Onyx Club In Philadelphia Novels & Stories

THE CLUB POV: Nikolai Scott's club was called Meridian. It did not advertise. It did not have a sign outside, just a black door on a narrow street in the oldest part of Sky Shade City with a brass handle worn smooth from decades of the right hands pulling it. The kind of place that existed in the negative space of the city's social life. Everyone who needed to know about it knew. Everyone else walked past it every day without seeing it.

Portland was not a terrible city, but cities were cities. Too many bodies, too many voices, and most times they all wanted to speak to him. His schedule was always full, and people always had opinions on what he should do. It didn’t make it easier that he ran the most successful shipping company in the city. Caden had learned to manage things. As a leader, his life meant managing discomforts, including this party. He stood at the upper rail of Onyx. The club had no sign outside, and yet it had a three-month waitlist. People tried to befriend him for invites, but every time he visited the club, he looked down at the crowd from his suite with indifference.

I had learned that Lucifer was a fallen angel turned demon, why was this club named after him? A very angry looking man stood at the entrance of the club door, staring at me. "ID ma'am." "She's with me, Rodney," Hannah said. "Oh, I'm sorry, Hannah. I didn't know you had brought a friend." This time his angry expression dissipated into a smile. I was relieved. "Is Phoenix at the club tonight?" "I'm not sure, ma'am. I didn't see him. I saw Mr. Lockhart accompany his friend though." Hannah giggled. "Which one of the Lockhart's, Rodney? There are a bunch of them."

"Yartford is the political center of the country, so certain things have to be done discreetly there. But Aleshire's different. Tonight, you'll see real entertainment." Felix was not particularly interested, but he had time to kill. "The Nightowl is Aleshire's finest club. No one dares claim second place." Inside, hostesses with curvy legs lined the entrance. "Mr. Zimmerman! It's been too long!" A youthful-looking older woman approached. Her light makeup showed how confident she was about her appearance rather than courage. "Ah, Calista! Still stunning as ever." George did not hold back as he grabbed her bottom.

Minus Forcing myself to compartmentalize my emotions surrounding Cricket and my chance to be with her alone tomorrow night, I followed Clutch to our destination. We pulled up to the Nine Ball just after ten o’ clock and the place was already looking pretty lively. Bikes, low riders, and vintage custom trucks filled the parking lot. The Saints, The Apex Predators, and the older clubs in town still held sway, but according to Clutch, Los Psychos, the area’s newest club, had recently gained in numbers significantly, and all but taken over this, and several other spots.

She muttered something under her breath and disappeared into my office. At six that evening, I sat in a cafe on the corner and watched the access notifications on my phone. Clara and Julian had arrived at the Raven Club. The club occupied an unsigned brownstone squeezed between two luxury stores on Fifth Avenue. People who didn’t know better walked past and assumed it was a closed gallery. People who did know better understood that behind the black brass door sat investment-bank partners, family offices, retired senators, widows with terrifying trusts, and several old families who had cleaned their money so thoroughly nobody polite mentioned the dirt anymore.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Mommy misspoke." I tousled my daughter's hair, gazing into her green eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Harrison's POV In the dead of night, when the entire city was engulfed in slumber, the most luxurious club in the city, Good Nights, was alive with excitement. At this moment, the men from the most renowned families had gathered under dim lights, holding glasses of alcohol, swaying to the music. The person at the center of attention was none other than Peter Rufus. Tonight was his bachelor party, celebrating his last moments of single life.

Cattleya’s POV "What do you mean? What about this club? Do you know this club?" I showed him the flyer. He sighed and said, "Yes, Jaxon Moretti owns this nightclub. It's a nightclub catering to the most exclusive clientele, and when I say elite, what I mean are affluent, well-connected people." I gasped softly and sat in the chair while thinking about what just happened to my sweet twin sister. “Do you think Ariella….”

The drivers arrived in two SUVs, the girls all loaded up into one SUV, and Chase and Tyler rode with us in another SUV. *** Ophelia When we got to the club, Damian walked over to me and grabbed my hand pulling me behind him. We walked up to the bouncer that was standing at the door, he lifted the rope and we walked right in. The club was dark with multicolored lights that danced with the beat of the music. We made our way upstairs to the VIP section which had a balcony that overlooked the dancefloor. A waitress came by and Noah ordered a few bottles of Dom Perignon and a bottle of whiskey.

We were two predators occupying the same territory, bound only by the woman currently asleep in a VIP pavilion. Yet, curiosity is a dangerous thing. Antonio had looked like a man unraveling in that parking lot, chasing the ghost of Allison. If what he wanted to say had anything to do with the storm currently brewing, I needed to hear it first. *** The Onyx Lounge was an ultra-exclusive, underground establishment in Manhattan—the kind of place where memberships were inherited and business was conducted in whispered, untraceable deals. When I arrived, the entire venue was empty, save for a few bartenders who looked like they had been ordered to keep their eyes on the floor. Antonio had obvious