Breaking the Storm

by Sedona Venez

  “Wait…” I looked him up and down with contempt. “Did you honestly think you and I would actually skip into the sunset like some ridiculous reality show couple?” I laughed coldly. “You’re a starving artist. I need someone stable—like Luke. And from what I've seen tonight, you're not worth my time or effort. Good-bye, Knox Gunner.” Each word was like a knife in my chest. Painful, biting, a slow crawl that brought my soul closer to death. But I determinedly trudged on. I flipped my hair over my shoulder before starting the car. I pulled on the door, but he held on stubbornly.

  “This is not the end, Storm. It's only the beginning. I'll be back to claim what's mine.” His eyes were cold. “You.” He released the door, stepping back as I peeled away with tears streaming down my cheeks.

  My heart stuttered, shutting down that part of me that was willing to take a chance on love. Never again. He was the last man I’d ever open my heart to again. He's gone. History. The past I would never repeat again.

  CHAPTER 2

  FIVE YEARS LATER

  NEW YORK CITY

  The crisp fall air whipped around the terrace as I tucked my legs under me with a sigh. “Now this is living,” I mumbled under my breath, enjoying the panoramic 360-degree view of the Manhattan skyline, East River, Central Park, and Grand Avenue.

  This was my quiet time. My fifteen minutes of solitude. The lull before the storm. No mom, Aunt Lia, or Light barging into my private apartment in hysterics about some business conundrum. No phone calls from escorts whining about fucked-up assignments or pay raises.

  All was right in my world… at least for a few more precious minutes. Then all hell would break loose again and my life would resume its breakneck reality. The reality of dealing with the drama and chaos of business and family.

  “Storm! Where the hell are you?”

  Shit! Light was on the move and she was not a happy witch.

  “Your time is up,” Light barked as she swayed in looking like she just stepped off a runway with not one shiny jet-black hair strand out of place. It never ceased to amaze me how she could look like the picture of calm and coolness while inside she was a churning slew of unstable emotions.

  Sighing heavily, I sank lower into a lounging position. “Fifteen minutes, that’s all I asked for—and you couldn’t even do that.”

  Light's skin glowed as she clutched the two champagne minis to her chest like bars of gold. “Uh, no, I couldn't. I'm not equipped to deal with the shit storm brewing downstairs in the office.” She handed me a bottle as she plopped down beside me. “Three more escorts didn’t show up for their assignments. The phone is ringing off the hook with pissed-off clients. And I just ran out of alcohol. This shit is going down the toilet and the night’s still young.”

  “What did I tell you about raiding my refrigerator? These were gifts from Noah.” I tried to snatch the other bottle from her hand, but she expertly dodged my attempt. This was the downside of living with family—no privacy, the constant invasion of my space, and the pilfering of all my expensive stuff. It didn’t matter that apart from work, I shouldn’t have to put up with this annoyance in our expansive, five-story elevator townhouse.

  “Didn’t you hear the part about me running out of alcohol?” Light mumbled.

  “Go to your mother’s wing. Her place has all the good stuff.”

  Mid-sip, Light shot me an evil glare. “She changed the code to her floor. Damn witch.”

  I smirked at her. “Now why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

  She looked at me cheekily. “Uh, because you love me and adore my charming company.”

  Easing off the chair, I walked into the living room. “Nope, that’s not it. It’s because if I did, you would whine like a little puppy, annoying the hell out of me,” I responded before picking up my cell and striding into the elevator.

  Light followed me. “That’s a real bitchy thing to say… but true.”

  Ignoring her completely, my mind went into business mode, lining up all the calls I had to make to settle the tornado of chaos. One of them I didn't relish making at all. The elevator door slid open right into the open-concept office designed in a cross between ultra-modern with a bit of traditional thrown in.

  Reading my mind as usual, Light blurted, “And we’re calling that she-wolf first.”

  I refused to let her drag me under in her sea of rage. I ignored her completely, letting her rage over the dangerous Lacie predicament roll off me like rivulets of rain. I didn't need her hassling me over the fact that if this predicament were not handled correctly, it would bleed into every facet of our lives. It was an outcome that, knowing Lacie Gilden's devious mind, was exactly the goal she was hoping for—total anarchy.

