Page 30 of The Collector
She didn’t know if her apology had landed. Maybe it hadn’t mattered. What was the lesson: power here didn’t announce itself. It moved in layers, in silence, in ritual. And she’d already stepped wrong.
She walked on, careful now. The ground beneath her wasn’t solid—it was watching. Learning the terrain—people, places, pressure points—wasn’t optional. It was survival.
Stoker rounded the car and slid his tall frame back into the driver’s seat, unobtrusive yet watchful of their shopping trip as she closed the door behind her.
The boutique exuded an air of exclusivity, its entrance framed by sleek glass panels and ornate golden accents that hinted at the luxury within. Soft, ambient lighting cast a warm glow over the meticulously curated displays, where designer gowns, tailored suits, and handcrafted accessories sat like works of art. Every piece was chosen with care—silks that shimmered under the light, velvets rich enough to drown in, and leather that carried the unmistakable scent of refinement.
"This place seems very upscale," Mynx said, her tone barely loud enough that Destiny could hear her.
"It’s— exclusive," Destiny replied. "It might look like it's open to the public, but you're not setting foot in this place withouta call from Shelby or Raven beforehand. And I overheard your conversation outside. Don't worry too much about Stoker. He looks like a hard ass, but that's what he's supposed to be. He's Raven's enforcer after all." She tossed her purse on the plush seating and began sliding garments on hangers along the rack.
Mynx shrugged. Maybe that's what she'd been sensing from Stoker—the need to do his job well.
Stepping beside Destiny, Mynx slid hangers along the rack, scanning for something that felt like her. Nothing had a price tag. Of course not. If you had to ask, you didn’t belong.
She scanned the racks, picked her favorites, and headed straight for the changing area. The first dress—a red satin slip—was tight and sculpted at the top, flowed to a full bottom. As she eased into it, she realized if she wanted answers from Destiny, she couldn’t come at it with sharp edges. She’d need to soften her approach, tilt the conversation more towards that of a budding friendship, and make her concerns feel more like curiosity than a full-on inquisition.
When she stepped out, her laughter came easily as she took in the beauty of the dress on her. She didn’t even look like herself.. The fabric swirled around her like smoke, catching the light when she spun, catching Destiny’s eye. She let it happen. Let go in the moment and try to feel comfortable.
You strip away their defenses by staying invisible. You interrogate without asking a single question.. Destiny clapped her hands in approval before quickly covering her mouth, eyes wide in exaggerated amazement—just like a best friend would. The moment was light, easy, a welcome respite from the weight pressing down on her since she stepped into this world.
"It's beautiful on you! You have to take it." Destiny’s voice rang, warm and insistent with the kind of praise that left no room for refusal.
Mynx turned slightly, letting the fabric catch the light. The dress shimmered, but it was the moment she was watching—how Destiny’s eyes lingered, how her tone wrapped approval in expectation. She’d forgotten how this felt. To feel beautiful.
She let her laughter rise again, softer this time. “You think so?”
“Most definitely, red does amazing things for your complexion. And the way it pours over your curves should be illegal. I’m jealous of those curves, girl. Own them.”
“I suppose you’re right. It’s just a little fancier than I’m used to. So, tell me about Raven? About the mansion?” Mynx hoped the questions didn’t land awkwardly.
Destiny’s playful expression dimmed slightly, not disappearing entirely, but shifting to something more measured. "That’s a lot to cover, and honestly, I don’t think we have enough time to get into all of it," she said with a slight shrug, handing Mynx another dress.
"But what I can tell you is that Raven is very different from his father—at least, according to Elanah."
Mynx caught the note of hesitation. "And you don’t believe her?"
Destiny chuckled as Mynx disappeared into the dressing room, the satin slipping from her frame as she stepped into the next dress.
"It’s not that I don’t believe her, but you have to take what she says with a grain of salt. She’s totally in love with the man."
Mynx stepped out of the dressing room, her movements slower than before, the question lingering in the air as she adjusted the hem of the dress.
"Are they together? Like a couple?" she asked, her voice steady, though the tightening in her stomach betrayed her unease. The thought of Raven being taken—of someone else holding his attention—gnawed at her in a way she hadn’t expected.
Please tell me he’s not with Elanah.
"Oh, she wishes," Destiny laughed, shaking her head. "Raven is pretty elusive—he might give someone his attention for a moment, but he never stays long enough for it to mean anything."
She studied Destiny’s face, watching for a flicker of anything deeper.
She glanced down at herself, smoothing out the new dress before meeting Destiny’s eyes again. "And the Kings— what about them?"
"Now that’s a different conversation entirely," she said, her voice quieter now. "One you’ll want to be careful about having. This boutique is not the place to talk about it. But I can come to your room later tonight—if you want?"
Mynx let the answer settle between them, knowing she had just scratched the surface of everything she needed to know and that, sooner or later, she’d have to dig deeper.
"Yeah, that would be great, maybe we can watch a movie or something, hang out—you can fill me in more. What do you say?" Mynx made her best attempt to make the serious conversation seem trivial, easing the moment.
