Gentleman's Library Novels & Stories

I inform politely, my voice coming out softly since we are in a library. The old man nods and gestures with his hand for me to follow him. We do not return to the front of the library where the reception is. Instead, the man leads me to the back of the library, where several study tables and chairs are scattered, along with some armchairs and sofas facing the long windows that overlook the pack garden. As we walk, the soft sound of our footsteps on the dark wooden floor blends with the magical sound of the pages of the books that seem to whisper secrets. The man places his stack of books on a table, and I mimic his gesture, feeling the smooth, cool wood under my fingers.

He nods once and continues his walk to only heaven knows where. I’m standing in the hallway now, looking like a lost sheep with nowhere to go and nothing to do, so I decide to explore the great Roman mansion. I begin with the large double doors down the hallway on the left, which when I push it open, reveals a huge library that has seen better days. I step in, closing the door behind me with an almost silent thud.

I gently knocked, waited until a voice came from the other side before I pushed opened the door. I walked in to meet a masculine man standing, his glasses hung low with a book in his hand. The entire room was decorated with wooden shelves and each was filled up with books, which make me conclude that this is a library. “What brought you here?” He asked without even turning to look at who it is. I cleared my throat, feeling the itchiness more. “I am Inez.” I introduced although he didn’t ask for it. “I know.” He curtly responded.

He can't sleep at all and is not planning to drug himself to sleep like Renata and Alexa did. The library was thick with old mahogany and shelves full of well-worn books long held in high esteem. He traversed between the bookcases that looked like they could have reached to touch the azure ceiling. In spotting a volume, the sound of somebody’s presence startled Dionysus. There, standing tall with his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, was Gilbert Gardier. He was every inch the lord of a library, self-possessed but authoritative, standing tall in posture with the book clasped before him and his reading glasses.

"Miss Valente. He's waiting in the library." Just him? No family. No welcome party. Okay. I adjusted my shoulders and followed the butler through hallways lined with paintings and chandeliers that probably cost more than most people made in a lifetime. He opened the double doors to the library and I stepped inside. Then I stopped breathing. He stood with his back to me. Tall and broad shouldered in a black shirt rolled to the elbows and tailored pants. Dark hair. Perfect posture. He held a glass of liquor in one hand.

"I need you to add one more wolf to the exhibition's VIP guest list." "Who?" "Alder Garrison. Send the invitation to his personal phone number under Stardust's name." I wanted Alder to walk into the exhibition hall himself, not as a trophy date for Danika to show off. … On the day of the art exhibition, Crescent Gallery was packed with executives and elites from every pack enterprise. I stood behind the one-way glass on the second floor and coldly overlooked the grand exhibition hall below. Danika entered the venue with a few of Noirwood Enterprise's senior executives. Her thoughts buzzed with a frenzy of excitement.

Leon explains, “is for the Prince and his family. Only the prince, his personal guests, and his private staff are allowed beyond the library.” “Library?” “The room with all the books,” he sighs. “It’s a shame you cannot read. Can you at least spell your name?” Then he stops, his cheeks flushed, “What is your name, by the way?” “Millicent, and yes,” I say proudly. “I know how to sign and read my name.” He watches me for a moment and then nods, not saying anything more. We walk in silence for several more minutes, passing closed doors and open hallways, stopping before a stone door decorated with gold filigree that, Leon explained, had been grown rather than constructed, into the shape of vine

It never was and it wouldn't start today. It had been a long time since he lost his focus, expecting her to just grow tired of hiding and try to leave the library already. He had sensed her right from the time she had bolted into the library. It was surprising that he hadn't sensed it when she had been walking up the stairs. He always sensed her far before she even came anywhere close. Closing the book, his eyes passed over the title. 'How To Communicate Like A Gentle Man.' He was certain this book would be as useless as the book he had read for their dinner but something in him couldn't help but try.

We walk upstairs with a grand single staircase that sets a refined tone, a grand French-inspired manor. When we reached the second floor, my eyes widen as we entered the room filled with books. It looks like a library, with its richly carved bookcases, was as indiscriminately filled as the dusty shelves of a street book s and. This stately library, perpetually smelling of morocco, varnish, and new carpet, with its richly carved rosewood, plate glass, and book-backs of gilt was solely kept as one of the series of show-rooms in which Mr. Carter delighted in displaying his money's worth. I carefully sat on the white sofa while my eyes roamed around the room.

Lucien's esteemed butler inclined his head respectfully. Viscount Redington surrendered his trenchcoat to the man. "Are they here, Hennessey?" "Almost, my lord. The duke is on his way." Not all. Trust Alastair to be late for his meeting. Though he still had ten minutes to spare. Suppressing the urge to comment, Nicolas nodded and strolled to the library. He found his friends enjoying a glass of a fifty-year-old Scotch whisky. Their conversation stopped and they raised their glasses to him in a salute. He smirked. No used guessing what their topic was before he came in.