A Gentleman In Moscow Novels & Stories

I looked up at the sky and could see stars through the light pollution. As if reading my thoughts, an elderly gentleman came outside just moments after me, holding a cigar between his teeth. He spoke with a soft accent, "It's rather chilly tonight, is it not?" I turned around, looking him over. "It most certainly is." He was of Asian descent, with long grey hair and a beard that matched, yet he was youthful looking for his age. His eyes were as black as night, and glimmered with the confidence of a man who knew how to wield power. He was wearing a suit similar to mine, with the same expensive sheen to it. There were golden rings on his fingers that suggested wealth.

" None of this is funny. You can't torture men just because I went on a date with them. He didn't even know I was someone's wife." " So you rescued him? " He scoffed and stared at me with disappointment in his eyes. He could be disappointed all he wanted. Mark was safe and that was all that mattered. " Yes. You're so heartless. This is a human life we are talking about. " I tried to reason with him but the look on his face told me he wasn't there with me. " He knew exactly who you were. He is a Russian mob spy. They're closing in on our territory. They want to take over from us. "

’ with his crisp black suit, straight posture, smug smile and sharp eyes, Agatha knows that he is someone of very high power, probably way more than Gustav himself, considering the look of distaste in his face. “Mr Russo. It’s been a long time.” Jongil says, offering a sturdy hand for shaking. Gustav glances at the hand before straightening his back as well, a smug look appearing on his face as well. “It is indeed. I hope you have been doing well.” “Oh I have!” Says Jongil with mock excitement as the handshake comes to an end. Cameron looks from one man to another with excitement, glad that two of his friends are getting along.

Such a gentleman, note the sarcasm. “In the mood to be a gentleman I see” I said taking my hand from his, I knew that Nikolay was listening on the conversation by now, he and the two men, Harry and Vladimir were now quiet as they listened to what the man was saying. “I am always a gentleman around you Kiara, you and I both know that” Richard winked at me, I rolled my eyes as he walked behind me and pulled my chair back for me to sit, I raised an eyebrow at him looking at him over my shoulder before sitting down, making sure that my dress wasn’t wrinkled, thank you Maddie for saving my bum with the dress, I had called her on the last minute to send it for me, knowing that it was the one of th

After the double wooden door, there was a front desk and behind it, a very smiley gentleman. He was tall, thin, white hair and complexion, and a large wooden pipe that smelled like vanilla and fine tobacco. "Good evening, my friends. What can I do for you today?" The gentleman started with a small courtesy reverence, taking the pipe out of his mouth for a second, and then returning it. "My name is Gill, and I will be your host for tonight." Belle was pretty used to a wealthy life, but she was not used to the architecture with central gardens, like Moroccan or Islamic architecture.

“Owner of the property identified.” The gates opened. Sam finished the sentence. “Zelenchuck Ruslan.” One of the richest energy tycoons in Eastern Europe. The doors of the mansion opened. Ruslan walked out to greet us. Tall. Gray beard. Eyes sharp as steel. He shook my hand firmly. “So.” “You are John.” I nodded. “And you are Ruslan.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve heard interesting things about you.” We walked inside. Massive oil maps covered the walls.

''Pedro Morgan, you're here already, sorry to have taken too long, I was busy inside. The Russian business man, who had walked out of the huge mahogany doors, spoke with a vibrant smile on his face. He stretched out his hand for a handshake, and Pedro shook him briefly. He was tall, broad, and moved slowly, like a man who knew he owned every room he entered. His suit was dark and expensive. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp and restless. His gaze went to her immediately and stayed there far longer than was comfortable. Jasmine felt it at once—the heavy, uncomfortable attention that made her skin crawl. She kept her face neutral, pretending to read something on her tablet, but inside

“You’re a long way from home, Visconti,” Jaxon says, his voice smooth but unmistakably hostile. His fingers flex on my thighs, parting them wider as he grips hard, a deliberate move because of the man at the table’s head whose gaze washes over me like honey on skin. “Most find the climate in Moscow harsh and the streets hostile. In truth, I had hoped you might get mugged to death in the streets, but it’s not too late, I assume.”

I replied as leaned back. A mutual understanding was created as we conversed and it made me realize how much I had missed a man who knew how to pamper a woman. “Did you tell Azzaro you’d be here?” Gerald asked as I shook my head. “He said he had to see a friend.” I replied. “Why do you ask?” Gerald pointed as I looked back and blinked in shock when I saw Konstantin and a tall stranger approaching our table. “You must be Ebony, you’re far more beautiful in person.” The stranger said with a jolly Russian accent as he stretched his hand to shake me.

I closed my mouth and sensed she was standing on the other side of the door with her ear to the wood, waiting for me to go away. When I knocked again, a thump sounded, followed by her shrieking in Russian, the words too muffled for me to pick apart. The door opened once more, and this time, a thin gentleman in a black dress coat appeared. He was shaking his head and muttering to his wife, clearly believing she’d fallen off her rocker for good. She hid behind him, her apron grasped in her hands. When his gaze found me, he froze like he’d just seen a ghost. I forced a smile. “Zdravstvuyte—” Hello.