in a storage space over in the Bayview neighborhood,” the inspector continues. “We think he’s been there since he disappeared, but as I said, the autopsy will clarify that.”

All the air in my lungs evaporates.

“Who rented the unit?” Jim presses.

“Justin rented it himself,” the detective reveals.

A chill runs down my spine. Why would Justin have a storage unit? I glance around at the familiar faces, each marked by grief and confusion, and find my voice. “But why?” I ask. “We all have space here, in the basement of this office building.” The words tumble out, underscored by a sense of betrayal. Justin was the one who brought us together, who seemed to share everything with us. What secrets did he keep locked away in a rented box?

The inspector shifts and shakes his head, amplifying the unanswered questions hanging in the air.

“How did you find it?” Jim asks. “Did you get a tip? Did he get behind on the payments for the unit?” He doesn’t miss a beat, and neither do the officers.

“Actually,” one officer begins, “there was an electrical fire in another part of the building. They were worried about flooding and needed access to the unit. They tried to reach Justin, but the contact number the storage facility had wasn’t working. The fire inspector needed access, so they cut the lock. And inside, they found the freezer.” He pauses. “They called us, and we opened the freezer under a court order.”

“Why did you get a court order?” I ask.

“Just wanted to cover our bases. We were concerned after not being able to reach the owner, and a freezer was not authorized in that type of storage unit. Turns out, it’s a good thing we did.”

Jim nods, but before he can add anything further, Grantham cuts in.

“We’d like a private autopsy,” he says.

“You’ll have to take that up with the medical examiner,” Inspector Harris says as the officers exchange a look. “The City’s process is already underway.”

“What’s the timeline for making this information public?” Jim asks. “EnergiFusion would like some time to prepare a statement.”

“We have no plans to announce the discovery,” he says. “However, these things can sometimes leak to the media.”

Leak . The word feels wrong and unfair. Justin was our friend, our partner, and now, he’s just a news story waiting to explode, with no warning and no respect.

“Understood,” Jim replies. “Thank you for letting us know.”

“We appreciate what you need to do, but this sad news will be a terrible blow to EnergiFusion employees, and for their customers as well,” Grantham says. “This is a family here, and they’ve just learned their leader is dead. They need time to process.” He locks eyes with the detective, as if willing him to understand.

There’s a moment of silence, a brief standoff, and I wonder if they’ll push back, insist on answers now. But then the inspector nods, jotting something in his notebook. “Fair enough,” he says. “We’ll be in touch to arrange a meeting.”

I let out a breath as the police gather their things to go, the tight feeling in my shoulders easing just a touch.

We all stand.

Grantham steps forward. “What about notifying Justin’s wife and family?”

“If you tell us where Crystal Capriotti is located, we’ll send an officer to inform her,” Inspector Harris says. “Same for the parents.”

Austin clears his throat. “We don’t know where Crystal is. She went into hiding after someone broke into her home last June. Inspector Harris, you were part of that investigation, weren’t you?”

Inspector Harris nods and looks at Jim. “You don’t know where she is?”

Jim looks away. “I have some sense of where she is. I have a man with her, but I think the team would like to tell her rather than having a stranger show up at her door. The only way I’ve been able to keep tabs on her is through our man, and I don’t want to divulge that information if I don’t have to.”

Inspector Harris scrutinizes Jim for a moment. “That’s fine. You can tell her yourself. And let her know we’d like to speak with her.”

I stare at the floor, trying to deal with the fact that everything in our world is about to change—already has changed—whether we’re ready or not.

When the police are ready to go, Mackenzie walks them to the elevator and then returns to the room. Her eyes are red, and she looks heartbroken, like she’s lost in a storm of sadness. My chest tightens and without thinking, I take her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

“We stick together,” I murmur, holding her gaze. That’s how we started this journey, and that’s how we’ll get through this—united.

“Just like we were afraid of,” Jim says quietly, mostly to the glass as he looks out the window at the City far below. “Not a single sign of him until now.”

Mason leans against the wall with his arms crossed. No one seems sure what to do.

Grantham picks up his bag. “If you can get a hold of Crystal, let her know I’ll be calling.” He walks toward the door. “I’ll have my office call you and set up time to go over our statements. I want it to be on point. This has just moved from a missing person case to a capital crime.”

Grantham heads to the elevators, leaving us with Jim and Mason.

“Jim,” I say, “we need to reach out to Gina, Crystal, and Rhys before this is leaked to them.”

Jim nods, turning from the window. “Yes, let’s call Rhys together.” He brushes a hand through his hair, a rare break in his control.

Jim, Mason, Austin, Mackenzie, and I surround the conference room speaker, and I ask it to call Rhys’s cell phone.

