Falling For The Mob

01 Tight skirt

Sam

"It is foolish of you to speak in such a disrespectful manner, Mr. Drake." He grins, displaying his smoke-stained teeth, clearly unaware of the severity of his situation. It is such a shame when someone throws their life away on such a filthy habit. Looking at him, he seems no older than thirty-five. It is also a shame he is throwing his life away by not taking this conversation seriously.

"Look, darling, I'm here to talk to Sam Claymore, not some glorified secretary in a tight skirt. It's not that I don't find you entertaining to look at, but I'm here to close a few important deals and plan on only speaking to the head of the Claymore family."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the smug manner in which he presents himself. "You clearly don't know who I am. If you did, you would have run along and gotten him for me already, so let me enlighten you. My name is Edison Drake, and that should say enough. My brothers and I own one of the largest transport companies in the state."

His eyes glimmer as if expecting a reaction, but like everyone else, he gets nothing from me. My last bit of interest disappears due to his entitled tone. Oh, how I suddenly detest sharing oxygen with this man.

Contrary to what he may believe, I knew everything about him before this appointment was even set. I am prepared, I did my research, but he clearly did not, and that was his first mistake.

"You can go get him, I'll wait." He leans back in his seat and reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

"Smoking is not allowed in this building, Mr. Drake." He maintains eye contact as he lights the stick between his lips. After taking a long drag, he turns and exhales into my face. I keep my icy composure as several violent thoughts come to mind. My patience runs thinner as he makes his second mistake.

"That's a filthy habit you have there."

He laughs, unaffected. Normally, I would have already rid myself of such a pest. This day started well, and mostly, I have been in a good mood. Until now, that is.

"Mr. Drake, if you wish to deal with the Claymore family, then you are in the right place. I assume you can tell by the Claymore Group logo on the building and the fact that you are sitting in this office on the top floor. I am perfectly capable of attending to all your needs."

His eyebrow cocks up in a devious smirk as he lays his hand on my thigh. "Really, is that so?" His voice is deeper than it was a minute ago. I look down to where his filth is burning my exposed skin. Flashes of sharp pruning shears and spraying blood flash through my mind.

I inhale. "And that's your third mistake, Mr. Drake."

He grins at me again. "Do I get a prize now?" To think that there are actually people out there who find it acceptable to behave in this manner. Touching someone without their permission is sickening. Touching me in that manner is stupid.

I take his hand and remove it from my body before getting off my seat. "Tell me, Mr. Drake, what do you know about Sam Claymore and the rest of the Claymore family?"

He adjusts himself and smiles at me playfully. "The Claymore family is the most powerful family on the East Coast." I walk to the end of my office where I can take in the calming view of the city skyline. Besides his talking, the only other sound is the clicking of my heels on the black marble.

"Their wealth partially comes from owning many international companies that have dominated their respective fields for years. It's safe to say that they have their finger in every pot and make a shitload of money doing that."

I turn back around to face him. "And where else does this family obtain wealth, Mr. Drake?"

"Their illegal dealings," he states blandly. "They put a lot of effort into making sure that the public isn't aware of what goes on behind the scenes, but they are involved in everything. Drug trafficking, illegal gambling, black market auctions, you name it. Like I said, every pot."