Vincent Black Butler Novels & Stories

“Someone trying to help you.” Cold dread settled slowly in my chest. Because I already recognized the voice. Vincent Moretti. Lucas noticed my expression changing immediately. “What happened?” I held up one hand silently. Vincent continued speaking calmly. “Damien Blackwell is dangerous when he wants something.” My grip tightened around the phone. “What do you want?” “The same thing you do.” I almost laughed. “I highly doubt that.” “No?” Vincent sounded amused. “Then perhaps you enjoy watching another man fall in love with your fiancée.”

“You live here? In this huge mansion?” “Yes,” Vincent said simply. He didn’t even sound like he was bragging—just stating a fact. “I am also a family member of the Blacks.” Linda’s jaw slackened further. She shook her head, muttering, “Wow. That’s… wow.” She glanced back at him, her words tumbling out before she could catch them. “I thought you were just the hot butler guy.” The instant she said it, her eyes widened in horror. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it too late.

“Ah, Lucas. The golden son. It’s good to finally meet you. I’m sure your father has told you all about me.” Lucas’s gaze darkened. “Who are you?” “Vincent Keller,” he replied smoothly. “A former associate of your father’s. Let’s just say he cut me out of a deal years ago, and I’ve spent decades rebuilding what he nearly destroyed. Now, I’m ready to settle the score.” Lucas stepped closer, his tone low and dangerous. “If you’re threatening my wife, my family, or this company, you’ll regret it.” Vincent raised his hands in mock surrender. “No threats, Mr. Vanderbilt. Just business. I suggest you and your wife prepare yourselves, though. What’s coming next won’t be so easy to bury.”

That miserable excuse for a father, laughing, drinking, and playing cards like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he hadn’t just lost his daughter because of his own greed. Vincent’s blood boiled. “Bianchi. I want that bastard down! Set him up and get back all the fucking money we gave him. Do it now!” Vincent ordered, his voice sharp and commanding. Without hesitation, Bianchi nodded and got to work. He brought in two of their best players and sent them to the table. Vincent watched from the upper level, a smirk creeping onto his face when he saw the bastard’s expression change from surprise to pure greed.

Vincent Sinclair. The name was spoken with both reverence and caution in Manhattan's elite circles. He was a titan in tailored threads. "Mr. Sinclair," murmured his assistant, Julian Hart, stepping forward with a slight bow as he opened the car door. Vincent gave a brief nod, unbuttoned his jacket with one hand, and slid into the Bentley's rear seat. Julian rounded the front and slipped behind the wheel. "Apologies, sir. I didn’t expect your grandfather to fly in this morning. I would have adjusted your schedule."

"You said that you'll have only one question but you are asking too much. However, I'll answer you. Wayne pack, Holmes pack, Hendrix pack, I am not afraid fighting against any of them, Mr. ELDER.” ‘What the…’ Brett cursed inwardly. ‘What the hell they were talking about that Vincent did not hesitate to announce that he will fight us head on?’ At the same time, Maxine and Adams came back. Vincent glanced at Maxine and pulled a smile on his lips. Then, he walked passed by Lanceil. The wind from Vincent blew wind of Lanceil’s gray hair. Vincent walked swiftly towards the lady in black dress. Maxine looked at the man scintillating beneath the lights.

After saying this, Vincent thought that he could put Caeser off. After all, they shared some history. He had even illustrated her plight in detail. But Caeser was still insistent. “I can wait for her to finish resting before coming back here for her. She helped me last time, Mr. Windsor. I definitely need to return the favor to her. Otherwise, what kind of person have I become?” “Do you know where your nephew Blake is?” Vincent did not reply to Caeser but instead asked him back about Blake’s hereabouts.

This further made them consider adoption, and fortunately, they saw Vincent as a sweet boy and decided to adopt him, saving him from the molestations from the orphanage’s home caretaker. Vincent took his seat beside Elora, who placed a gentle hand on his arm. He didn't respond, his body stiffening. He's unsure how to react. The new butler, tall and imposing, poured wine into Vincent's glass. "Shall I serve dinner, sir?" he asked, his voice deep and formal. Reginald nodded. "Yes, Jenkins. Let's begin." As Jenkins served the first course, Vincent's mind wandered to Dimitri. He pushed the thoughts away, deciding to focus on the conversation. He knew his heart is a betrayer and he wasn't even su

The mention of Vincent's torn piece of clothing contradicted my thoughts. Gosh! My head is so messed up right now. I no longer know what to believe. "My Queen, lunch is set," the butler said, smiling like a dummy. The mullet-headed monkey! He's so blind to read the atmosphere around him. Vincent's mother stays silent. She ignores the butler. To her, the butler does not exist.

Mr White asked him expectantly but Vincent sighed. “I am sorry, Sir but I am the senior, I won’t bow to her.” He replied politely, accepting to do anything but not extend the hand of friendship to her. “Neither will I!” She shouted from her side as well. “You guys. Just don’t ruin the peace.” Mr White sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and walked away. “What the hell, Vincent? Who told you to target Victoria?” Dan scolded his friend. “I cannot breathe properly until I see that witch’s face. I love ruining my days, making her burn satisfies me.”