Gentleman Novels & Stories

Sir"?“ “What’s your name?” I ask again. “I thought I made it clear that you're to refer to me as 'Sir'. Don't make me remind you again, princess.You wouldn't want to get in trouble, would you?“ “No sir”,I flirt. The corners of the man's lips tick up in a smirk, his expression one of smug satisfaction at how easily i “submitted”. “Good. Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? You and I are going to get along just fine, you know.So long as you behave, anyway.“

I know this because I’m following his every movement, and I’m not even sure why. A silver Mercedes-Benz pulls up behind the SUV, and out of it alights a man, not younger than sixty, in a grey suit. The first thing I notice about the newcomer is that he’s fit for a man his age, he stands tall with the aura of a man who shouldn’t be trifled with. His salt and pepper hair and beard are well-groomed, an overall well put man. “Roman,” the man speaks, his face hardened with no life in his eyes. Christian, nonetheless, doesn’t seem to care, as if he knows his anger is greater than whatever the older man must be feeling.

“Really? No.” He pouted. “I’m not sure I know what to do with a woman who doesn’t fall at my feet.” “You act like a gentleman.” “Is that what they do nowadays? Bloody hell. I’m not a door-opening kind of guy. Unless it’s to my bedroom, of course. Then I’m as close to a gentleman as they come—if you ignore the rough bits around the edges.” He winked and handed the driver some money, telling him to keep the change.

“Ms. Grace?” A much more professional voice than I expected caught my attention. A very thin man walked in. He looked like a pipe cleaner with eyes. “Who are you?” I couldn’t help myself. “I am Sir Gerald. The family’s butler. They have requested your presence for lunch on the balacony. I am here to escort you, as so you don’t get lost.” There was a white towel hanging off his arm. The whole thing felt like something out of the movies.

“Mr. Landry, please stop. There is a crucial matter that I must discuss with you.” I stop dead in my tracks and turn to face this man, who seems to be filled with enthusiasm to catch a minute of my time. “You have one minute. Sixty seconds and not a second more.” I mutter as my gaze takes in his appearance. He's a gentleman of modest stature, in the prime of his life, with a distinguished hairline. He has a physique that resembles a bouncy castle made from doughnuts, and his suit has a charmingly worn-in look. The man's briefcase appears to have weathered the test of time, much like the lines etched on his forehead. His eyes have a certain glaze, hinting at th

"Thank you so much, sir. I’m terribly sorry if he disturbed you." The silver-haired man stood up, leaning lightly on his umbrella. He was tall—possessing an imposing, aristocratic height that commanded immediate respect. He looked at me with cool, analytical scrutiny, taking in my simple cream sweater and dark jeans. There was something hauntingly familiar about the aristocratic bridge of his nose and the sharp, calculating way his eyes swept over me, but in the casual setting of a sunlit park in Georgia, my mind drew a complete blank. "No harm done, madam," the man replied smoothly, using his shoe to tap the red ball gently toward Oliver. "Though I suggest teaching him the value of impulse

asked Delilah as she turned to look at Gerald, her smile still on her face. “Sir? Why are you referring to him as sir, Miss Delilah? We don’t even know where he got the cigarettes from! You should know that his family is so poor that they can’t even afford to eat a decent meal at times!” insulted Yura the moment he saw Delilah treating Gerald so respectfully. “Him? Poor? You must be joking, Mr. Yaleman! Ignoring the cigarettes, you should know that no ordinary person could compare to this gentleman! After all, he’s wearing classic, French, tailor-made clothes!” said Delilah as she sat right next to Gerald. “Did I get that right, sir?”

He kept his clenched fist under the table while maintaining a cool face on the surface. With his other hand, he summoned the waitress to come open the wine bottle and serve their glasses. Taking the moment to calm himself and have a rethink. After the waitress left their table, he grabbed the wine glass and gulped it down passionately. “I can see you enjoy fruit wine unlike other men Mr.Ruger” Ashley mocked with a smile. “I have to be a gentleman around a woman of grace Miss Ashley. Without you saying much, I think I understand you now. My apologies for not catching up sooner” he said.

Just a gentle smile and a gentleman’s goodbye. And I didn’t know what to make of it. I mean, I’m not some desperate girl out here begging for attention, but… have you seen the man? That build under his suit? Those quiet, confident eyes? The way he looks like he knows exactly what to do with a woman’s body?

I utter in surprise as I look at the man who is wearing a black vest and a white polo inside it. He is wearing black slacks and black shoes. A white handkerchief is in his pocket designed in a triangle. In his left arm hangs a white towel and his right fist is in his chest as he bows to me. He has long black hair maybe in his shoulder-length but is tied behind him in a ponytail, turquoise eyes, elongated nose, maybe half America half Japanese, warm beige sin color and he must be 5 ‘7 in height. “I’m sorry to startle you Milady. My name is Zyrem Whitman and I am one of your personal butlers sent by your grandfather.” He said still bowed.