Page 52 of The Collector

"I'll try not to hog all the worship," she said, adjusting one of the golden butterfly wings on her shoulder. "But no promises."

Destiny grinned. "Fair enough. Just make sure Elanah sees it. Let her choke on the envy."

Mynx's smile sharpened. Tonight wasn't just about surviving her debut. It was about making them see her—really see her, not as someone to use or underestimate, but as someone to reckon with.

And if Elanah wanted a war, she'd get one in heels, diamonds, and a dress that shimmered like vengeance.

Mynx forced herself to recall details from her binder—the structure, the hierarchy of Blood Lust. The ground level, known as Hell, was open to the public, acting as little more than an entryway to the club's true core. Some local dancers performed on the floor, enticing visitors to experience the allure of the club without the further decadence a membership would afford.

Purgatory occupied the second floor, a space reserved for prospects—eager to be seen, desperate to ascend. This floor held hopeful prospects, as they lingered in limbo for sometimes weeks while undergoing rigorous vetting before being granted access to the elite realms that remained their ultimate goals.

Heaven, the third floor, was where the true indulgence of Blood Lust began. Dancers entertained guests in lavish surroundings, each performance designed to captivate, enthrall, and inspire extravagance. Until a guest reached Heaven, they were nothing—a mere shadow among the privileged.

And at the pinnacle—Elysian Fields. The fourth floor, reserved for the most affluent, offered private retreats and overnight stays, allowing guests to indulge in the full breadth of Blood Lust's offerings.

A hushed exchange caught Mynx's attention.

"So, did you hear what Elanah has planned tonight?" One of the women murmured to her companion, a voice dipped in secrecy.

"No, do tell. That woman is always scheming to pin Raven down. Please tell me this one's going to be entertaining."

"You won't believe me, but I'll spill and let you decide." A pause, a glance over her shoulder, a silent challenge. "I heard she plans on dosing him with ecstasy and getting him alone after her performance on the main stage. And fucking him until he can't remember his own name."

Mynx watched as the woman shot a glare in their direction, daring Destiny—or anyone listening—to interfere.

"It's not like we don't all partake anyway," Wendi scoffed, shaking her head. "And they've had something going on for ages. Why would I find that shocking?"

"Because it's obvious he's been trying to distance himself from her lately?"

"Then she's playing with fire," the woman mused. "Elanah is stunning—I don't see why she doesn't just pick from the dozens of men lining up for her."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Wendi shrugged as she and her friend stepped off the elevator.

Destiny exhaled slowly, turning to Mynx with an unwavering gaze. "Listen, don't let the hyenas around here get under your skin. Those two are Elanah's friends, and I wouldn't put it past them to try and mess with your head before your performance tonight." Her tone softened, shifting focus. "Let me introduce you to Ryan. He's the club's manager—he reports directly to Raven and Stoker. If you run into any problems, go to him. He'll take care of you."

Mynx gave a slight nod. "Thanks, that makes things easier." Then, after a beat, she asked, "Where does Raven usually hang out when the club is open?"

"How are things with you, too? Have you spent any more time together since Cabo?"

Mynx hesitated, the question catching her off guard. Cabo felt like a lifetime ago—sunlight, salt air, Raven's hand on her waist, the way he'd looked at her like she was the only thing worth watching.

But since they'd been back? Silence. Distance. And now the stolen diary, Elanah's venom, and the ache of not knowing where she stood.

"We haven't really talked," she said finally, keeping her tone light, neutral. "Things have been… complicated."

Destiny gave her a sympathetic look but didn't press.

"I'm sure he's just been busy."

"Ladies," Ryan greeted, extending his hand to Mynx, his touch delicately meeting hers. His eyes lingered for a moment before he said, "You must be our new addition, Mynx." A knowing smile flickered across his lips. "That outfit is pure perfection—beautiful. I love the concept. The props you ordered arrived and are waiting backstage. You'll need to coordinate with our sound and lighting team for your music and their release."

"Told you my girl would come through," Destiny said, "This is going to be epic."

"Now, darling," Ryan said, smoothing his beautiful silk scarf into place. "If you haven't met any of the male dancers yet and you need introductions or want a meet-and-greet, you'll want to come to me or my partner, Roman." With a graceful gesture, he pointed toward the bare-chested man behind the bar—stunning in his skillfully done makeup, his features illuminated under the soft glow of the lights. Not only beautiful, but undeniably fit, his presence carried both elegance and sultry masculinity. The man wiggled his fingers in a small hello as he continued to prep his bar for the evening.

Roman walked down the bar and handed her a drink. She lifted it to her dry lips and took a small sip. The cool pink liquid had a taste reminiscent of coconut and cotton candy, with a hint of sour cherry as a top note. It was dangerously delicious.

"Well, it's clear you have perfected the art of drink making, Roman. This is delicious, your recipe?" Mynx asked.