Chapter Four
Aurora's POV
The Blackstone Club loomed ahead of me like a fortress, its sleek glass reflecting the dim glow of the city lights. My heart pounded as I approached the building. The sidewalk buzzed with the hurried footsteps of Midtown's elite, and every instinct screamed at me to turn back. But I couldn't. This was my chance to prove myself, and I wasn't about to let it slip away.
I adjusted my coat and slipped through the revolving doors. The lobby was as opulent as I'd expected—polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and a sense of exclusivity that made my palms sweat. A receptionist stood behind a mahogany desk, her sharp gaze darting to me as I entered.
"Good evening, ma'am. Do you have an appointment?"
I forced a confident smile. "I'm here to see Lucas Gray."
The receptionist's expression didn't waver. "Mr. Gray doesn't take walk-ins. Do you have a membership or a referral?"
"I'm a journalist," I said, leaning in slightly. "I just need a moment of his time."
Her lips thinned into a polite but firm smile. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Mr. Gray is very busy."
Plan A: Failed.
"Thanks anyway," I said, stepping away from the desk. My mind raced as I moved toward the lounge area, where a few patrons sipped drinks and murmured in hushed tones. I needed to think fast.
I spotted a man in a tailored suit heading toward the elevators. He looked like the kind of person who belonged here—confident, composed, and oblivious to the idea of being questioned, he also looked kind of familiar but I brushed it off. Without overthinking, I slipped in behind him, keeping my head down as he swiped his access card and the elevator doors slid open.
The man didn't notice me as I stepped inside and pressed a random floor. He got off a few levels below, leaving me alone.
The moment the doors closed, I let out a shaky breath. "Now or never, Thompson," I whispered.
When the elevator stopped, I stepped into a dimly lit corridor lined with heavy wooden doors. Voices and faint laughter echoed from one of the rooms, but I didn't linger. My target was Lucas Gray, and I didn't have time to waste.
I turned a corner and nearly collided with someone—a tall man with sharp features and a commanding presence that made me take an involuntary step back. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine.
"Lost, are we?" he said, his voice low and smooth.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. Something about him felt… dangerous.
"I—"
He cut me off, his gaze narrowing. "You don't belong here. Who let you in?"
"I'm looking for Lucas Gray," I said quickly, trying to regain my composure. "It's important."
His lips curved into a faint smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Lucas Gray doesn't meet with just anyone. And you don't look like a member."
"I'm a journalist," I said, straightening my posture. "Aurora Thompson. I need to speak with him about—"
"About the man found in the alley this morning?" he interrupted, his tone laced with amusement.
I blinked, stunned. "How did you—"
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You're not the only one who knows how to dig for information, Miss Thompson. But let me give you a piece of advice: you're playing a very dangerous game."
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
The smirk widened, and he extended a hand. "Julian Blackstone."
My breath hitched. Julian Blackstone. The man who I was investigating and was later caught by his, name was practically synonymous with power in this city. He wasn't just a member of the Blackstone Club—he was its namesake, the man who controlled it all.
"I—" I hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"You're bold, I'll give you that," he said, retracting his hand when I didn't take it. "But boldness won't get you far in my world. So, tell me, Miss Thompson, why are you so interested in the club?"
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "A man was found dead this morning. I believe he's connected to the Blackstone Club. If there's something bigger going on, the public deserves to know."
Julian's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Curiosity?
"You're either very brave or very foolish," he said after a moment. "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"
"I'm not afraid," I said, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
He chuckled softly, the sound unnervingly calm. "Fear isn't the problem, Miss Thompson. Ignorance is."
I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I'm not ignorant. I know this club isn't just a social gathering. People like you don't gather for cocktails and small talk. There's more to it, and I'm going to find out what."
Julian's smirk faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look. He stepped closer, and I resisted the urge to step back.
"You're determined," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I admire that. But determination can get you killed in this world."
A chill ran down my spine, but I refused to back down. "Is that a threat?"
"Not at all," he said, his tone lightening as he stepped back. "Consider it a warning."
Before I could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor. Julian glanced over his shoulder, then back at me.
"If you're smart, you'll walk away from this story," he said, his voice low. "But if you insist on sticking your nose where it doesn't belong…" He paused a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "I suggest you start by asking the right questions."
"What questions?" I asked, but he was already turning away.
"Good night, Miss Thompson," he said over his shoulder, disappearing down the hallway.
I stood frozen for a moment, my heart racing. Julian Blackstone was right—I was playing with fire. But his warning only fueled my determination.
I wasn't going to walk away. Not now.
I pulled out my phone and typed a quick message to Janet:
Met Julian Blackstone. He knows more than he's letting on. This story just got a lot bigger.
As I slipped back into the elevator, my mind raced with questions. Who was the man in the alley? What was the Blackstone Club hiding? And, most importantly, why did Julian Blackstone seem so invested in keeping me away from the truth?
One thing was certain: I was in way over my head. But there was no turning back now.