Mobbed By Him #2
BOOK 2
By Alycia Taylor
Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.
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Chapter One
Two Weeks Later
Cadence
It had been a really long day and I was starting to feel tired; it had been a hell of a few weeks. My job search had still come up with nothing and I was starting to wonder if coming to California was really the best thing for me. How was I going to pay my bills if I couldn't find a job? I didn't realize just how hard it was going to be. I was burning through my savings like crazy and it was really starting to scare me. What would happen if I didn't find a job soon? God, I didn't even want to think about returning to Illinois with my tail between my legs. This was supposed to be a fresh start for me. Yes, I was there to avenge my parents’ death but I was also there to make something of myself. I couldn't be back in Illinois without my parents. There were just too many memories waiting back there for me and it was all a little too much for me to take. No, I was determined to make this fresh start work. All I needed was to find a job before I was officially broke. If something didn't happen soon I would have to resort to praying.
I finished washing the dishes and decided to open a bottle of wine and relax. There was nothing that made me feel better than curling up with a glass of wine and reading a good book. I hadn't had the opportunity yet to do any reading because my mourning had consumed me for so many months and then there was the job search. I was debating about seeing a movie but I was so tired that I wasn't sure if I would just fall asleep. A book was always better anyways. I popped the cork, poured the wine into a glass and took a slow sip of the delicious wine. Maybe I should just drink the whole thing and get hammered. I had nowhere to go in the morning anyway.
I leaned my head back on my couch and once again considered putting on a movie. I turned the book over, however, and read the back cover to see what I was getting myself into. It sounded like a scintillating mystery with a little dirty action to it. Perfect, sounded just like my kind of book. My phone rang and when I looked over I didn't recognize the number. I picked it up and stared at it, wondering if I should answer. It could be a job, you fool! Of course you're going to answer it. I clicked on the answer button.
“Hello?”
“Cadence, it's Damon here.”
My breath caught and I almost didn't respond. “Oh Damon. Hi, what's up?” What's up?! What is wrong with you? Why couldn't I sound elegant for one minute? Or at the very least professional.
“I'm just calling to let you know that your credentials checked out. Which means that the job is all yours. Congratulations, that is if you still want it.”
“That's amazing, wow! Thank you so much, Damon. I absolutely accept your offer.”
“Great, I'm so glad. Can you start tomorrow? That would be most beneficial to me.”
“Absolutely.” I was as giddy as a school girl.
“Okay, I will see you in the morning. I’ll text the address.”
“Thank you again, Damon.”
“No problem, Cadence. Have a good night.”
I clicked off the phone and laid my head back against the pillow once again. Well shit. I finally had a job which caused an enormous amount of relief considering I would now have money to pay my bills. Thank you God, if you were listening. The job paid really well so the financial stress would be off my chest. There was just one problem, however, and that was the worry that I could possibly be working for the MOB, if it was true that Damon's family ran it. I was sure they did, and would need to find out for sure, but there was a good chance that I could get into some trouble by working for them. I would just need to lay low. It was no big deal right? It wasn't as if anyone actually knew who I was so I could just stay below the radar and get the information I needed.
I was almost positive that the company I was now working for was somehow hiding the MOB in the background; the company itself was just a front. They hid it well so that no one would think anything of it. They had been doing it for so many years that I wondered if they would ever be found out. Probably not. People in the MOB were usually really good at hiding things. That's what made them so terrifying. They could hide just about anything, even bodies. That was why my parents’ deaths were still unsolved cases because whoever did them in did a really good job of hiding the evidence. So what made me think that I could do better than the FBI? Well at least I was on the inside now; that was better than nothing and who knew what I could stumble upon.
I wondered how much involvement there was with the FBI. Were they watching Damon and the MOB in general? I figured they must know at least something about Damon. Most of the articles I read on the internet implied that Damon's father was the head of the MOB in the L.A. area as well as the surrounding cities. That information must have come from the FBI. If they were involved with trying to bring down the MOB it didn't really seem like they were doing much about it. That made me sad as I could really use all the help that I could get. Working for the MOB now was a little overwhelming but I knew that it would all be worth it in the end.
I finished drinking my glass of wine and went to my bedroom to decide what I would wear for my first day working for the MOB.
Chapter Two
Damon
The morning had started out great; so far everything was going to plan. I knew that Cadence was in the building starting her first day and that alone put a smile on my face. I knew she was a good choice for the position and it was one less headache that I had to worry about. The best part was that I finally had my mother off my back about filling the position. I knew I had nothing to worry about with Cadence, especially since her credentials went through. That had been my biggest worry and now that she was working for me, I didn't have to worry about handling the money anymore. I was grateful to be done with that part of the job. I hated that no-nothing job. It was meant for an accountant after all and that wasn't me. I was a leader, and owner, the boss. That was the only job that I wanted and my father had kept me under his thumb for far too long. It was all finally mine and nothing was going to get in my way now.
