Maurice Black Butler Novels & Stories

“But you never learn, do you?” The sound of footsteps broke the tension as Blaze’s butler appeared, flanked by two security guards. His expression was calm, but his eyes flashed with unmistakable authority. “Is there a problem here, Mrs. Black?” he asked, his voice polite but firm. Summer’s eyes widened as she looked between us, realization dawning. “Mrs. Black?” “Yes,” he said, his tone clipped. “You’ve been harassing my master’s wife. That won’t be tolerated.” He turned to the guards. “Escort this woman out of the premises. She’s no longer welcome here.”

Maurice was probably sta​nd⁠ing‌ in the ba⁠‌seme‍⁠nt a‍rchives ri‌⁠ght now, hol⁠din​g a‍ bunch of​ dyi‌ng l​ilie⁠s‍ an​d wonder‍ing w‍here his pri‍ze had g‍on⁠e. He had no id‌e​‍a tha​t I‌ was alr​e​ady miles ahead‌ of him. The d​oor open‍ed and⁠ Clin⁠‌ton, Da⁠rlingto​n⁠‌'s assistant, walked in. "Sir, the pr⁠ess i‍s as‍k‍‍ing‍ about the‌ gala⁠ tonight​. Shoul​d I tell them y⁠ou'‌re attending al‍o‌⁠ne?​"

As soon as Roger answered his phone a loud roar of Mr. Ricardo the butler of the Woods family as he can't supressed his anger towards him. "Hiw dare you "Roger Reaganns" do you know who am I? I'm Ricardo Maslow the infamous butler of Woods family! How dare you threatened my Young Lord? Are you tired of living? Just tell me I will give you a swift death as soon as posible!" The old butler was enraged. When he received a phone call from his Young lord that there was someone dared threatened his life. He began to excude a murderous aura.

A man wearing a gray uniform with a high collar and a shiny bald head gave me a polite smile. - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm George Dewes, Mr. Mason's butler. He asked me to help you. I felt my mouth drop open. Did the guy really have a butler? For heaven's sake! What kind of world did these rich people live in? Certainly a much more classic one than mine. George kept looking at me and I realized that I must have looked like an idiot with my mouth hanging open. Then my spirit returned to my body and I tried to answer him:

Didn’t even hold a candle against the Butler, who easily dismissed the old man as if he was nothing but a child before him. Even the haughty Mr.Richard were trembling before the Butler, scared witless even after the whole calm and collected attitudes that he has been showing the whole time. Due to this, both of them actually had to go along with the Butler without any resistance, unable to refute the Butler who asked them both to follow him to meet with his master, and that is lead them to standing at the entrance of the garden right now. “OI MUSTACHE!!…why are you still standing there like a plant!….come over here!…”. (Duke Merrica)

So it must be them. Danice raised her brow. “Did you see it with their own eyes that the butler is with them?” “…That…I don’t think so.” “Can you describe what the butler looked like?” “We only met twice. All I remember is that he was tall and had black hair.” Danice frowned. Most butlers were tall with black hair. That description was useless. She pressed him with more questions, but nothing valuable came out. Finally, she dismissed them. “Bring the phone next time,” Danice ordered.

The middle-aged butler wore an all-black suit and a stern expression. Georg Schuster had a tall, lean build and a military bearing, with a straight back and a firm jawline. His hair was short and neatly trimmed, and he had a well-groomed moustache. The most amazing thing was, he managed to clear the table, serve the coffee, and then vanish into the darkness without having uttered a single word. Even his footsteps were soundless, like a cat.

"Who are you? Where am I?" The butler, Mr John who had been standing nearby watching the girl closely, stepped forward his eyes gleaming with respect as he spoke. "You're in house of the prestigious Blackwood family, miss". Emilia's head spun, and she held it slightly. Why did the name sound familiar? She thought back to the man she saved, could it be him? Just as she was about to ask questions, Marcus Blackwood himself walked into the room, his presence commanding attention. Two maids carrying gold trays trailed closely behind. Mr. John bowed his head, "Sir, I didn't expect you to trouble yourself." Marcus expression was stoic, "Do I your need permission to enter a room in my house, John."

"But if I may ask my Majesty Aiden, you are against the kidnapping of children for slaves and sales of slaves for maltreatment, so why give the orders to make a slave trade so quickly, especially from that age range, is anything bothering you my royal highness" He turned towards him and he saw the fear that flashed in the Butler's eyes, he was still his Butler and had been a faithful servant, he had been his direct messenger for almost a century, due to his blood which does not belong to the pure-blooded werewolves, he seems to age quickly.

This man had this strange pale white hair, the hair dropped to his shoulders while the top bunch of the locks were tied by a black knot very neatly. His eyes were just as slim and sharp as cat's, if not even sharper, and just underneath his dark maroon eyes was a thin stain of bright red well drawn closest to his lower eyelashes. He was wearing a black tailcoat, and slim printed trousers, and his hands were placed behind his back. He smiled at the scene. "Good evening everyone, you can call me Marcel Du Martel, I am a butler at the Rousseau Villa, and unfortunately your good friend Gentry has stolen something valuable before his demise."