Mated at midnight
I whispered.
We stopped at a red light. My gaze caught on a billboard the size of a building. It shimmered, transitioned—and suddenly, the word blazed across the screen in white fire:
LUNARIS.
A high-end nightclub. The most elite. The kind only the rich, powerful, and probably criminal could enter. Even back downtown, Lunaris was a fantasy, the kind of place people dreamed of making enough money just to glimpse.
The ad shifted. And then his face appeared.