Midnight At The Barclay Hotel Novels & Stories

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.

“There’s a hotel downtown, on Sixth. The Halden. The bar off the lobby. Three o’clock.” “I’ll be there.” I hung up. I wrote the address on the legal pad and tore the page off. The Halden bar was a long, low room with leather banquettes the color of weak tea, a baby grand that nobody was playing, a bartender at the far end working on a tower of rocks glasses with a cloth. She was in a booth near the back in the blue coat. A glass of white wine sat in front of her, untouched, condensation ringing the base.

“Shove your love in your ass.” Derek scoffed. “Sexy mother fucker,” he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it. --- It was exactly 8 p.m. when they made their way down to the bar and pool club, a tucked away gem nestled in the corner of the hotel like a hidden oasis. Colored lights shimmered across the surface of the water, casting reflections that danced like fireflies. Overhead, a blend of soft jazz and mellow synth pop filled the air, giving the place an almost dreamlike rhythm.

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.

"Where am I taking you?" "Barbara Hotel," I replied. I and Max had decided to meet at Barbara Hotel for the party his friend was hosting. It had been planned for weeks, and I was not about to let Ethan steal that too. I needed something normal. I needed an afternoon that had nothing to do with him. "Okay, noted," the driver said. The drive to Barbara Hotel was long. I stared out the window the whole way, watching the streets blur past, trying to let my mind go quiet. By the time the car slowed and the hotel came into view, I had almost convinced myself I was free for the afternoon.

Ruby's pov The address Logan had scribbled down led me to an exclusive high-rise downtown. The entrance didn’t have a sign, just a heavy black door and a security guard who nodded me through the moment I showed him the paper. My heart was pounding, and my core was still throbbing from the quickie on the oval desk. Carl was probably drunk out of his mind at some bar, completely useless as a boyfriend. I was tired of being lonely. I was tired of being sex-deprived. I wanted this.

An officer entered the office, it was close to midnight, many of the guards would begin their rounds from King Cross to streets bordering the Thames, in the last nights, these men were accompanied by guard dogs, but always the man was more As smart as they were, some women left them alive but severely face marks, when questioning those women, they did not remember the face, since it was always covered with a ski-mountaineer to cover themselves from the cold of the London fog. Detective Macmillan, sir, we have made our rounds, the streets are in complete calm, only a fight of drunks who were leaving the brothel, they were not taken to jail since they both belong to the crown guard- the watchm

She has read that book too? Midnight was a character from one of his first books. The book was about a young man, who because of being possessed by demons, would go on a killing spree every midnight, the sight and scent of the blood being the only salvation from the mental and physical pain these demons brought him. That fucker was a total psycho. Jake felt wronged. Why should she call him that? Does Ryder think of him as a psycho? Yet, upon noticing Ryder beaming proudly like a little child, he didn't have the heart to refuse. "Why not."