Maurice Black Butler Novels & Stories

Forgus Baker said with a disgusted face. "Who's looking for me?" Cadell Marcus glanced at him and said. At this time, from the other side of the car came a middle-aged man, who looked to be less than fifty years old, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, walked up to Cadell Marcus, and spoke very politely. "It's Captain Cadell Marcus Marcus. I'm the butler Eugene Vincent. You call me Old Henry. It's our house. Eugene Vincent let me invite you over." Cadell Marcus had already guessed who it was, but he still said it on purpose. "Which Eugene Vincent? I don't seem to know what Eugene Vincent is. Can't someone invite me over so I'll just leave?"

The maid, with a tilt of her head and a softening of her eyes, replied, "No, mademoiselle, this is very much the waking world." "But how? How am I here?" My voice was a whisper of confusion. Her lips parted, then closed, a silent admission of her own ignorance. "I cannot provide those answers, mademoiselle. Perhaps the Head Butler can shed light upon your queries. Shall I permit his entrance?" With a hesitant nod, I signaled my agreement. The maid turned, her skirts whispering against the floor, and opened the door, exchanging a few hushed words in fluent French. An elderly butler, his posture impeccable in his crisp, black dress suit, entered with a dignified grace. "My deepest apologies fo

"Sarah, why don't you go say ur byes byes and pick up your belongings. Don't let us delay this fine gentleman. No?" Sarah nodded in response, leaving them behind. A few minutes passed, yet Sarah was yet to come out "Sorry to ask, who are you to the Ragon family?" Linda asked, trying to break the awkward silence. "A Butler." James replied. Linda was surprised. A Butler wasn't really important nowadays, but yet the fact that a Butler was sent to pick Sarah up meant two things. Either Sarah wasn't of much importance to them, or the Butler was some kind of high post within the Ragon family.

We gathered to the center of the field, everyone's weapons and masks dissolved with every step. "That was fun," said the arnis dude lunging at his companions. "Allow us to introduce ourselves," interrupted the guy in a butler uniform. "I am Hugo, Lady Maura's personal butler." Butler? I never thought you can be a butler at a young age. He looked like he was in his mid-20's. "This is Pietro, Lady Maura's personal driver," he gestured to the arnis dude who stuck out his tongue and did a rockstar pose. "This is Ruby, Lady Maura's personal maid," he turned to the lady archer with bangs who bowed for us. "And this is Erika, the house chef," the swordsman err... swordswoman? stepped forward and ga

Without a word, he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the upper floor. Cynthia blinked. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment settled inside her chest. Moments later, another man approached. He appeared to be in his late fifties, dressed in a dark suit. "Miss Hart." His voice was polite. Cynthia turned toward him. "My name is William Foster. I am the butler of Blackwood Estate." She offered a small smile. "Nice to meet you." "Please follow me." The butler picked up her small bag and led her toward a grand staircase. As they walked, Cynthia couldn't help noticing how enormous the mansion was.

the head maid began timidly. "DO IT!" Mrs. Leontis snapped, her voice echoing up the grand staircase. Before the poor girl could scurry off, the house’s main butler, an elderly man with silver hair and a gentle posture named Reginald, appeared at the landing. He descended the stairs as quickly as his old legs would allow, smoothing the front of his immaculate black jacket.

The entire décor is immaculate and polished, including the miles of black-and-sand-colored marble covering the floors and steps. We’re greeted by a butler in black tails and gloves, who offers me a glass of champagne, which I’m in desperate need of. Only, I have to put extraordinary effort into keeping my hand from shaking so violently, for fear of sloshing the expensive bubbly over the sides. I take a couple quick sips to minimize this possibility. “I shall show you to your suite,” the butler announces in his haughty tone. This is where Micah abandons me. He kisses me on the cheek, whispers, “Good luck,” then disappears out the double doors that have a pair of attendants to open and close t

“No! I need to speak with him, butler, call him back! Call Alexander back!” The butler who had lost his patience brought out something from his side pocket and pressed on a red button. “Since you won't respect yourself, then I also won't respect you!” He said, then looked at Vivienne coldly as he spat his next words, “You’re not the madam of the mountain villa, don't be delusional! Our madam is sitting right here…” He bowed towards the silent Lauren who watched everything like she was watching a movie drama. Lauren was startled when all attention shifted back to her. She raised an eyebrow at the butler’s words. She won't deny that she felt satisfied with his words and actions.

Gina said, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “I don’t know much about that,” Mia admitted. “Maurice didn’t even want it at first. Dad had to convince him.” Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. The air shifted. Both women turned as Maurice entered, tall, sharp in his tailored suit, every line of him composed and commanding. The faint scent of his cologne followed him like confidence itself. Behind him trailed Martin, clutching a briefcase and wearing an expression that said he was already five steps behind.

I turn around so fast, open my eyes just to see group of men clad in black and white on glasses. "Mr. Blake, you have been called back at home. It's time to fulfill your duty. Please come with us." One of them steps forward, just his aura, I know he is who the elites and noblemen refer to as butler. I can tell they are misplacing me with another person. "I am not whom you think I am." I stare at them, anger bridling inside me. "Mr. Blake,we have been keeping tabs on you, you are exactly who we think you are , please come with us." The first guy which I am still sizing up in my head as the butler tries to reassure me.