Tempest - Kris Michaels

Chapter 1

Three years ago:

"Mother, please, this isn't necessary." The limo slowed, but the draped interior prevented Pilar Grantham from knowing exactly where they were other than somewhere in New York City.

Regina Grantham didn't bother to look up from her laptop. "Your inappropriate inquiries into my business dealings must be addressed, and do not call me that." The car stopped, and Regina finally looked up and pulled the curtain back a fraction of an inch.

Fine. She drew a deep breath and tried again. "Regina, you sent me to law school for a reason. My questions could eliminate potential problems for you. Working with insider information will eventually land you in prison." Her mother's business was laced with questionable actions in the limited areas she’d been allowed to see.

Regina examined her with cold disinterest. "I tell you what to do and when to do it. You work on the projects I send you. No others. You will not deviate from my instructions, and we will not have this conversation again. To emphasize my point, you will experience, first-hand, how I gain information." She flicked her finger toward the door. "Accompany the man waiting for you. Do not make a scene, Pilar. You bear my last name and you will act accordingly."

She held her mother's stare for as long as she could before she dropped it. Regina sighed and turned back to her laptop. "Go."

She slipped out of the car and gazed up at a dilapidated building. The man waiting ushered her into a huge bustling, warehouse, moving at a clipped pace so she had to mind her step in the heels she wore. The brute's hand gripped her arm, tugging her toward the elevator. She ripped away from his grasp. "Stop! I am Regina Grantham's daughter and I will be treated as such." She yanked her thin cotton top over her camisole and lifted her chin daring the man to say anything she could use against him. The titan sneered but retracted his hand. She sneered back at him. They understood each other. That was the power of her mother's name. People knew who she was, and no one wanted to make the woman mad. No one, herself included, however she'd pushed too far this time. God, she knew it when she opened her mouth. She knew Regina would be upset, but this little demonstration... it was over the top, even for an absolute control freak like Regina.

They went down an elevator in silence and wound through a maze of junk before she was led down a tunnel. She tripped in the darkness, the man clutched her arm in a painful grip. Once upright she jerked her arm from his grip. She glared at him. He motioned with his hand and they continued. Her mother's barbarian opened another steel door with a series of taps on a keypad.

Seriously, what was underground that was so important? Regina's secret vault of nefarious informants? Perhaps it was a tree that grew insider information. Or a magic wand...

The putrid stench slapped her first. She covered her nose and mouth with her hand. Tears stung the back of her eyes. A citrusy chemical astringent covered the undeniable smell of rancid body odor and... oh hell, she had no idea. "What in God's name died down here?"

The man chuckled and tipped his head to the left. She shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

The goon pointed down the hall and slammed the door behind her locking them both in the stench-filled confines. She glanced from the door to him. A skin-prickling sense of dread crept across her arms and neck. This, whatever this was, wasn't good. She threw back her shoulders and spoke through her hands which still covered her mouth and nose, "Fine, let's get this over with." She gagged and coughed as they headed down the hall. The floors, walls and ceiling were steel now, unlike the tunnel they'd traveled down. She was forced to take five or six to every one of the behemoth's steps. Being five-foot-nothing sucked sometimes.

She scurried to keep up with Mr. Mountain, but stutter stepped when she noticed the doors in this hall. All steel with bars up top and a single slat in the door. Prison. The word shot around her brain and ricocheted into ridiculous and terrifying thoughts. Surely her mother wasn't putting her in prison. The guard, yes, he was a guard, stopped in front of one of the doors and withdrew a set of keys.

"What are you doing?"