Game Over, Mr. CEO: Your Wife Is Done (Winter and Chris) novel Chapter 130

Ash dropped from his fingertips. The glowing red ember brushed the back of his hand before falling to the floor.

Chris turned and glanced at the rusted metal box. His dark, bottomless eyes seemed to blend into the night outside the window.

“Open it.”

Gavin set the metal box on the table. It was locked, but the keyhole was packed with dirt and rusted over, making it impossible to open normally.

He pressed one hand against the box, grabbed the lock with the other, and twisted hard with a sharp snap of his wrist. With a loud clang, the lock broke off by force.

When he opened the box, the first thing he saw was a layer of black fabric made of some unknown material, wrapped around something inside.

Gavin pulled a short knife from his side and used the tip to lift open the edge of the black cloth.

Inside was an orange, box–shaped device with black lettering printed across it. It was made of a hard, durable material.

“The black box.”

Chris’s low, tight voice came from beside him.

Gavin looked more closely at the information marked on the orange box, and his expression changed slightly.

“It’s the black box from the plane crash that killed Mr. and Mrs. Xander!”

After a plane crash, the black box is often the key to finding out what really happened. It can store flight data from the final hours before the crash, sometimes even longer.

Built to withstand extreme conditions, it can preserve that data for years, even decades.

And it had already been twenty years since Chris’s parents died.

Gavin touched the black cloth wrapped around it. As he rubbed it between his fingers, tiny silver flecks fell from the fabric, and his expression turned grave.

“It’s silver fiber. It blocks signal transmission.”

Before he started working for Chris, Gavin had been a mercenary on the border, so he knew a thing or two about materials used to block signals.

After a plane crash, a black box’s locator beacon can keep transmitting for up to thirty days, making it easier for investigators to track down.

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And this layer of silver–fiber cloth just happened to block those signals and interfere with the search. No wonder the Xander family, powerful as they were, never managed to find the black box back then.

It had been wrapped in signal–blocking fabric, sealed inside an iron box, and buried in a place no one would ever think to look.

Chris’s cold fingertips brushed the orange casing. His voice was hoarse. “Take it and have the data recovered.”

*

The first thing Winter did after waking up was call Zion over.

Seeing how calm she looked now, Zion still couldn’t forget how close she had come to breaking down at the Scott family’s old house. He frowned, his chest tightening.

“Ms. Scott, Mr. Zeller will definitely make them pay for this.”

“I called you in because I don’t want you telling William what happened tonight,” Winter said. The grief in her eyes was gone now, replaced by a clear, steady calm. “If you tell him, he’ll leave the set again, and people will start saying he’s acting like a diva.”

Zion shook his head. “You know Mr. Zeller doesn’t care about that.”

“He doesn’t, but I do.” Winter swallowed hard. “I can’t stand hearing people say a single bad thing about him.

“Besides, telling him now will only delay filming again. We already agreed he’d be back before New Year’s. If this causes more trouble, he probably won’t be able to come back for the holiday after all.”

Zion hesitated for a moment, but in the end, he agreed.

Winter only had a mild concussion and wasn’t seriously hurt, but Zac still insisted on keeping her in the hospital for one more day under observation. Mostly because he just wanted her to get proper rest where he could keep an eye on her.

On Tuesday, Zac personally drove Winter to the TV station.

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tomorrow afternoon.”

She hadn’t expected the answer to come so quickly. Winter simply nodded without much reaction.

Back at her desk, she glanced at Wendy, who was sitting a short distance away reviewing documents, and fell into thought.

Then something came to her. She got up, walked over, and draped an arm around Wendy’s shoulders.” Sweetie, do me a favor.”

The next day, Wednesday afternoon, a sweet–faced young woman in high heels walked into the lobby of Xander Corporation. Her long wavy hair was tied up in a high ponytail.

“Hi, we’re from the TV station’s news department. We have an appointment with Mr. Xander.”

“Of course. Please come with me, all three of you.”

“Thank you.”

The receptionist led them to the private executive elevator.

Upstairs, the woman’s heels clicked softly across the gleaming floor of the executive suite. When the secretary saw them, a brief look of confusion crossed her face, but she still led them into the CEO’s office.

She knocked on the half–open door.

A man’s low voice came from inside. “Come in.”

The secretary opened the door and stepped aside. “Mr. Xander, the team from the TV station is here.”

Behind the desk, Chris looked up. He was dressed in a sharply tailored charcoal suit, and behind his gold- rimmed glasses, his dark eyes gave nothing away.

But the moment he saw who had walked in, the air in the office seemed to turn colder.

“Where’s Winter?”

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