Midnight At The Barclay Hotel Novels & Stories

his voice was low and calm this time around, so he could earn her pity. " Where am I meeting you father ?" Chloe asked resignedly , there was no way she was winning against this man ! " Come to ' Midnight ' " " Midnight? Why the hell am I meeting you at midnight of all places in the city ?" She asked, alarmed. Of course she knew Midnight. It was a popular bar in the outskirts of the city , known for the scandalous activities that go on there . It's like a den for thieves and armed robbers and other men that do evil men where they hide from the eyes of the law .

I took a deep breath, and said, “What do you want?” He laughed loudly on the phone, and said, “Meet me at the midnight Oasis just like I said earlier, and don't keep me waiting.” I dashed out of the room immediately, took the car key, and headed downstairs. I made my way down to the Midnight Oasis, it's a bar known for its dimly lit ambiance. As I entered the bar, I scanned the whole area for the stranger, but I couldn't see him. I sat down, and decided to wait for him.

"I can agree to any condition you name. Of course, if you try to play games with me, whether your parents can enjoy their old age depends on you." Patrick's eyes were vicious. "You're truly despicable." "A man must be ruthless to survive," Barclay said without further ado. "I hope you've made up your mind by the time I return." Before leaving the secret room, he looked at the person standing nearby. "Watch him. I'll be back." "Yes, Director," the man replied in a low voice, stepping into the secret room. Barclay checked the time, changed his clothes, and got into the car, heading to the banquet venue.

The things we did for friendship. The ride was about fifteen minutes. I reached two minutes after them, just in time to watch them step into the elevator. Corny-ass Mike. I felt a bit relieved that she was safe at least. It was past midnight, and the hotel was quiet. My eyes drifted to the bar around the corner. I could really use a drink. I booked a room quickly and sat by the counter. “Coke, please,” I ordered, and the bartender poured it. An exhausted yawn escaped me, and I noticed the man sipping his drink beside me.

“Markle and Tanya.” “What?!” Rachel laughed. “Goody two shoes Markle and Tanya?” “The one and only.” “They were even worse than me as kids. Is the club any good or are we going to sing hymns all night?” “I will let you decide,” Mabel answered with a mysterious smile. “If we are going there we should probably start getting ready because believe it or not The Night’s bar – that’s what they call it – is actually the hottest place to be right now.”

**Ethan’s POV** I sat in the shadowed corner of the hotel bar, staring at the untouched coffee that had long gone cold. The grand lobby of The St. Regis New York buzzed with its usual quiet elegance — guests in tailored suits checking in, soft laughter echoing off marble floors, crystal chandeliers casting warm light over everything. But none of it registered. My eyes stayed fixed on the entrance, waiting for any sign of Clara or the man the investigator had mentioned.

My heart was shattered, but if I was going to face Alpha Delton, I needed to look unbreakable. I called Bryan. “Take me to the Midnight Bar.” He paused. “Are you sure?” “I have to do this.” Five minutes later, Bryan pulled up. The drive was silent, tension hanging between us. The Midnight Bar oozed power—expensive suits, dominant auras, wolves who wore their status like a second skin. I stepped in, my eyes scanning the room. Before I could get far, a man blocked my path. His lear was predatory, his hand latching onto my wrist.

-Damian- I tip my tumbler up and drain the Scotch from it in one long gulp, letting the liquid burn its way down my chest. Despite having spent the last four years frequenting Outer Heaven, I still didn't understand what in the world possessed Adam Barclay to open this place up. He was not living in New York. He didn't even visit it. Yet, the club made him rich. It made him filthy rich. Bastard. Somehow, the place that reeked of sweat, puke and, alcohol is the it spot for those who were twenty-one years old and up.

Sofia The Midnight Lounge was Moonveil’s crown jewel—a place whispered about in glossy magazines and exclusive circles, but never openly advertised. A single black door stood on an unmarked street, guarded by a man in a sharp suit whose gaze assessed everything in a second flat. Once inside, the world shifted. Amber light spilled across polished marble, the ceilings lost in a haze of gold and shadow. The air hummed with low jazz and quiet power. Conversations were soft but deliberate, a hundred little games being played under the cover of music and laughter.

“Get your coat.” The place he chose was called Verre Noir — a members’ bar on the forty-second floor of a Crown District tower, black glass and low lighting, the kind of place where the criminal infrastructure of New Eidolon came to conduct business in suits. Eirwen had been here once before, early, when she was still learning what she’d walked into. She’d felt like a visitor then. She didn’t feel like a visitor now.