El Nocturno Night Club Novels & Stories

"Not the poor girl who lost herself trying to please others." I nodded. "That girl is definitely dead." At six-thirty that evening, I changed into a sleek, black power suit. The Lunar Club was the most exclusive private club in New Moon City, open only to the supernatural elite. The doorman glanced at my invitation and respectfully led me inside. The interior was pure opulence—crystal chandeliers, leather couches, an air thick with the scent of money and power. So this is what the top feels like, I thought.

She shook her head, cheeks burning. That night they went clubbing. The venue was hidden behind an unmarked door in Chueca, velvet ropes parting for Ryan like water. Inside, the music throbbed — deep house, sensual and slow. Crimson lights washed the room in blood-warm hues. They drank chilled Albariño first, then something stronger, amber and smoky. The alcohol loosened Tiana’s limbs, and softened the edges of her restraint. They danced.

In the heart of the city, where neon lights flickered like stars in a perpetual night, the nightclub "Luminary" pulsed with life. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the faint tang of alcohol, while the bassline of the latest hit thumped against the walls, resonating through the veins of the revelers. The dance floor was a sea of bodies, a writhing mass of limbs and laughter, while the VIP section was a sanctuary of plush leather and hushed conversations.

By morning, exhaustion still clung to my body, I left Rynna safe under watch, returned home, cleaned myself up, prepared quickly, and headed back to Basque before noon. Basque wasn’t like the other clubs I’d known. It was order disguised as decadence. Unlike the others that pulsed with noise all day, this one opened only at nightfall, its hours running from 5 p.m. to 5 a.m.—a kingdom of shadows, perfectly designed for men like him. I'd known better over the years...

New York was a city of luxury, danger, and the kind of nightlife that made people forget the world outside. Noir was one of its best clubs, a place for the elite to unwind, and it just so happened to be owned by Ian Kingston, one of the city’s top billionaires. It was a Monday evening, and unlike other clubs, Noir was packed. Some people came to have fun, others for the show; tonight, one of the city’s most popular artists was performing. Ian, the owner, sat at one of the VIP tables across from a heavily tattooed Russian man who was puffing on a cigar as they discussed business.

Not enough to be a professional dancer, but apparently enough to try. I bent over and kissed Aria’s forehead softly. “I’ll figure it out,” I whispered. My voice trembled. The neon sign above the door blazed: LUNA NOIR. The club didn’t look like a club. It looked like sin carved in black marble. Tall obsidian pillars framed the entrance. A crescent-moon symbol glowed silver above the doors. The line outside was full of beautiful people, too beautiful. Sculpted bodies. Graceful limbs. Eyes that gleamed unnaturally under the streetlights.

Moscow took the phone from his ears and dip them into his pocket, he went back in and slumped on his seat, taking another bottle. There were about ten empty bottles and a steamed beef on the table when Wesley walked. He stared at the drunk fellas with a hand on his hips. “Look who came to join the party!” Eve pushed the table backward and stood up, her hands were on the table. “Wesley Enzo. A mafia...he’s not just any mafia he’s a boss!” Wesley jumped over and clamped her mouth shut with his hands. “What the fuck honey.” He held her close. Eve melt in his arms, he took his hand away and looked around, a bit relieved it was just them.

Lucius squinted at one slab after the other. Porcius taunted him. “You won’t be able to read any of that etched markings.” “I know,” Lucius replied, not making eye contact with him. Porcius continued, “Ever see anything like that by the mouth of Ostia?” “No,” Lucius admitted. “Ah Ostia,” Porcius lamented like he loved the port to the sea. “The bottom end of the toilet bowl that is Mare Nostrum. That musta been fun growing up in that smelly place.”

' She wondered. That Friday night, Chiara went with her father to Moonlight club. It was an exclusive nightclub frequented by socialites, celebrities and rich people owned by Carlos Nicolettis. Immediately they walked in, a huge man in the VIP section came down to meet them. They weaved around the drunk people on the dance floor and followed the man to an office in the back.

“I had to do something unexpected this morning so I have dropped behind my schedule. Are you available this evening?” Leo considered it. It was half price admission at his favorite nightclub tonight, but that happened once every week. He didn’t know when he would see his boyfriend again. That was more important. He nodded. “Excellent,” Nocturne said and kissed his cheek. “I will come back to you later on.” *** Nocturne had experienced a unique morning in the human world with Celeste. She had wasted time transforming into a human several times with different outfits and then once she was satisfied with her outfit, she had dragged him into a bookshop.