Page 2 of Demanding Mob Boss

"Mr. Doyle, I did not expect you today. Can I do something for you?" She sounds obsequious.

He does not look at her. There is an air about him, like he is taking everything in with his blue gaze, assessing, cataloguing.

No one looks at him. They don’t want his attention to land on them. I wonder why. We are all here to apply for a receptionist position in the main lobby for Doyle Construction.

I don’t know what his role in the company is, but he must be either one of the owners or related to them. All morning, everyone in this room has done their best to catch Mrs. Bantry’s eye. Yet no one wants to catch his.

He fascinates me. The effect he has on the room is amazing. I revel in the calm.

His eyes land on me. Although I cannot tell him thank you because he probably would not understand why, I smile for the first time this morning.

Something flashes in his eyes. "Who are you?"

"She’s nobody. She is just here to apply for the job downstairs." Mrs. Bantry dismisses me with a wave of her hand.

I'll take self-important petty tyrants for five hundred, Alex.

Mr. Doyle's eyes do not leave mine. "I was not talking to you."

Mrs. Bantry gasps. "I am sorry Mr. Doyle. I did not mean to overstep."

I wonder if he can tell she is lying like I can. I do not have to see her to know. I can hear the insincerity in her voice.

"My name is Anna Lake," I tell him.

"You want to be our receptionist?"

I do not know how to answer. It feels wrong to lie to him. "I need the job."

He nods, like he hears the subtext of my words when almost no one else ever does."I need someone to work with my personal assistant, doing the grunt work."

I am not sure what he wants me to say. I like his bluntness. He does not try to dress up the job. Not like Mrs. Bantry, who gave us all a peptalk this morning about how being a receptionist here is a great opportunity, with potential to go far.

I did not believe her. I wonder if anyone else did.

"Oh, so that’s why you were down here. I’ll get right on that for you Mr. Doyle," Mrs. Bantry gushes.

Mr. Doyle looks over his shoulder at someone behind him. "She is what we have in charge of our human resources?"

"Apparently." I can’t see the speaker, but there is an Irish lilt to his voice.

"Tell Uncle Jimmy to get someone else. She annoys me." Though Mr. Doyle’s name is Irish, his accent is pure Chicago.

Mrs. Bantry makes a squawking noise and I look at her. She’s furious, her mouth set in a flat line, the fake smile completely gone. "You can’t just fire me."

"You don’t think so?" There is a quality to Mr. Doyle's voice, like he's daring her to disagree with him.

Mrs. Bantry flinches and remains silent.

CIAN

What the fuck is happening? I feel like I took a shot to the chest with my vest on.

It aches. Looking at the blonde beauty with the gorgeous tits sitting so primly in that boring office chair is doing something to me.

I fucking want her.

My cock is surging like she dropped to her knees and offered that pretty mouth. Violet eyes trap my gaze and I cannot look away.

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