Hotel London Novels & Stories

He bowed slightly, "Please get in the car. I will be your ride to the hotel," Natasha and Alec entered the car and soon, it drove up in high speed to one of the best hotel in London; Cafe Royal hotel. It was an expensive hotel where only rich elites booked, am hotel that a pauper can never go too. Alec walked in the hotel, his shades on. He walked to the receptionist and gazed at her. "I would like to have two rooms," Alec said indifferently passing his debit card to her The receptionist gazed at him, her eyes twinkling, she seemed to have something for him, scrambling her hands through the computer, she gazed up at Alec.

Seraphina The text message gave an address in Zurich’s financial district and a single word: Penthouse. The hotel is the kind of place I’ve only seen in magazines. All glass and steel and money. The kind where rooms start at two thousand francs a night and the lobby has actual artwork worth more than most people’s houses. “Are you sure this is right?” I ask as we approach the entrance. Dominic checks his phone. “This is the address.” A doorman in a crisp uniform opens the door before we reach it. “Mr. Ashcroft?”

Cecily mumbled, nonetheless. The limo halted in front of the Hotel De Mon, the oldest and grandest hotel in New York City. It had been the venue for the convention for nearly a hundred years, as the Lycan was one of its shareholders. Once, he'd attended these events with his alphas, but he hadn't done so in decades. No one knew why.

Am I at the right place? Well I am. The receptionist cross-checked my invitation card against the list of guests. The London Eye glitters like a giant platinum ring, and the Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster, gleaming like gold against the evening sky! What a view! I don’t mind the chill. November isn’t a bad time to be in London. Table number four it is. Four is my lucky number! But just thirty tables? Makes sense. It’s not crowd, it’s The Crème.

I narrate excitedly. “Budget?” She asks and I think through but nothing comes to me, so I shrug. “Two hundred million.” I smile in triumph. “Got it,” Tatiana responds and I cut the call. After a series of discussions with hotel managers and checking on Tatiana, I settle on a venue that screams GRAND – The mighty Lockhart Hotel. The best hotel in the city and the third in the world. It’s almost impossible to make a reservation but I’m Victoria Smith and what I want, I get.

He had no idea. Hours later, almost afternoon. We landed in London. With Black, Storm and three other guards. Cars were already waiting for us. Carmelo said he already booked a hotel for us. I have been to London several times before, but I have never been to this part of London. South Kensington.

The gentle caress of the night breeze brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine, as I held onto a whiskey bottle, its amber liquid offering a touch of warmth against the cool night air. London, a city steeped in history and grandeur, stretched out before me. The iconic landmarks stood tall and proud, as if guarding the secrets of the centuries past. The majestic silhouette of the Tower Bridge commanded attention, its majestic towers rising above the River Thames. The London Eye, a colossal Ferris wheel, stood as a testament to modern engineering, offering a panoramic view of the city.

"London is for business. The High Council doesn't just run on blood, Leona; they run on the London Stock Exchange. They hide their crimes behind shell companies and offshore accounts. If you want to kill a beast this big, you don't aim for the heart. You aim for the bank account." ​We moved through the city like shadows in a graveyard. The London we occupied wasn't the one the tourists saw. We stayed in a penthouse apartment in Mayfair that wasn't registered in any name—a "black site" Malakai had maintained for years, hidden behind layers of digital ghosts. The walls were glass, offering a panoramic view of the city’s skyline, but the windows were reinforced with electromagnetic shielding. ​

she advised. “Yea, we will. Thank you.” We goes out in the hotel and search another in the G****e map but this time the luxurious hotel like what the woman advised to us. There are two luxurious hotel that is one hour away from us and it is the Rosewood London and Royal Lancaster London Hotel. This two are more likely a neighborhood and we decided to try to look for them there. I hope we got something. “Welcome to the Rosewood London,” greeted of the security guard as he open the door for us, “Are you two going to check in here? You don't have nothing with you and you aren't wearing a suit. Casual clothes aren't allowed here.” he added.

Somehow, we managed to make it to the airport, and after a 9-hour direct flight, we touched down in London around noon. The city greeted us with gray skies and cold wind, but my excitement kept me warm. We were driven straight to our hotel— The Knights. A seven-star palace in the heart of the city. The moment we stepped in, Eva and I froze. The hotel was a dream. Gleaming marble floors, a grand chandelier that sparkled like stardust, and golden archways that felt like they belonged in a royal palace. The fountain beneath the chandelier danced with elegance, casting reflections across the polished tiles. Staff greeted us with immaculate smiles. Every corner screamed wealth and exclusivity.