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.
Theo’s arm was firm beneath my hand as we stepped past the entrance. The subtle scent of leather and some dark spice followed him, grounding me in the dizzying sea of silk dresses and tailored suits.
The chatter didn’t stop when we
