From the Office of Havoc & MorosDear Miss Nadine Von,

We are pleased to inform you that your recent application for the personal assistant position has been carefully reviewed, and your qualifications align well with the requirements of our team. Your extensive experience makes you a strong candidate for this role, and we are excited about the potential contribution you could make to our company. We invite you to come in for an interview so that we can discuss your background further and determine if there is a mutual fit. In the meantime, please don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions or need additional information about the position.

We want to meet with you on June 6th at 1 PM. If this date and time works for you, please call us at (854) 669-6969

We look forward to potentially welcoming you aboard our team.

Sincerely,

Havoc Moros

CEO

Havoc & Moros Inc.

666 Devil's Dyke Road

Slaughter Beach, SC 66699

"Who names their business after their first and last name like it's two different names?" Emily asks as she sits crisscross on my bed, holding my interview acceptance letter. "And who sends a letter and doesn't call to schedule an interview."

"Maybe he was busy, hence needing an assistant," I argue while holding two different blouses to my chest. First impressions are key, so I want to ensure I look professional and put together.

Emily rolls her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Yes, because writing a letter and putting it in a mailbox saves so much time," she says, tossing the letter onto the bed. "And the business is located on Devil's Dyke Road? I didn't even know we had a Devil's Dyke Road."

"Yeah, I think it's on the south side," I say, turning to her and holding up the two blouses. "Which blouse do you think will make the best impression?"

I hold up one blouse in a bold red and another in a stylish black.

Emily's jaw drops open. She becomes a stunning onyx statue on my off-white bed. The light from outside spills across her lovely, smooth skin like moonlight on a midnight lake. "Nadine!" she shouts, snapping out of her stupor. 

"What?" I glance down at the blouses. Are neither appropriate for this type of interview? The black one has a plunging neckline, but it's classic; the red is modest, though the color might be too bold.

"The address is six-six-six! That doesn't freak you out?" Emily exclaims, snatching the piece of paper and pointing to the address. "You could end up being Satan's personal assistant!"

"Oh, please," I scoff as I cross the cold wooden floor and toss the two blouses onto the bed in front of her. "If Satan had his own business, renting a building at six hundred sixty-six on Devil's Dyke Road is a bit too on the nose, isn't it? Besides, I seriously doubt Satan needs a personal assistant," I say, trying to calm her down.

"It's probably just a coincidence or someone with a twisted sense of humor. Besides, I need a job, and the pay is decent. I can't expect you to support me while I keep searching in this tight market. This is the only callback I've received."

Emily narrows her eyes at me, clearly unconvinced. "I don't know, I have a bad feeling about this. What if it's a cult or something?"

"Well, then I guess I get to claim my tithes to the Church of Satan on my taxes." I shake my head, trying to dismiss her concerns. "Come on, Emily, don't be ridiculous. It's just a job interview. I'll be fine."

Emily continues to express her concerns. "I'm just saying, maybe you should research a bit more before your interview. Make sure it's a legitimate company and not some shady organization."

"I don't have time or any other choices for that matter. So please—" I push the blouses closer to her. "Help me pick out a shirt."

Emily sighs but ultimately gives in. Her gaze shifts to the two blouses. "White would appear more professional," she remarks.

"White would make me look like a penguin once I put the blazer on," I tell her, pointing to the black jacket hanging off my desk chair.

Emily chuckles at my comment, shaking her head in amusement. "But a very cute penguin. A non-Satan-worshipping penguin. Almost nun-like," she says with a smile.

I can't help but laugh at Emily's response. She always knows how to lighten the mood with her sharp wit and playful banter. "Yes, because let's add celibate to my ever-growing baggage claim."

Emily laughs even harder at my sarcastic remark, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey, nothing wrong with a little celibacy," she teases, nudging me playfully. "Besides, who needs a significant other when you have me as your partner in crime?"

I can't help but smile at her words, grateful for her friendship and the way she always knows how to make me laugh. "You're right," I say, feeling lighter already. "Who needs romance when I'm a nun-like penguin?"

We both burst into laughter, the earlier tension dissipating. When Emily wipes the tears from her eyes, she finally points to the black blouse. "If I'm not going to wear a white blouse, then I guess the black blouse is best, but ditch the blazer."

I nod in agreement and slip on the blouse. Turning back to the mirror, I adjust the neckline to look professional yet confident, mature, sexy, and sophisticated. The black blouse fits my figure perfectly, giving me a sense of empowerment and poise. Emily smiles approvingly. Her earlier worry is replaced by admiration.

I pair the blouse with sleek trousers. I can't help but feel a surge of confidence wash over me. This outfit isn't just about looking good; it's also about feeling good.

