Page 50 of The Collector
But it wasn't there.
She checked the drawer. The nightstand. Under the bed. Nothing.
Her stomach dropped. That diary held everything—her thoughts, her fears, the truth about how she felt about Raven. If someone had taken it…
They could use it against her, keep Raven from her. No. She wasn't going there. Not yet.
But the room suddenly felt less safe. And the silence, heavier than before.
Mynx finished her makeup, and she stared at her reflection. Her face looked calm, composed—like she was ready for the night. But inside, she was anything but.
She didn't want to be here. Didn't want to deal with a room full of ruthless performers and power-hungry men who saw her as something to use up and toss aside. She wanted Raven. Wanted her diary back. Wanted her things—her privacy, her thoughts, her control.
They'd been stolen from her room yesterday, and she knew exactly who to blame.
Elanah.
It had to be her. The timing was too perfect. That smug little speech in the hallway, the way she'd looked at Mynx like she already knew too much. She'd read the diary. That's why she'd come at her so hard—why she'd twisted the knife with everyword. She knew how Mynx felt about Raven and was doing everything she could to keep them apart.
Mynx's jaw tightened. She wasn't just angry. She felt exposed. Violated. Like someone had cracked open her chest and rifled through everything she'd tried to keep hidden.
She wasn't going to let it slide. Not this time.
The fabric of her dress hugged her like liquid light. Deep green, cut to command attention, it shimmered with every step, casting ripples that danced across the room. Lab-created diamonds draped across her collarbone, forming a delicate choker that caught the light like frost. Gold chains linked the daring V-cut at the front and back, sparkling like fireflies as they reflected the gem-encrusted edges.
She adjusted the golden filigree butterfly wings on her shoulders. The final touch: long, teardrop earrings that swayed as she lifted her chin. A quiet, confident statement. A reminder to herself that no matter how unsettled she felt about Raven—or Blood Lust—she was here to own her place.
One thing she knew for sure was her feelings for Raven needed to be placed on the back burner tonight. She needed to focus on the plan she and Destiny had laid out on her first night in the mansion. Just in case Raven didn't feel the way she did. She wanted to protect herself. She couldn't let her emotions be the guiding force of the evening. Her family depended on her. Failing wasn't an option.
Mynx could feel the weight of the night's performance pressing down on her, the butterflies dancing in her stomach. The tightness in her throat battled with the elegance of her choker. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, waiting for the moment to pass.
Tonight, she had to own the moment and step into this world like she belonged, even if everything she clung to felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Even if her feelings for Raven hadher gasping for air, she paused, remembering the way his touch caused a chemical reaction in her that she couldn't quite put a finger on. Something feral and possessive within screamed that he was her's, even when she barely knew the man.
God, what was she thinking?Taking a deep breath to slow her racing pulse, she headed down to take her place amongst the dozen or more women already waiting to be escorted to the club in the foyer.
The hum of anticipation in the room from the other performers made the night seem full of possibility. Mynx only hoped she would make it through the evening without stumbling into something she couldn't handle.
"Ladies," the butler said as he opened the front door. "Your transport for the evening has arrived; I trust you will all stay safe and have a pleasant evening." With that, he stepped aside for them to pass through the door, armed guards flanking them as they departed.
Mynx walked toward the waiting cars, heels clicking against the pavement. She caught sharp laughs and hushed gossip slicing through the air. Women passed her in clusters, their voices low, their glances quick.
She leaned in, listening hard.
Someone mentioned Raven. Another muttered about "new girls and their secrets." Mynx scanned their faces, searching for clues—anything that might lead her to the missing book and bunny.
No one said her name, but the tension felt rehearsed. They knew something. And they weren't hiding it well.
She kept moving, but her mind raced. Someone had taken them. Someone wanted her off balance. And she wasn't about to let that happen. The only one that lingered was Elanah's. Her expression was unreadable, her lips curved at the corners, just enough to stir suspicion in Mynx's chest.
What did she know?
Was it the secrets Mynx had tucked away in her diary—the raw, unfiltered pieces of herself she'd never said out loud? Everything that had happened between her and Raven, the moments that still clung to her skin like heat?
Maybe Elanah had read it. Perhaps that's why she'd come at her so hard. Maybe she had some twisted plan to make Mynx unravel before her first night at the club, to shake her confidence and watch her stumble.
Mynx tried not to let the look affect her. Tried to keep her face smooth, unreadable. But Elanah's eyes were sharp, searching, and Mynx could feel the doubt flickering behind her own.
She hated that. Hated that Elanah might see it—might know she'd gotten under her skin.