Mobbed by Him (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

Mobbed
By Him

BOOK
1

By
Alycia Taylor

Copyright
2015. All rights reserved.

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Chapter
One

Six
Months Ago...

Cadence

Looking around the room I barely heard a thing. It was
as if I was stuck in a fog; all my senses were dimmed. I felt numb. I knew that
I should feel something but I just didn't. People were around me, touching me,
trying to hug me, when all I wanted to do was claw them away from me. I didn't
want to be touched, I didn't want to be near them. I had heard the words 'I'm
sorry' about a million times and it had started to fall flat about three days
ago. Why did people feel the need to say sorry? What did it even mean anyways?
It was just something to say when you had no idea what to say. It was actually
a stupid thing for people to say and every time I heard it I wanted to scream.
They had no idea how I felt, and by saying sorry it felt more like a slap in
the face. Everyone that loved me and my parents were there and yet I wanted
them all to leave as soon as possible. I wanted to be left alone. No more hugs,
no more apologies. I just wanted it all to end.

My parents were dead. Not just dead, they were
murdered. Sometimes I think learning of someone's death would be easier to deal
with if it were an accident. Like a car wreck or something. Accidents happened.
But my parents were murdered; they weren't supposed to die. It wasn't their
time to go, they had just been stolen from me. People said sorry as if it would
somehow take all the pain away, make me less sad, but it just made things
worse. Nothing could take the pain away, nothing ever would. Having people
around me at that moment made me increasingly uncomfortable. I hadn't eaten in
days and every time I tried to, it felt like I would vomit it all up. I had
been prescribed Valium but I had yet to take any. There was still so much to
deal with, maybe I would take the opportunity to numb out later.

Standing there at the funeral amongst so many people,
it was obvious that my parents were loved a great deal. They had many friends
and family that were just as devastated by their death as I was. I wished that
I could feel something, anything, but I was completely numb. All I could think
about was the fear my mother must have felt. Both of them actually, but I
always saw my father as a strong man and he would have fought hard to save my
mother no matter what it took. But she would have felt real fear, not just for
herself, but for my father and the daughter she was leaving behind. Why did
they have to die? What had they done so wrong that would cause someone to come
after them? My parents were good, honest people. It was unfathomable that this
could have happened to such good people. Every time that I tried to wrap my
head around it I just couldn't. It was impossible that they were gone, even
more impossible that someone could knowingly and willing hurt them. I couldn't
bear the thought of it; it was just too much.

But someone hadn't cared about the kind of people they
were, it hadn't mattered at all. They were not just murdered, they were
brutally murdered. Their blood had been all over the room they were killed in.
It had been like watching a horror movie. I couldn't even imagine the kind of
people that were capable of such a thing. It was something you thought only
happened in the movies. Real people didn't do things like that. Thankfully I
had not seen it firsthand or else I may have been admitted to a mental hospital
by now. The police, however, had shown me pictures after I demanded to know
what happened to my parents. The pictures alone were enough to give me
nightmares; I didn't know how the police had managed to walk through that crime
scene without losing it. I would never be able to get those images out of my
head; they would haunt me forever. My poor parents. Had they known it was
coming? Or had they been taken completely by surprise?

The police believed they were murdered by a MOB
organization that went by the name of Snakes. No one really knew who the head
of the organization was, although there was speculation. I couldn't even fathom
what they had been talking about. I thought they were joking when they told me.
They had to be. My parents got caught up in the MOB — no it just wasn't
possible. My parents were normal people, they had never been in trouble ever.
My father used to lecture me about the speeding tickets that I got; how on
earth had he managed to get involved with the MOB? No, it was some kind of a
sick joke, it just had to be. My father would never do something so illegal and
dangerous. He loved my mother too much to risk her life.

When I had met with the police they had told me that
the MOB organization was based in LA. They believed they were the cause of it
due to a letter that had been left behind at the murder scene. The letter had
been short and sweet, “If you don't pay, then you pay the price.” It had been
signed with an insignia that only that MOB used apparently. The police told me
that it was just something they did after a kill, leave random short phrases
behind with their victims. It sickened me that my parents had been a lesson to
others. Leaving a note on a kill site seemed just too cold and callused. Who
were these people? Monsters. Every one of them.

It was discovered that my father had owed a lot of
money. He had taken out a second mortgage on the house and just got in over his
head. I had no idea that they had trouble with money to begin with. They had
never spoken about their finances with me; really it was none of my business.
My mother hadn't been aware that my father had gone to the MOB for a loan. The
problem with borrowing from sharks was that there was always a steep deadline,
and if it wasn't paid you would pay with your life. How had my father gotten
messed up in all that? What was he thinking going to the MOB for money? He had
risked my mother’s life trying to get out of financial trouble. It just wasn't
worth it. He should have lost the house, the cars, everything before he risked
my mother’s life.
 
Tears welled up inside
my eyes once again as I thought about my parents. I had loved them so dearly
and they had been ripped out of my life senselessly. Why? None of it made sense,
and the more I thought about it, the crazier I felt.