  Through clenched teeth, I responded, “Will you just let me handle this, Light? I don't need you riling me up. I just need to clarify the legal ramifications of her actions. That's it.”

  It was a conversation I dreaded and it didn't help that Lacie and I had history—very bad history. A history that exploded into a cataclysmic, bloody brawl in high school. Everyone in the coven knew the Gildens were as ruthless as they came, and it didn’t help matters that they were our direct business competitors. A business that went to great lengths to steal our clients and employees by using tactics that would make even the most hardened criminal smile with pride.

  Light curled up onto the leather chair, sucking down the last drops of champagne with desperation written all over her face. Instantly, I knew she was hurting from the daily strain of keeping the barrage of human emotions from sending her crazy, and no amount of alcohol could disguise that.

  I was really worried about her. Shit, I was always worried about her because she was born with the worst luck of all the members in the family. She had the ability to sense all human emotions. The constant influx of feelings was overwhelming with no remedy to prevent them from completely making her crazy. We all tried different methods to help. The only thing that worked was dulling her senses with alcohol and me soothing her through our bond connection.

  So I did what I always did. I lowered my mental walls, allowing her to take a few sips of my emotions to put her mind in a neutral, calm state. It would cause me horrible migraine-inducing side effects later, but I was willing to take one for the Credence team. Light latched on to our connection with a sigh. She needed it to take the edge off her instability. My stomach heaved as my emotional state fluctuated from angry to delirious with each pull. It was too dangerous for me to let the connection linger, so I quickly severed it, immediately settling my emotions.

  Light's fingers trembled as she took a large gulp of champagne. “Thanks, Storm.”

  Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to the sweat on her forehead, I asked, “Why did you let it get so bad?”

  She leveled me with an irritated stare. “Because I'm tired of being a burden. I'm tired of everyone in this family treating me like I'm some incompetent hag who's one step away from going crazy. I'm just damn tired of not being treated like an equal around here.”

  I rolled my eyes. Shit, not this again. I could almost hear the woe is me violins playing in the background. “Okay, first, you are an equal. Our mothers made it legal by giving us equal shares in the business. Secondly, without your marketing genius, we wouldn't have as many new clients as we do. So stop fishing for compliments already.” I picked up my cell. “Now, I need to get myself mentally prepared and in control to make this fucking call.”

  “See? That's your problem. Way too much control. For once will you just let go? Unleash those well-manicured claws and let her know that you mean business. Otherwise, I will.” She flexed her fingers around her glass. “Gladly.”

  I scoffed. “Uh-huh, that's exactly what we need. Both of us getting all crazy New York on her ass.” Nope, that wouldn't be good. Light and I could get downright mob-like when we put our minds to it. This was a state that we hadn’t gotten to since college. Well, at least I hadn't. I was no longer the wild, impetuous girl who allowed emotions to di
ctate my life. I put that shit aside years ago. No, this situation demanded meticulous calm and stealth. And if that didn't work, I wasn't above deadly intent mode.

  The gloves were off when it came to messing with our bread and butter. And I would be damned if I let some spiteful she-wolf sully our reputation just because she was bitter. We worked too hard to maintain our reputation as Credence “Other” Corporation. Secretly New York’s most sought after Other escort service providing over-the-top discreetness and exclusivity to our clients—Other men who had a preference for Other women, but without all the drama of unnecessary attachments. With clients demanding the elite of beautiful Other women as arm candy when they were in town on business.

  My heels clicked along the entry diamond-cut flooring with light and dark contrast as I walked toward the wall-to-wall windows overlooking the Manhattan skyline. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I clenched and unclenched my fingers before tapping the numbers.

  “Lovely, a call from Stormy Credence. What do I owe the pleasure of a call from the elite Credence O. Corporation?” Lacie's answering purr was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  I gritted my teeth, pushing down the anger. I needed to be crisp and to the point. “Lacie, it’s really unprofessional and against the rules to call our escorts, pressuring them to leave our employment.”

