4 Clock Club Novels & Stories

He thought the little boy was going to be awake on seeing the girls demonstrating on stage, to his greatest surprise it didn't budge. I hope it's alive. Marley sighed and glanced at his watch with squinted eyes. Damn lights! They were straining his eyes yet again but he managed to figure out the digits anyway. Thirty minutes into midnight. It read. Drinking had gotten boring, the entertainment wasn't helping matters either. All in all, he crowned the club a no go zone. "I ought to get out of here," he whispered to Josh who was being entertained with a bimbo on his legs.

And then I remembered. The club. I had gone there, ages ago, before any of this happened. I had seen him there, and everyone treated him like royalty. He owned the place. I just needed to remember the name. I paced. I thought. I went through every memory of every club night I'd ever had. And then it hit me. The Den. The club opened at eight PM. I still had hours to kill. I drove to The Den at exactly eight-fifteen. The place was already filling up, bass thumping through the walls, neon lights flickering in the dark.

The apartment door remained open. Rain drifted through the hallway in the cool morning air. James turned the brass pocket watch over in his hand. No engraving. No manufacturer’s mark. Just worn brass… …and frozen hands pointing to 4:17. Charlotte unfolded the note again. The Fourth Door opens at 4:17. Don’t be late. She read it twice. Then a third time. “It doesn’t say morning.” Darrien looked at the wall clock. “It doesn’t have to.”

Adam made a point of scarfing down his meal as quickly as possible. That way, they could head straight to Ivo Morales' private club, which had a pretty suggestive name, by the way: "Lust." After all, that's exactly what you'd find there: every kind of sex and pleasure anyone could ever want to try. The club ran 24 hours a day, seven days a week—no breaks, no closing time. It was only for VIP clients: important men and women with loads of money and high social status.

“What! I have an appointment by ten in the morning.” “You can reschedule it till twelve. You are the CEO of Spencer Group, no one is going to complain even if you postpone the meeting to next week!” “Alright, I’ll go but no women tonight,” I sigh as I finally give in. “Suit yourself then,” he said. *** We arrived at the club at exactly eight. A loud music was blaring from the speakers and people were dancing and having fun with each other. I and Max sit at a corner and watch the fun going on around us.

I strapped them on. As I stood up, I wobbled violently. I had worn expensive designer heels my whole life, but nothing like this. Roxy grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip. "The club closes at four in the morning. When the brothers pass out or leave, we get the stage. Until then, sit in the corner and watch us. Learn how to smile when you want to scream." For the next four hours, I sat on a torn leather couch in the corner of the dressing room.

He was beginning to think that, maybe, maintaining a strategic distance from her wasn’t going to do him any good. Draco, Claw, Gage, and Leo were all hanging out in the club some time recently their Friday night. Actually, it was busiest on ends of the week, and they attempted to have week after week gatherings some time recently opening to talk about what to move forward on, what to keep doing, and at that point fair common chitchat.

"What kind of problem?" "He didn't say," Axel replied. "Just that it's urgent." We packed up quickly. The romantic mood shattered. Replaced by tension and worry. The ride back felt twice as long as the ride out. By the time we reached the clubhouse, it was after ten. The parking lot was full. Every member of the club was there. Including some I didn't recognize. "Who are they?" I asked Axel. "Allied clubs," Axel said, his voice tight. "This is bad."

It was fifteen minutes past ten o'clock in the evening, and I was sure that my brother was still awake waiting for me. It was still noisy inside the club due to the loud music and hyped people partying around. But in my two years of working here, my ears were already used to it. Lucy’s Club would be open until two in the morning. It was a good thing that my duty ends by ten o’clock—giving me additional time to study before I could sleep.

Surprisingly, no one attempted to flirt with the women or tried to invite them to leave the establishment or tamper with their drinks. Nothing is happening. The women were disappointed, sipping their drinks in the corner, observing the busy crowd, gyrating on the dancefloor to the DJ's techno music. Demetria and Clarice looked at each other. "Do we need to stay here until the club closes?" Clarice asks impatiently. "Let me check the time on my phone," Demetria said, grabbing her phone from the pocket of her pants. "The time is 11:00 p.m., one hour before midnight and nothing is happening yet," Demetria said, frustrated.