Overlord Maids Novels & Stories

Were the maids also trained like the guards? Mesmerized, I found myself getting lost in her eyes. Miles wasn't kidding when he mentioned his peculiar taste in selecting his staff. Just like the guards, these maids seemed handpicked. Instead of the usual assortment of maids with varying body sizes, they looked more like models. All were dressed in black fitted dresses that stopped below their knees, black flats, and brunette hair slicked back into a bun. They almost resembled quadruplets, with the same facial structure, slim yet curvy bodies, and tall stature. I couldn't help but think they would fare better in a modeling career than working for Miles.

he calmly stated before heading to his room. During dinner, Grandma, Mrs. Jane, Jennifer, Evan, Mr. Davis, and Camilla sat around the dining table in silence, their expressions somber. Only Grandma and Mr. Davis engaged in conversation. Mrs. Jane glared at Camilla, her gaze filled with animosity. When Aubrey approached to serve soup to Camilla, Mrs. Jane discreetly extended her foot, causing Aubrey to stumble and spill the boiling liquid onto Camilla's arm. Camilla screamed in pain, drawing everyone's attention. Mrs. Jane smiled wickedly. Aubrey, apologizing profusely, attempted to offer assistance, but Camilla pushed her away, accidentally causing Aubrey's arm to collide with a nearby chair

“Hello, hello, he said to me while Thelma was prompting me to answer him. I gave in after a few seconds of fear and doubt. Hi…uhm hello, I was stuttering. Whose is on the line please, he asked sharply. Oh sorry, it's Isabella. Your maid, Isabella. Thelma hit me for referring to myself as the maid. I don't know what she was expecting me to say. Would I have introduced myself to him as his girlfriend? Who wouldn't have his own girlfriend's number? Why doesn't he have my number all this while?

To any sensible person or living creature, the sound of the name of the Overlord was enough to give nightmares. No one dared challenge the greatest warrior both politically, physically and financially. And even otherwise! But then, I was not normal. “Where are we?” I asked the maid, who led me through a maze of winding passages. One could definitely get lost here, I mused as the maid walked on briskly without a word dropping from her lips. "We are here, Miss Hatherleigh!” The maid announced with a bow as we got to an ornately carved oak door.

The Overlord abhorred it with every fiber of his being, a fact he made known at all times—not with his words but with his actions. My eyes fell on a particularly lean maid who had joined us just a little over a week ago. She could be no older than eighteen years, but the light had already left her eyes. Like the rest of us, she was not allowed to laugh, but for her, the Overlord had made sure it was permanent. He had taken her tongue. But she had been lucky—he could have slit her throat. It wouldn’t have been the first time. He said it was to instill discipline and curb gossip, but I knew well why a narcissistic bastard like him would ensure to isolate us, even though we were all together. T

Her voice is low and quiet. She’s Amanda, 49 years old and our one and only maid, she’s been working with us for 5 years already. “Shhh... just go to Elizabeth’s room. Make sure that she doesn’t come out.” I whisper and waited for her to leave completely. My hands are shaking. I touch the doorknob. I could hear a strange noise as I listen carefully. I swallow nervously. I was surprised when I opened it and saw them both naked. A blonde young woman was on top of him...

Especially when they couldn't get what they wanted from her. The Swan family had no power to stop them for these people themselves were also from noble families. These what made Madeline enraged more. Imagining inviting her enemies in shadows in her birthday was absolutely ridiculous. Madeline heaved a sigh waiting for them to enter. When the door swung open, ten ladies of their age came in frowning. "What the h*ck? Mad, your penthouse is so hard to find!" Carol, her number one enemy and the leader of her little evil platoon, whined.

He asked in a cold voice. So, her name was Gillian. Definitely suits her attitude. Turning to me, face contorting in resentment and anger, she said in a voice laced with anger "What are you still doing here you slutty maid, go make breakfast". "Stay kitten". Damon ordered me. "She doesn't work for you, Gillian. She's mine". He said the *mine* like he meant a different thing entirely. "you have no right to order her around". Gillian gasped at that but he wasn't yet done. "Get yourself out of my house right this minute". He added in a cold voice.