  Lacie laughed mockingly. “I can't help it if they’re interested in making real money without all of the ridiculous Credence O. restrictions.”

  I wanted to reach through my cell and choke the hell out of her. “Restrictions, as in ensuring that our clients are clear that we are not a prostitution service?” I asked coldly.

  Lacie clucked her tongue. “Prostitution is such an ugly word. My business provides a service of pleasure that demands high compensation,” she responded with an air of arrogance.

  “Put whatever pretty spin you want on it. It's straight-up prostitution,” Light interjected.

  I quickly cut her off before she launched into a full-on verbal attack. “Look, Lacie, if they want to join your family's prostitution ring, I don't care.” Light snickered as she poured more champagne into fluted glasses. I winked at Light before continuing. “But as you are fully aware, all of our escorts are under contract, and severing it incurs a hefty fine.” I paused dramatically. “Now you and I know that as beautiful as the escorts are, they're not loyal and definitely not stupid. So when I start garnishing their wages, fingers will start pointing to their new employer—you—to pay the fines for them. Now I really don't want this to get ugly. Like bringing your ass before the Other Council ugly. But I won't hesitate if you don't back the hell off.”

  I was bluffing. Going before the pompous members of the Other Council would be as enjoyable as going to the OB/GYN.

  Lacie’s voice was cold. “You can’t threaten me, hybrid.”

  “This hybrid just did.” My jaw tightened before continuing. “Next time, think about the ramifications before you go fucking with our business.”

  “You bitch!” Lacie sputtered.

  I disconnected, walking over to my desk and picking up the two newly signed contracts with freshly inked names—Ryker Alfero and Brad Camero. Damn, this was a freaking nightmare. What were the odds of having two Alpha shifter's demanding escorts on the same night? Pressing my finger to the Biometric Safe lock, I pulled open the door, placing the contracts in before slamming it shut.

  “Thank goodness we’re done with that trash,” Light muttered as she turned on the flat-screen television.

  “For now,” I responded glumly because we would never be done with her or her family. My back stiffened when a commercial suddenly blasted a very familiar rock song. Knox’s song from his new album.

  Light's eyes narrowed shrewdly on me. “I do love that song.”

  “Uh-huh, whatever,” I responded.

  “Interesting. Still angry, huh?” Light responded.

  “Angry about what?” I was so done with this conversation.

  “I saw what happened that night… with Knox,” Light blurted out.

  Cringing with shame, I just stared. “Well, this is fucking embarrassing.”

  Light snorted. “Embarrassing? You've got to be kidding me, right? I've seen you at your worst, like holding back your hair while you threw up after a hard night of partying.” She pointed at me. “Now that's embarrassing.”

  “Well, yeah that's true. But it's just that you never said anything. Why?”

  “Because I was waiting for you to tell me.” Light looked at me pointedly. “That night, I followed you backstage just to make sure everything was all right. And when I saw what happened between you and Knox, I was like good riddance to that asswipe.” She paused. “I love you and wouldn't want you hurt for anything in the world, but you and I knew he had to go. And what he did was a prime example of why.” She looked at me pointedly. “But you know that even after that shit he did, I still think that it takes too much energy to hate him.”

  My eyes widened. “Do you know you have the logic of a psychotic woman?”

  She shrugged. “What can I tell you? I keep it real simple. Less tears are spilled that way. Now get over here and have a drink. My favorite show is on.” Her eyes went wide as she focused on the television, pointing in the general direction of an ornate champagne glass sitting on the marble coffee table. She could make a celebratory drinking soiree out of any life event—good or bad.

  A young, blond, bubbly TV host appeared on the screen, smiling like she won the lottery before saying:

  “Hello, my lovelies. Gigi Bordeaux here to rock your world with the hottest celebrity news. Well, women are fainting at the latest tidbit. After a two-year hiatus, the reclusive but sexy Knox Gunner finally comes back to the state so nice that you have to say it twice. New York, New York. And last night, fans got a scrumptious taste of the notoriously wicked superstar performing his scorching hot hit single at the music awards. And let me be the first to say congrats, Knox, on winning an award for Song of the Year and Best Rock Album.

