Page 48 of The Collector

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning. And Raven—don't fuck this up."

"I won't," he said. "I promise."

They had just been seated. Raven ordered the wine—bold, smooth, something that lingered. They were scanning the menu when Pierre Le Grange decided to interrupt.

"Raven," he said, voice smooth but edged. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Raven looked up slowly. "Pierre."

Pierre's gaze flicked to Mynx, then back. "I see you've found company this trip. Who's this, a new performer perhaps?"

"I have, and none of your fucking business."

"Fellini's," Pierre said, glancing around. "Bold choice. Not exactly discreet."

"Neither am I," Raven replied, folding his menu. "Was there something you needed?"

Pierre smiled, thin and practiced. "Just saying hello. And I wanted to remind you that we had an agreement, and you backed out on it. I want to be able to take the performers up to Elesia Fields again."

Raven didn't blink. "That agreement was conditional, and you broke the terms first. And now is not the time or place to have this discussion."

Pierre's jaw tightened, but the smile stayed. "You're playing semantics."

"No," Raven said, voice low. "I'm protecting what's mine. Blood Lust and its reputation."

Pierre's gaze flicked to Mynx again, lingering just long enough to make a point. "You always did have a soft spot for trouble. I'd like to see how trouble tastes on my lips."

Raven leaned forward, elbows on the table, calm but coiled. "Walk away, Pierre. While you still can."

Pierre held his stare for a beat longer, then gave a curt nod and turned, his exit as deliberate as his entrance.

Mynx exhaled slowly. "Who was that?

And why was he banned from Elysia Fields? I thought that was where the performers spent time alone with the members."

Raven picked up his menu again, eyes scanning but not reading. "He's a member of Blood Lust and an honorary with the Kings. Someone I want you nowhere near."

He leaned back, calm but coiled, the kind of stillness that held weight.

Mynx didn't speak right away. She watched him, watched the way his jaw tightened just slightly, the way his fingers curled around the edge of the menu like he was holding more than paper.

"Okay," she said finally. Not defiant. Not afraid. Just steady. "I trust you."

Raven nodded once, then looked up as the waiter approached. "We'll start with the mushroom and sausage tortellini," he said, his voice smooth again. "And another bottle of the Barolo."

The moment passed, but the tension didn't. It just folded itself into the silence as they were waiting.

Raven watched her as she spoke, the way her voice softened around gratitude. The way her eyes held his was steady and unguarded.

"Before we head back," she said, "I just wanted to say thank you. For the trip. The date. For opening up to me. I feel like my time at Blood Lust might not be so hard to manage… knowing I have someone on my side."

He didn't answer right away. He felt the words settle in his chest, heavier than they sounded. Not burdensome—just real. Just hers.

She trusted him. Said it out loud. And that meant something.

Raven reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers with quiet certainty. He didn't need to prove himself. Didn't need to dress up who he was.

She was his. And he was already hers in ways he hadn't planned.