With one final glance in the mirror, I straightened my posture and met Emily's gaze. "Thank you," I say sincerely. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Emily smiles at me. "You've got this," she responds with confidence. "Now go out there and be the best satanic assistant you can be."

As I walk out the door and head toward the elevator, I can't help but feel grateful to have such a supportive friend like Emily. It makes me even more determined to ace this interview and secure this job. Would she cover my share of the rent and sacrifice for months on end if I needed her to? Yes. That's why I have to get this job.

I take a deep breath and straighten my posture as I enter the elevator. Emily's words of encouragement echo in my mind, giving me confidence that I carry to the subway station.

'As a highly motivated, skilled, and experienced individual, there are several compelling reasons why a company should consider hiring me. Firstly, my diverse skill set and expertise make me a valuable asset to any team. With a proven track record of exceeding targets and delivering high-quality results, I am confident in my ability to drive success for the company.' I recite to myself as I step into the car that will take me to the city's south side.

I hope Mr. Moros doesn't ask me which abilities will contribute to the success of his business because, despite trying to Google Havoc & Moros Inc., I came up with nothing regarding the services they provide.

I really should have done more research before this meeting. I don't want to appear unprepared or uninformed. Maybe I can steer the conversation toward a different topic or ask more general questions about the industry. Hopefully, Mr. Moros will understand and appreciate my honesty rather than expecting me to have all the answers right off the bat.

By the time I arrive at my stop, I've rehearsed my little speech a hundred times, and I'm not nearly as confident as I was when I left Emily's and my apartment. The air on the south side weighs down on my shoulders and makes every step up from the subway tunnel even more challenging.

As I walk toward my destination, my nerves weigh heavier with each passing moment. The sounds of the city fade into the background as I concentrate on the words I will soon have to say. My palms are sweaty, and my heart races, but I know I must push through this fear.

I plug the address for Havoc & Moros into my phone and follow the little arrow that leads to a secluded part of town. Slaughter Beach isn't a hot, bustling city, but people are always around. However, with each step, I notice that the buildings are starting to look more and more desolate.

The streets are eerily quiet, with only my footsteps echoing off the crumbling buildings. I can't shake a sense of unease as I approach the address for Havoc & Moros.

As I approach the entrance, a chill runs down my spine. The building looms dark and foreboding, devoid of any signs of life inside. I hesitate, wondering if Emily was right. I should have researched this company more thoroughly before arranging this interview.

A pale horse reared on his hind legs pops against the black background of the glass doors, with the gothic-style Havoc & Moros Inc. typed around him.

"Horses are nice, right?" I tell myself as I push open the creaking door. Inside, the air is thick with dust and the scent of age. The building looked huge from the outside, but I noticed only room for one desk in the lobby once inside. It sits empty. There is no sign of life in this entire place.

"Hello?" I call out before glancing at my watch to check the time. Twelve-fifty-nine. I'm just a minute early.

I take a few hesitant steps further into the building, the floorboards groaning beneath my weight. The silence is deafening, and I can't shake the feeling of being watched. My heart races as I make my way to a dark mahogany door labeled Havoc Moros, C.E.O.

As I reach for the nearest door handle, a sudden gust of wind swings it open in front of me before my fingers can touch the handle.

I freeze in place, my breath catching in my throat as I stare into the dimly lit room beyond. The air feels heavy with anticipation, and a chill runs down my spine. Without thinking, I take a hesitant step forward, the floor creaking beneath me.

The room is shrouded in shadows, and the only light source is a single desk lamp. The lamp illuminates a figure sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize that the figure is none other than Havoc Moros himself.

His piercing gaze meets mine, sending a shiver down my spine. Without saying a word, he gestures for me to enter the room. My heart pounding in my chest, I take a deep breath and step inside.

The door swings shut behind me with a resounding thud, leaving me alone with the enigmatic C.E.O. of this mysterious building. The silence is suffocating as Havoc Moros studies me with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes seem to bore into my soul, searching for something I can't quite understand. I try to maintain my composure, but his presence is overwhelming.

Finally, he breaks the silence with a low, gravelly voice. "You're right on time, Miss Von. Please have a seat."

I should have listened to Emily. I might be interviewing for a job as Satan's personal assistant.

🖤🌹🖤🌹

WC chapter 1: 1885

Total: 1885

Thank you for reading the first chapter of 'Falling for Havoc.'  I hope you enjoyed it.  I can't wait to hear your thoughts and look forward to feedback from you as well.  

If you are a fellow ONC participant, please let me know the title of your book.  I'd like to take a peak and help support you as well.

I welcome criticism, as long as it's meant for help and not harm. So feel free to point out mistakes and make suggestions on how I can improve.

Till next time, 

M. E. R.