Serena:
Midnight tasted like smoke and iron.
The Twelve Gates Club was carved into the underbelly of the city like something holy and profane at once—its doors guarded by silence, its halls lined in velvet shadows and secrets. No name on the building. No address. Just the weight of blood, money, and history pressing into my bones as I stepped inside.
I handed the card to the man at the door.
No words.
Just a flick of his gloved fingers and a door opened with the whisper of something ancient.
The hallway beyond was long, crimson-lit, pulsing like a heartbeat too slow to be human.
I walked it alone.
Not because I wasn't afraid.
Because I wanted them to see me that way.
The Black Room wasn't black at all.
It was obsidian and wine and gold, everything decadent and dangerous. The wal
