Surviving As An Obsessive Servant Novels & Stories

She lowered her head and said, "Sorry Miss, you were asked to come down for breakfast with Sir. I've been waiting for you to wake up." My mouth opened and formed the number 0, why was the servant so obedient like this, different from Anthony's servant who would act like a servant in general? There's no need to be surprised actually, because he is a cruel man. He will torture his servants if they do not comply with his wishes. I say that because he can also slap me hard without apologizing. I stood up and took the clothes from her. She left, and my eyes turned to the end of the door where 2 armed men were standing there with their backs to the door, oh my! Every second I feel like my life is

"Ohh... I have no idea. What is wrong with them? I don't know what or why they are doing that shit." I observed them closely but the whole situation was just getting scarier. I needed to know what was going on. I was really confused at this point. We cautiously walked up to the servants, who were frozen in place. They fixed their eyes straight ahead as though they were in a trance, showing no sign of recognition or reaction.

Lucia knew that she had to find a way to confront her own insecurities and the looming presence of the new servant girl. I emerged from the imposing fortress. Servants scurried about, tending to the gardens, cleaning, and attending to various chores. Soldiers, trained vigorously under the relentless sun, their sweat-soaked bodies glistening as they displayed their skills. As I strolled through the courtyard, my thoughts were consumed by a singular vision—Amelia. Her beauty had struck me like a thunderbolt, a rare thing that had left me captivated. Though she was just a servant, her image had taken residence in my mind, a relentless obsession for her.

I stood, walking slowly around him, my heels echoing softly. “I have a task for you,” I said, my voice calm. “One that requires discretion.” He was listening. “Have you ever worked as a servant?” I asked suddenly. He frowned slightly. “No.” “You will,” I said simply. I stopped in front of him, my gaze sharp. “You will enter Luciano’s estate,” I said. “Not as a spy. Not as an assassin. But as a servant.” His eyes flickered, trying to understand. “You will observe,” I continued. “You will learn the layout, the routines, the weaknesses.”

Tessa knew that she had to find a way to confront her own insecurities and the looming presence of the new servant girl. I emerged from the imposing fortress. Servants scurried about, tending to the gardens, cleaning, and attending to various chores. Soldiers, trained vigorously under the relentless sun, their sweat-soaked bodies glistening as they displayed their skills. As I strolled through the courtyard, my thoughts were consumed by a singular vision—Fiona. Her beauty had struck me like a thunderbolt, a rare thing that had left me captivated. Though she was just a servant, her image had taken residence in my mind, a relentless obsession for her.

I whispered, taking a sip out of my tea. "Fuck," she whispered back. "How filthy?" "Super filthy." She snickered. "Why do I feel like that doesn't explain it?" "He was very..." I paused. "Domineering. He turned me into a bitch in heat. He made me answer to him, Dee. A lot. I'm not the obeying sort, you know that. But with him? It was like all of my independence turned to dust." Dee whistled. "Damn. And you have no idea what his name is." She muttered wistfully.

Adrien Cross stared at the mess of glass on the office floor, the scotch bleeding into the cracks like it wanted to sink all the way down. It looked like broken promises, nothing else. His hand clenched around the phone, the message stamped on him like a brand: Sleep well, Adrien. I’m watching. Lucian Vega’s voice in his head was taunting, too sharp, too smug. Someone had tried to end him tonight. And worse, someone close was feeding him out like scraps.

I slipped in quietly, set my notebook on my desk, and tried very hard to look like I had been there for a while and was definitely not just now returning from lunch. *"I'm back,"* I said. *"I can see that."* Still facing the window. Okay. Mood: hostile. I sat down and opened my notebook. Looked busy. This was a survival skill I had developed over approximately the first three weeks of working for him and had refined into an art form since. He turned eventually. Eyes narrowed. *"You took your time."* *"One to two is my break,"* I said. *"So I wasn't at my desk. That's how break time works."*

The name moved through the cellar until Otsana Blackmoon looked less like a shadow heir and more like a woman being surrounded by ghosts she had saved. (Otsana Blackmoon POV) Every servant’s memory struck me harder than any blade, because I had survived by believing my mercy had stayed invisible enough to die. Adolphus had taught me that kindness was a weakness enemies could smell beneath skin, so I buried every soft choice under cruelty. I saved servants quickly, angrily, and with enough insults afterward to make sure they hated me enough to forget gratitude. Yet they remembered. That was the worst part. They remembered the bread, the passwords, the burned marks, the broken cups, and the gi

Apparently she was not able to notice that the unhappy man was still breathing. "He's not dead, he's still alive to haunt us," I corrected after picking up my knife. "We have to get out of here." Saying that I leaned on Paola and she helped me out of the house. The sun received us with all its splendor and I was able to thank heaven for staying alive, I sat on the main staircase and Paola ran to ask her neighbors for help. In a few seconds I was surrounded by strangers who put us both safe in a nearby house, everyone looked terrified when they heard our story and no one had the courage to look out to see the culprit. The patrol cars and the ambulance did not take long to arrive and the polic