The ringing is a countdown to another heartbreak, another life about to be shattered by the cruel news that’s splintering ours. When Rhys answers, his voice is groggy with sleep, a reminder of the time zones dividing us.

“Rhys,” I say, my throat tight. “It’s Theo. I’m with Austin and Mackenzie, and we have Jim and Mason here. We have some important news about Justin.”

There’s a pause, just a little too long. “Rhys?” I ask. “It’s the middle of the night there, isn’t it?”

“God, yes.” His voice is thick with sleep and confusion. “What’s going on?”

Austin catches my eye, a silent nod passing between us.

“Justin…he’s gone,” I say, and the line crackles with the weight of sudden grief. With a deep breath, I condense the morning’s grim discovery into a few short sentences.

“Jesus,” Rhys exhales, his voice cracking. “I—Jade and I will book the next flight out. Please, don’t let Crystal have the funeral without us. We’ll get there as fast as we can.”

“It won’t be right away,” Austin assures him. “They’re doing an autopsy.”

“Okay, Jade is on the phone. We’ve got a jet available to us, and we’ll be on it this morning.”

“Thanks, Rhys.”

As we end the call, the room is heavy with sorrow, fears swirling around us like ghosts. We turn to our next task, one I’ve been dreading since the moment I learned of Justin’s fate. Crystal .

“Let’s try her now too,” Jim urges.

I dial her number, each ring an echo in the silence. Then the voicemail greeting cuts through, the electronic chirp mocking our desperation.

“Crystal, it’s Theo. Please, when you get this, call back.” My voice breaks, betraying the turmoil within. “It’s about Justin. We found him.”

I hang up, a bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Crystal deserves better. Justin did too. “Dammit,” I mutter, rubbing at the ache in my brow. “She should have heard it from us, not some blinking light on her phone.”

Jim places a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “You did what you could.”

Mason nods. “We’ll keep trying. She needs to know.”

Because time is of the essence, there’s no time for a trip, so our next call is to Gina, Justin’s mother. I’m prepared for anger, screaming, but she just cries and keeps repeating, “I knew it.”

When we’ve finished, I lean back against the cool leather of my chair in the conference room, looking at the faces around me—Mackenzie’s eyes are red from crying, Mason’s forehead is tight with worry, and Austin looks just as shocked as I feel. Only Jim maintains a veneer of calm.

“Okay,” Mason says after a moment. “Next thing. We need a plan for how we announce this. It can’t be a free-for-all.”

“Agreed,” I say. “We should get one of those crisis PR firms to handle the communications, draft the emails and announcements.”

Jim nods. “No comments from any of us until we’ve got everything vetted through them. This is sensitive, and it’s going to hit everyone hard.”

“Right,” Mason acknowledges. “The last thing we want is misinformation spreading.”

“Can they craft the message to the staff?” Mackenzie asks.

Mason is already on the phone with someone. He mentions that and then nods.

“Also,” Jim interjects, “I think we should double up your protection, at least for the short term. Whoever did this to Justin…”

“We need to include Mackenzie,” I tell him.

“That doesn’t seem necessary,” Mackenzie protests. “I’m a no one here.”

“Better safe than sorry,” I murmur, meeting her eyes. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“I agree,” Jim says. “Do you have a guest room so someone can stay with you?”

“Not anymore. My half-brother just moved in.” She takes a deep breath. “We’ll figure something out.”

Jim nods. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Mackenzie, once the notification comes out, can you please delay the board meeting?” I ask.

She nods. “Of course.”

“Tonight,” Mason announces, standing up, “let’s get together at my place. Dinner, drinks—whatever. We need to celebrate Justin.”

Mackenzie hesitates, her hands twisting in her lap. “Thank you for the invite, but I don’t know if I can. Like I said, I’m in charge of my half-brother right now, and—”

“Bring him along,” Jim says. “He’s part of your life, so he’s part of this now too. We stick together, no matter what.”

“Okay… Thanks,” she whispers, gratitude in her worn-out eyes.

“Okay, then.” I push myself up, feeling every muscle protest the movement. “Let’s do this right—for Justin.” I take a shaky breath and try to get ready for what’s ahead.

I stand by the window with my hands in my pockets, watching as Mason reviews the email the crisis PR company wrote to send to EnergiFusion’s employees. It’s more than just words. It’s like a grenade, ready to explode and change everything.

“All right,” Mason breaks the silence. “The emails are good to go. We send to the employees first, and the PR team will push it out to the media right after.”

I look away from the laptop and at the faces around me. “Wait,” I say, and Mason’s hand pauses mid-air. “Let’s hold off for an hour before sending anything out. This… It’s going to change everything for us.”

Mason nods. He gets it without me having to say more. Once the news is out, nothing will be the same. Our grief will be public, and a business consideration. This is the quiet before the storm.