Page 12 of The Collector
Stoker worked for the Kings. And if this was his boss, then her father had gotten in way over his head.
"Get your hands off my sister, asshole!" Her voice cut through the silence, sharp and filled with sudden defiance.
Stoker smirked, his gaze unwavering as he responded with deliberate amusement. "This one's spicy—I like her. The members are going to love trying to tame her—don't you think, Rave?"
He released Cyndi, who wasted no time flying into her sister's arms. The instant she felt Cyndi's trembling body against her relief started to calm her.
Cyndi's now muffled cries filled the room, louder now that she was free from the man's grasp. Her petite frame seemed impossibly fragile against the firmness of Mynx's embrace.
"What the fuck is going on here?" She was furious. They had no right to come into her home. She clutched Cyndi tightly to her chest.
Both men looked at her, stunned by the brazen question. She asked again, "I know who you are," she pointed at Stoker, but why are you in my house with that piece of shit?" She pointed at her father, who sat as still as a statue, his teary eyes darting between the men and his daughters in desperation.
"Listen, I understand how you might feel walking into your house in the middle of the night to find two strange men in your living room, but I need you to calm down. Please take a seat and let me explain before things get too far out of control. Can you do that?" The man gestured for her to sit on the couch.
Reluctantly, she lowered herself onto the worn cushions, refusing to let go of Cyndi. Mynx glared at the man. Her face was stone as she waited for an explanation. Cyndi broke into another sob, tears raining down her pixie-shaped face.
"Calm her down first. Then we'll talk."
Mynx wasn't sure who he was, but his tone carried authority, the kind that demanded obedience. She might be brave, but she wasn't stupid. He crossed the room to sit in the armchair opposite her, his movements calculated yet fluid for the size of his tall frame. She saw the twin guns holstered at his sides. This was no game— these men meant business.
She held Cyndi's face, gently guiding it upward so that it met her gaze. "It's okay. Look, I'm here. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise. But I need you to calm down so I can figure this out, okay—?" Mynx tried to keep her voice soft and steady, serving as a thread of strength for Cyndi to cling to. She tucked astrand of blonde hair behind her sister's ear, watching as Cyndi took a shaky breath and wiped away her tears.
"Good?" Mynx asked. Cyndi nodded in response.
She turned her attention back to the men, her tone shifting from warm to steely. "Start talking. Why the hell are you in my house, touching my sister in the middle of the night? You part of some child trafficking ring or something?"
The man cleared his throat, his jaw tightening. She noticed his fingers flexing against the chair's arms as he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Let's keep this civilized, shall we?" His voice was calm, and his words were enunciated as he responded. She'd gotten under his skin with the remark.
"Good."
"I'm Raven." He gestured toward the burly man beside her father. "You said you know Stoker. We're here because your father, Thomas, made a deal with my father. He hasn't held up his end of the bargain after many failed attempts. So, after long negotiations, the three of us have come up with a plan to get my father back the money in another way."
She scoffed. "What does that have to do with me?"
Raven leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes locked onto hers. "Well, Thomas here tells us you're a dancer. Which works out for us all, because I have a club that needs high-quality dancers. I could take the payments your father owes out of your salary—if you agree to work at my club."
She froze, staring at him incredulously. "Why the hell would I do that? If he owes you money, take it from him! That bastard abandoned us months ago. He doesn't care about us, and we sure as hell don't care about him anymore."
Behind his tape gag, her father mumbled frantically, his muffled words unintelligible. His eyes pleaded with her.
Stoker cut him off with a sharp slap across the face, shaking his head in warning.
Raven didn't react to the interruption, his focus locking on her. "Here's the problem," he said, his tone colder now. "My father is the Capo of the Kings. I assume you know who the Kings are and what they do?"
I slept with the son of a drug lord. I have lost my fucking mind. This was why she didn't color outside of the lines, stuck to the rules. Mynx nodded.
"He's not the kind of man who likes being told he can't have his money back. If I can't find a solution that satisfies him, I'll have no choice but to kill not only you and your sister but your dying mother as well to satisfy him. Then, I'd have to burn your house down to eliminate any evidence. Believe me, this isn't my first rodeo, Butterfly. I can and will do it. Luckily for you, I try my best most days to give people grace and find better solutions than outright murdering them. Unlike my father. It's why I'm offering you this choice."
Her breath caught.Butterfly? Oh my God, it was him.The room blurred around her as Raven's words sank in.
What did she even say to that? It wasn't a choice—it was survival. Live or die. And it's being enforced by the man I haven't stopped thinking about for two weeks. The heir to an organization that had its hands in every illegal operation imaginable.She did not doubt that what he said was true. If she ignored the request, he would do what he said. He'd have no choice. I'm so fucked.
She tightened her grip on Cyndi; she'd never experienced the harshness of the real world. "What will happen to Mom and Cyndi if I agree to work at your club?"
"Nothing will happen to them— their lives will stay the same. I'll ensure the bills are paid. That they receive the money you usually contribute until you can return to handling thingsyourself. Everything else you earn will go to me—and ultimately, my father—until Thomas finds a way to clear the debt."