I looked up as Gord entered my office. He didn't look happy and I hoped that he wasn't about to ruin my good mood. He had been my father’s right-hand man for many years and I wondered how he really felt now that I was in his chair. Should I have someone that was naturally loyal to me and not just loyal because he had to be? That was something I would have to ponder later on. Now it was time for business. Gord oftentimes handled the nitty gritty of the business and if he wasn't happy then I probably wasn't going to be either. I wanted to get this over with quickly so I could get back to enjoying my day. I leaned back in my chair and said, “Gord, what's up? Fill me in on the details.”
Gord sat down across from me and said, “Well we have some problems that need your attention immediately.” He didn't smile once.
“I knew you were about to ruin my good mood.” I sighed.
Gord smirked. “Sorry boss, not my intention, but here you go.”
Boss. I had to admit that it held a certain appeal to me when people called me boss. Call me crazy, but I kind of thought that's the way it should always have been. There
was so much importance that came with a title like that. Gord handed me a piece of paper and when I looked down it appeared to be a list. There were three names on the list, names I didn't recognize.
“What is this?” I set the paper on my desk and looked up at him.
“Right, you probably aren't used to seeing these. You will be seeing a lot of them throughout your career as the leader I am sure. It's a list of people who have three strikes.”
I groaned and started rubbing my forehead with my hand. Nope, I definitely wasn't in the mood for this shit. The list was the last thing I wanted to deal with, and to be honest, I wasn't sure why I had to deal with it at all. Seeing those names on the list sent chills up my spine. Being on that list was never good for anyone; in fact it was the last place you wanted to be. For the people who were on the list, it meant you had done three things to piss the MOB off and now we were coming for payback. People were so stupid that it often surprised and saddened me. Anyone that had three strikes usually meant that the MOB was going to kill them off. You know...three strikes and you're out. Well it worked the same for the MOB. It always amazed me how people actually managed to screw up not once or twice but three times, as if they thought the MOB wasn't notorious for killing people off. It was all we did sometimes. If we didn't get our way then we killed people. But yet there were still people out there that thought they could get away with skimming from the top.
I always hated stuff like that. It usually was the lowliest people that did the screwing over too; you would think it wouldn't be. But maybe it was all the drugs they took that gave them courage. The people that feared the MOB the most would usually be the ones to screw them over. We did, after all, give them three strikes. Why did they always have to go for three? Sometimes it was a drug dealer that screwed up by using the drugs for himself or his friends and not paying for them. Or a prostitute that didn't give her pimp all the money and kept more of it for herself. I couldn't count how many times it had happened over the years. I also couldn't imagine why they took the risk, but there were three on the list that had done just that. And now Gord wanted me to deal with them.
“I really hate this shit. Thanks for shitting on my day, Gord.”
Gord was still smirking and I hoped he wasn't just testing me. I wasn't in the mood for any type of amateur shit today.
“Well, you're up, Damon.”
“What does that mean?” I looked at him confused.
“You are the boss after all. There are three people on that list with three strikes on them. It is up to you to decide how we are going to go about getting rid of them.”
“Are you kidding me? Why me? You're telling me my father handled shit like this?”
“Your father insisted on it. He hated people that weren't grateful for the help that the MOB gave them. He wanted to be the one to decide how the axe would be dropped, so to speak. It is your job now to do the same.”
“I would rather you do it, or give the job to the guy that is out punching these tickets. I'm not interested. I have enough shit to deal with, I don't need to decide how someone dies too.”
“Do you feel sorry for them, is that it?”
“Are you shitting me? I don't feel a damn thing for them.”
“Then do your job, the same job that your father did.”
My stomach turned at the thought. I had no idea that my father had handled the killings himself. It made me start to wonder what had been really wrong with him. I had obviously never been in this position before since my father was the head of the company before he died and he certainly never mentioned any of this to me. I wondered if my mother knew about the strike list and my father’s involvement in it. If she did, was she okay with it? Did she ever weep over the many lives that were lost or did she barely think of them at all? How would she feel knowing that I was deciding the fate of others? I knew that I didn't like the idea, that was for sure.
I had always just run the money; I had never killed anyone before in my life. It was ridiculous that they would want me to handle this stuff. We had hired killers on staff, literally on the payroll, so why was I dealing with this? Even ordering a kill seemed like too much blood on my hands. I didn't like that idea at all. This was the part of my job I didn't care for; in fact, it made me physically ill. Was that bad for a MOB boss? I just assumed my father left all the dirty work to his lackeys and kept out of it. I didn't want any part in deciding how someone should die. Gord should be doing it since he didn't seem to give a shit about anything.