No arrests had been made however; the MOB knew what
they were doing. They couldn't arrest anyone because there was no solid
evidence to do so. They knew it was the MOB but they had to prove it. Without
fingerprints or some other solid evidence it was all useless. My parents’ death
was useless and no one would end up paying the price for taking their lives. It
didn't make sense. Someone needed to pay for taking away my life. My parents
were human beings and they didn't deserve to die over something as stupid as
money. I felt bile rise up in my throat as I thought about my mother helpless
and afraid, being butchered by some monster trying to settle a score. I looked
around the room and made a beeline for the bathroom. Once inside I locked the
door and headed for the toilet. I retched up what little food I had in my
stomach. As I stared into the toilet bowl, tears sprang up into my eyes once
again.
Fuck!
Why did this have to happen to my parents! They were good
people who didn't deserve to be slaughtered. God, to think of what they must
have gone through, I couldn't bear it. I wanted to pound those thoughts out of
my head, but no matter what I did those thoughts always returned.

I knew something had to be done. I needed to know who
was responsible for their death and make them pay for taking my parents away
from me. The cops had given up all hope of bringing anyone to justice because
they just couldn't find the proof to bring anyone down. That was the shitty
part about the law, they could only do so much. If they didn't have the proof
they needed then the murderer walked. How was that possible? The legal system
just didn't make sense at times. It was meant to protect you and yet people died
every day and killers walked free.

Staring into that bowl I knew that it was up to me. I
had to find out what happened to my parents and who was responsible for their
horrible death. I made a rash decision to move to California as soon as
possible. I would leave Illinois behind and see if I could figure out who
killed my parents. I knew deep down that it was a terrible idea but I had to do
it anyways. I knew I would never be able to live without knowing what happened
to them. It would be easy to find another accounting job in California. I could
start over there. I would not tell anyone why I was going. It was up to me to
figure things out. I would start a new life in California and part of that life
would be to bring the murderer to justice. That monster would not get away with
taking my parents from me.

I just hoped that it wouldn't cost me my life to do
so.

Chapter
Two

Present
Day

Damon

Funerals made me crazy. It was crazy to think that you
had to dress up a corpse and say your goodbyes. Where had this tradition even
come from? It made not a lick of sense to me. Why dress up a body and put it out
for show? It was all a little creepy if you asked me. I had been to quite a few
funerals in my day and they were all the same. A dead body, people standing
around crying or just looking uncomfortable. I hated being in a room full of
mourners. Being the son of a MOB boss put you in a position where death was
just a way of life. It was something you got used to whether you wanted to or
not. But if I never had to go to another funeral in my life I would be a very
happy man. I glanced over at the coffin and sighed deeply as I saw the man
inside. He would be outraged to know he looked terrible lying there. He no
longer looked strong and powerful. He looked mortal and weak, which was the
last thing he would ever want.

My father was 63 years old when he died of a heart
attack. He led a very stressful life so it wasn't really surprising when he
dropped dead. He was too young to go but the life he led was not a normal one.
It was my father that was the guest of honor at this funeral. We had never been
really close. I think it's hard to be when your father is a powerful man and I
longed to be the same. We never talked much these days because my dad had made
me take control of the MOB’s money. Exciting wasn't it? Hardly. I was
interested in a little more power; I was no one’s damn accountant. I didn't
want to be in charge of money. It was a nothing position. But my dad always
believed that I wasn't capable of getting my hands dirty. He didn't trust me
with any of the important jobs; I was just the money man and it pissed me off.
Now he was dead.

I looked down at my mother who was currently crying on
my shoulder. Despite the kind of man he was, my mother had adored my father.
She had loved him from the moment they met and she had been destroyed by his
death. I, however, couldn't shed a tear. Mainly because I just didn't give a
fuck. My father had not been a good man, not even a decent one, and he never
believed in me, not for a moment. His death would not be mourned by me.

I just wanted to have the day over so that I could get
on with my life. I wasn't sure who was to run the family business now but I was
not planning on taking any orders.

My dad’s right hand man,
Gord
,
approached my mother and I slowly.

“I want to just tell you, Mrs. Alexander, how sorry I
am for your loss. Your husband meant a great deal to me.”

I almost rolled my eyes.

“Thank you,
Gord
, you two
were always so close,” she whispered.

Gord
looked
at me and I nodded at him. “Damon, I will need to see you at the meeting
tonight. We have much to discuss.”

I just nodded at him again and watched him walk away.
Every week the top members of the organization came together for a meeting. My
father used to run them, and I was invited to one before. My father always
thought it was unnecessary for me to be there. It used to piss me off; I was
still in the family business and I wanted to be a part of things but my father
would never allow me. I wasn't allowed at the meetings, he would just come to
me whenever he needed to talk money. So why would I now be invited to the
meetings? What did the other members want from me? They knew how my father had
felt about my involvement so why now?