Gentleman Novels & Stories

Clara exclaim. “ Let her go!” A voice spoke from a distance, the voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it to a face, the men both stopped, I was facing the gentle man right now, as he walked towards me, His spotless fresh face was glowing, those blue almond- shaped eyes were so piercing and mesmerizing. His pink lips pouted out even with the frown on his face, he was still very handsome. He wore a grey Italian suit revealing his broad shoulder and muscular figure. “ Gentle man I advise you mind your business and walk away” Mrs. Clara spoke.

He glanced at me and smiled, “I don’t think that has ever happened.” “....” I quietly stared at him without saying anything and kept my hold on Emilio tight. He filled the glass, “No need to be vary of me. I’m a very friendly man.” He said and then picked the glass up, “I’m what people call, a gentleman.” He then showed the glass to me, “A drink?” I stared at the glass and then shook my head, “No,” I looked at him, “But thank you.”

I tried the flaterry route if all else fails pander to his ego, "You've been incredibly generous with your extentions, and as I said I would have your money tomorrow." "Generous," he scoffed, "When have I ever been associated with generosity," I was digging my own grave. Of course, a man like him would take being generous as an insult. I had completely forgotten that men like Warren Astor were a different breed, their humanity had been stripped from them the moment they were born, not just with a silver spoon in their mouth but an entire set of cutlery. "Never, you've never been sir." There was a glimmer of something dangerous in his eyes, he seemed more relaxed, the tension in his jaw had s

l said to the man that entered my office with Kathrine. “Katherine, please bring the gentleman here a glass of wine”. I said facing Katherine. “Red or white wine sir?”. I asked the gentleman. “White wine will be fine”. he answered. “White wine is it then”. I said to Katherine. “Alright, Please excuse me”. Katherine said and left. While we wait for the glass of wine Mr? I try to ask him his name “Edward”. He added Ok. I smiled. “While we wait, do you have anything in mind sir?”

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls." "Nope, just the pretty ones." He winks and shuts the door. I fasten my seatbelt, my eyes following his stride as he walks over to his side. He seems to have the confidence of a way older guy and his gray t-shirt and tight Levi's accentuate how good he must look underneath. I can tell he's got some hair on his chest, too. Most girls don't like that, but I'm a sucker for it. Damn him.

"Say that again." "Say what?" "Who's a gentleman?" "Robert, of course. Why?" Grayson looked at her with his lips pressed into a thin line. Belle said, "Don't you think he's a gentleman? He has strict moral values and is a loyal person. He's unapologetic and noble, too. Isn't that the very definition of being a gentleman?" Grayson looked at her unhappily. "What am I, then?" "What do you mean?"

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.

"And I never thought I'd ever use this word for him in my entire life, but... he's kind. In his own twisted way, he's a gentleman." The old man froze, his coffee cup suspended halfway to his lips. His eyebrows shot up toward his receding hairline, disappearing beneath the wisps of silver hair. He stared at me for a long beat, as if checking to see if I was joking or perhaps delirious. The silence stretched between us, filled with his obvious disbelief. He looked at the empty chair where Jaxx usually sat, then back at me, a look of profound, amused disbelief crossing his weathered features. "Jaxx?" he repeated, testing the word as if it might mean something dif

A faint light spilled from within, and a figure slowly stepped out. It was an elderly gentleman, his hair silver-white, dressed immaculately in a charcoal-gray suit. His collar was crisp, his posture upright, and a black ebony cane rested in his gloved hand. The lamplight cast fractured shadows across his face; despite his age, his eyes were bright—clear and steady, carrying the composure and quiet authority honed over years of service. He inclined his head slightly, speaking in a calm, resonant voice: “Miss, Sir, and General Eryx—please, follow me. The master has been expecting you.”

I was his outlet. “Mr. Archie Williams! The man of the night,” an older gentleman boomed as he walked up to us from behind. “And I truly admire how much you cherish your wife.” He said with a knowing glint in his eyes. Archie released me gently, a stark contrast to how he had just handled me, his charming facade back in place. “Mr Vincent Rhode, I am so glad you could make it.” I politely excused myself, kissing Archie on his cheeks despite how bruised my lips felt. As I moved farther away from them, their conversation became faint.