“So what do you think, Damon?”
I realized then that I had been lost in my own thoughts. Had I just been staring at him in a daze? It was hard to say. I had no idea what to do and that much was the truth. How did most people die? With a bullet to the head, that seemed quick and painless. Oh hell...
I sighed. “I think I'm going to have to think about this one for a while. Just leave it with me for now.” Like I really wanted to think of it later, that was the last thing I ever wanted to think about again. But it had to be done. Maybe I would go talk to my mother about this. There was a chance she would be appalled and then I could enforce traditions to be changed. My mother had that kind of power in the organization,
Gord nodded. “Will do.”
“Anything else?” I looked back down at the list.
“Nope, I think that's enough for you to handle for now.”
“Yeah, no shit. Oh by the way, the new head accountant just started today. Her name is Cadence.”
“Great. Glad that's handled. I'll check in with you later, boss.”
I nodded. I put my fingers in a steeple position and rested my head on them. Well my day had just gone to the shitter pretty quickly. I had suddenly got quite a bit on my hands and I really wanted no part of it. No wonder my father had experienced a heart attack. Maybe if he wasn't out planning murders he would have lived longer. I was learning rather quickly how stressful it was running the MOB. There was just so much that went into it. I needed to make some changes and part of those changes needed to ensure that my hands were never stained red with someone's blood on them. That shit should be left to the lackeys; that was what they got paid for.
The most important part about running that organization was to keep it hidden, to not let anyone know what was going on. That was the easy part. We had been doing that part for many many years now. But now I had to decide on people's lives and whether they deserved to die. That part I believed was out of my hands; it appeared that they had to die no matter what. So how was I going to have them killed? Why couldn't they have been model employees and made my life easier? I can guarantee that McDonald's never had to deal with this kind of shit.
Not only that but I needed to ensure that Cadence didn't find out that the company was more than just what it appeared to be. She needed to be kept in the dark about where a lot of the money that the company was making was coming from. I didn’t want any unnecessary questions coming from her. She needed to be a model employee as well, because I certainly didn't need any further stress in my life. Though to be honest, I really didn't think I would have anything to worry about when it came to Cadence. She was not only a hot little piece but she was incredibly bright. She wasn't one to start making waves when she had a good thing going.
I went over to the brandy canter and poured myself a stiff one. So much for my great day...
Chapter Three
Cadence
When I showed up to work that day it was a rainy morning, which put me in a somber mood. I was quite possibly walking into the lion’s den and I wasn't really sure what to expect from my first day on the job. When I walked into the building I was met with a woman that had a wide grin. That grin rarely left her face when she spoke with me and it made me feel better about coming to work. Maybe not everyone there were monsters. Wouldn't that be something? There was a chance that most of the employees really had no idea that they were working for the MOB. I wasn't supposed to know after all. So maybe she was a good person. I should really gi
ve people the benefit of the doubt until I knew for sure.
Her name was Chantelle and she made me feel completely at home at the company. I didn't expect to feel like that at all so I was grateful for her kindness toward me.
“Let me show you around and then I will show you where your office will be.”
“Sounds great, thank you.”
She showed me where everyone had lunch in the break room, and where I could get some coffee. The staff was treated very well and there was always pastries and stuff to eat in there. She brought me around to introduce me to the other accountants that worked there, the ones that would be working under me. They all seemed friendly enough but they eyed me with what seemed to be irritability. I was surprised to see that they were much older than me, which would imply that they had far greater experience than I did. Why would they not promote one of these women instead of hiring me? That would’ve made the most sense. Why not just give me a regular accounting position? I found the whole situation puzzling to say the least. I didn't have a lot of experience, nowhere near what the others had, so why the hell would they want me to be the head of a department that dealt with all the money? Sounded fishy to me. I had no clue why Damon had made such a decision. Maybe I would be able to dig up some information about what really went on in the company. I wondered if the Golden Girls in there knew anything useful. Would it be dangerous to talk to them about it? They could be part of things, and may not appreciate me going around and asking questions.
Chantelle brought me to my office that was bigger than what I expected. I guess it seemed appropriate for the head accountant. It was decorated nicely in shades of purple and actually made me feel right at home. There was what appeared to be a fruit basket awaiting me on my desk and it would have made me smile if I didn't know that I was probably working for the MOB. I went up to the basket and glanced inside. There was a small bottle of bubbly along with various fruits and cheeses. It was actually kind of nice.
Mobbed By Him #2 (Mobbed By Him Romance Series - Book #2) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Page 1