Vincent Black Butler Novels & Stories

A smooth, deep voice spoke from just behind me, “You're quite right, Miss. You could be a sommelier.” I instinctively turn to the voice. My eyes lock with his. Wow! The man before me, dressed in a fine black suit, has a head full of silky hair that's blacker than a starless night. His dark tendrils frame his pale, chiseled face, with plump pink lips, to boot. His eyes are bluer than any ocean that I have seen. I wish I could see him without the mask. He's a God among men, and way out of my league. Hell, he's not even in the same sport! He says, “Pardon my manners. I am Vincent Black.”

“Well, I saw you get into his car, so I checked the license number plate!” Ruth’s expression instantly turned cold. “He has a good position at Grand Empire, and he has a close relationship with Mr. Blakewell’s assistant! His investment failed, though, so he ended up losing tens of millions of dollars! Here’s a friendly reminder. Keep an eye on your wallet and don’t let him con you!” Seeing Ruth’s eyes grow more and more frightening, Vincent could no longer conceal his guilt; he stuffed the ice bag into her hands and quickly escaped.

I cannot sum up the strength to ask any questions so I remain silent admidst the quiet rumble of the plane's engines and his thoughtful gaze. In that moment, I make another vow. I will be back. And I will kill that Russian Enforcer with my bare hands. I will wreck havoc on all he held dear. I feel my soul shed its colour.I feel it become blacker as the plane gains altitude.I feel it harden like steel, until I have to fist my hands over my chest to dull the ache. My name is Luca Blackstone going forth. And God so help anyone with negative affiliations with the Russian mafia that crosses my path. Death is a small mercy they would always beg for.

the king inquires. “I am Gianni, Your Majesty,” Gianni presents himself with a full bow. “How did you know my affliction, Gianni? I can see that you are a butler in the palace.” “I was able to finish medical school before becoming a butler, Your Majesty. I was the academy’s second place.” “You are? Then, why are you serving as a butler? You can help people with your medical knowledge?” “I am indebted to Prince Julien, Your Majesty. And I swear to serve him as his butler until the end of time.”

Ready to dive in. “I'm sure he must be on his way, relax. Killian isn't a child…..” Mom asserted, chuckling kinda awkwardly as she urged him on. Finally Mr Vincent gave in and pulled a chair opposite me, beside Caleb, directly facing me. “Here,” mom dished out the butler's plate and placed it before him. Mr Vincent gaped at the food, scrutinizing it like some food judge ready to give his rating on the food. “Looks decent…..”

I sat on the same sofa as Balthazar while Alex remained standing beside his desk. 'Where is Dante? I thought he would welcome me ... " asked Balthazar while crossing his legs. "Don't tell me he's avoiding me right now." To be honest, I was also thinking the same thing. It seems Vincent is hiding from Balthazar. "Ah, Vincent just returned from his Enforcer duties a few hours ago so he's resting at home" Evelyn replied. Balthazar turned to him with his skeptical gaze. "Ha ... He's resting at home ... "

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?"

Vincent listened with the kind of focused attention I'd rarely seen from him, asking questions, genuinely engaging with his grandson. They spent twenty minutes in Lucas's room while I stood in the kitchen trying to process what was happening. Vincent Blackwood, the cold, ruthless businessman who'd pushed me to my breaking point, was sitting on my son's floor helping him organize video games and promising to come back to see the painted shelves. When Lucas finally got distracted with setting up his new game console, Vincent came back to the living room. His eyes were red-rimmed, his composure cracked in ways I'd never witnessed.

“I am Vincent Moreau, and it might interest you to know that Wesley Black is plotting against you. In fifteen minutes, they will be kidnapping your wife.” His first reaction was a choke on his drink. Second, a cough. Third, a long bout of laughter.

Vincent closed his eyes as he moved his neck and nuzzled his nape with his hand which became numb from what he had done to lift Vladimir. "Which car?" he asked. "The black one." "I'll be there in ten," Kingston said after Vincent ended off the call. Vincent walked through a wet, slippery tile floor on his way out of the building. No source of light was evident, and the place was silent. The only thing that could be heard was every drop of water on the floor and every heavy step that Vincent took. His impulsive self is telling him to go straight to Santiago's place and take his revenge for what the old man had done to Vladimir but his conscious mind is reminding him to take a deep breath and