  “His performance is the kickoff for his long-awaited world tour set to kick off next week in New York before making its way around North America with stops in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. And tickets are hot—hot—hot”—she made an exaggerated sad face—“and unfortunately, sold out.”

  She licked her pouty lips, staring dead at the camera before flicking her hair like she was in some damn shampoo commercial. “But hold on to your designer panties. I’ve scored the hottest interview yet. I’ve been granted a coveted interview with Mr. Hotness himself. Knox—Knox—baby!” She leaned toward the camera, batting her fake eyelashes. “It will be backstage and real personal.” Her voice got husky. “Stay tuned, ladies.” She fanned herself. “This is bound to be a hot one.”

  “You hear that, Storm? Knox is in New York.” She gave me her best beauty contestant smile. “And guess what? You're in luck. I have a connection that can get us front-row tickets and VIP backstage passes.”

  “Not that I'm remotely interested in your connection, but who did you have to blow to get access to the God of Rock?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not that I'm opposed to giving a well-deserved blow job, but none was required. Liam called me this morning to say that he was in town and would love to take me out to dinner.”

  “Liam?” My eyes widened. “I didn't know that you still talked to him.”

  “Oh, don't give me that hurt look like someone just stole your fucking bike. I haven't talked to him in years. But out of the blue, I got the call.”

  My brows furrowed. “I thought you hated him.”

  She shrugged. “I do. He’s a conceited bastard I’m playing like a Ken doll.” She winked at me. “Besides, with Knox back in town, my week just got a little more interesting. Can you imagine the reunion this will be? You—me—Knox. Just one big, dysfunctional reality show.”

  I looked over the rim of my eyeglasses. “I hate you!”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t hate the messenger. It’s all go
od. You’ve moved on from him. Besides, I heard his opening act is smoking hot. We can act like wild groupies for one night.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “With no freaking repercussions and all the hot rocker sex we can handle.”

  Pursing my lips with displeasure, I thumbed through my cell contacts. “No tickets. I don’t do the groupie thing. Besides, you and I have way too much work to do.” My heels clicked as I paced back and forth with my cell on speaker. “Celina? Where the hell are you? You missed check in.”

  Light propped her feet on the leather couch with her eyes fixed on the television. “Oh hell, Storm, you sound too whiny. Put more Domme in your voice like our mothers. Trust me on this, our ladies love it.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

  I gave her an irritated glare before continuing. “Celina, call me ASAP. We have a legacy client looking for a wolf-shifter escort for his friend. It’s a birthday gift. So get your cosmetically enhanced ass ready to meet him, pronto.” I slid my finger across the screen, disconnecting.

  Light clapped her hands. “That’s it, girl. Tough. Hot. Domme kickass.”

  I quirked a brow. “Are you trying to make me kick your ass?”

  “What?” Light responded with her usual impish smile.

  “Dragon witch,” I barked into my cell, calling my mother—the witch from hell. And just like the last five times, it rolled over to voicemail. I looked at the cell with frustration. “Why the hell is she not answering her cell?”

  “Coven Retreat.”

  “Coven Retreat? It can't be that time of the year already.”

  “Yes, Storm. They go to the same retreat every year. Witches gather. Discuss Other business. Get drunk. Get laid. And come back home well-fucked and smiling like a Cheshire cat.” She sighed loudly. “I'm so damn envious and can't wait until our mothers retire so we can finally get our invitations.”

  “As much as I adore a good lay, you couldn't pay me to spend three weeks locked at some retreat with those backstabbing women.” Only the top Other matchmaking businesses got invited to a three-week retreat at a luxury resort. It was a mixture of business and a lot of pleasure with mostly cougar Others on the prowl. Pulling my thick bra-strap-length, curly auburn hair away from my neck, I blew out with frustration because it was irritatingly hot on my neck, the prime reason I always wore it pulled back in a sleek ponytail. It was less of a hassle.