Gentleman Novels & Stories

“Look, you’ve become more of a healer. I felt the approach of the old man for a long time, it always appeared like a mushroom from under a stump. And that they just can’t sit at home, like my grandfather. I sighed and turned around, putting on a polite smile. Mr. Wilson stood at a distance, his hands clasped behind his back. The usual cardigan of intricate knitting, this time in cherry color, is buttoned up, a high collar of a shirt is at the throat, dark trousers are tucked into brown ugg boots. The usual walk of a gentleman over seventy is nothing suspicious.

again. "Annalia Davis," the gentleman greeted. He boldly flaunts his wealth by donning a gray checkered tuxedo and a crimson necktie from a brand renowned for its luxury wares worldwide. When Anna's mouth curled into a charming grin, the man's smile grew wider and showed off his whiter teeth. The man was obviously ecstatic to see the well-known actress and to admire her Venusian beauty, the body of Aphrodite, exquisite dress, and jewels. The woman of his interest.

He’s really a gentleman. ***

In a good way though. " I'm truly sorry for my mistake. I would be lying if I said I didn't notice all your dolled up self. You look immaculately beautiful that I can't help but be proud of myself for having such a beautiful lady by my side. Am really a lucky man" when a man is classified as a lady's man, that would be Mansir. He knows how to play his card just damn well.

Old Chen reminded him from the doorway, a hint of heartache in his expression. William rose and walked to the French windows. The manor's silhouette in the rain was silent and vast, like an old beast crouching in the darkness. He wore a dark gray cashmere cardigan, with the collar of his white shirt slightly loose, but the cuffs neatly buttoned with platinum cufflinks engraved with the Sterling family crest. His handsome, almost sharp face appeared even colder in the reflection of the glass, his brows furrowed with weariness, and faint redness in his eyes, as if he hadn't slept for several nights.

But now, I finally saw the truth. This was just a transactional obligation to repay a debt of honor. Silently, I swapped out the dying flowers and set up fresh roses on the table. Genevieve glanced at me and thought. [Well, at least she's obedient. I suppose that's somewhat useful.] I took a seat across from her. My hand remained perfectly steady as I poured her tea, and the smile on my lips remained gentle and polite. But this time, there wasn't a single ounce of sincerity left in my actions.

We walk past a hallway, past offices with large windows, and soon we arrive at a set of mahogany double doors which Gypsy pushes open, revealing two desks at each end and another door in the middle. The lady, knocks once on the door and pushes it in, revealing a large office, a large desk, and Marciano leaning on it while he goes through something on his iPad. He's not wearing a jacket, and his sleeves are rolled all the way to his elbows. If it wasn’t for the scar running along his side, he could pass for any powerful CEO in the city. The kind people trusted. The kind people underestimated. He doesn’t lift his gaze when I enter and take a seat. But when he finally does, it’s to tell the lad

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Miranda paused and turned back, her voice soft and gentle, “Sir, do you need more thread? I can assist you.” “I’m not here for thread,” the young nobleman replied with a warm smile. His fine attire and graceful demeanor made him appear even more distinguished, a picture of elegance and refinement. “I have another matter I’d like to request your help with. Would you be able to assist me?”