Zoldyck Butler Novels & Stories

With an evil grin, he said, “Well, well. You’ve caught my eye. I’ll be bringing you home later.” Alex gave him the side-eye. His eyes were as cold as the North Pole. Waltz, however, giggled and responded, “You didn’t catch my eyes, though. You’re far too ugly.” “You…” Baldy fumed and grabbed the coffin cover with both hands, using his inner core’s strength of the Advanced Royal fighter that he was. “Up we go!” With a loud explosion, the long nails around the rim of the coffin ripped out instantly. As Baldy lifted the coffin cover, the Rockefellers let out a deep sigh of relief, smiling gratefully.

Frederick calmly handed a bundle of cash to him, and asked again, "Are you sure?" The bartender's expression changed instantly, and his attitude made a 180-degree turn. "Ahem! Actually, I think I remember her." Frederick pulled out another two bundles of cash. "Tell me everything." "Her name’s Zoey York. She's a streetwalker who often solicits here," the bartender blurted out. "She's been to our boss's room several times. I'd recognize her anywhere!" He paused abruptly, staring expectantly at Frederick. Frederick produced a check. "This one's for a hundred thousand."

I utter in surprise as I look at the man who is wearing a black vest and a white polo inside it. He is wearing black slacks and black shoes. A white handkerchief is in his pocket designed in a triangle. In his left arm hangs a white towel and his right fist is in his chest as he bows to me. He has long black hair maybe in his shoulder-length but is tied behind him in a ponytail, turquoise eyes, elongated nose, maybe half America half Japanese, warm beige sin color and he must be 5 ‘7 in height. “I’m sorry to startle you Milady. My name is Zyrem Whitman and I am one of your personal butlers sent by your grandfather.” He said still bowed.

An Hour Before The Universe Will Spilled The Beans Two men walked side by side with their auras sharpened, indicating their alertness and readiness for anything untoward. One of these men was clothed fully in white, with a few snakes of lightning dancing around him. This man had green eyes and a handsome appearance. For his face was without blemish or fault. The other man was clothed strangely. For he wore a butler’s suit complete with a small bowtie and had a kind smile on his face. This man had a dignified air around him, and though he looked middle aged, he was a man capable of turning a few heads. The aura of elegance around him was much greater than the other man’s, and his gentlemanly

“So now I have turned into the stranger in this house, haven't I?” The butler's face flushed in embarrassment as he stuttered on his words. “N-No sir, that's not…” “Will you just let me in? Even my spare time is precious,” Zack spat, cutting him off, his voice low and menacing, sending a chill down the butler's spine. His expression transformed from indifference to caution. “I can't let you in without informing Mr. Albert. So, I am so sorry, sir.”

Who are you? "DUKE ZEL, it is time to cast the spell of awakening to the princess." Gukasho, a millennium-old goblin and the butler of Grand Duke Beelzebub the Glutton, warily disturbed the great green-eyed demon. The latter was invested in staring at the lonely figure dancing on a rink.

Looking at the pink suitcase that Zayne had given him, Zivon couldn’t help but raise a slight brow as he replied, “Pink? Really?” “Trust me, you’ll love it… Try not to thank me too much in the future,” said Zayne with a chuckle. “Someone’s confident.” “For sure,” replied Zayne with an impish grin. Walking over to the two men, Dolly then said, “I, for one, think that Young Master Burton will like my gift more. Want to make a bet to see who’s right?” “A bet, eh? I’m down for that!” replied the confident Zayne.

Why was Amanda so unpredictable? That cold smile, hiding a knife behind it, made her feel intimidated. Lydia, feeling aggrieved, lowered her head and said, “Madam, I want the Old Master to live a long life. How could I ruin his birthday celebration?” “Heh… That’s easy to say!” An old, stern voice suddenly interrupted. Everyone froze and looked toward the entrance, where the old butler was helping the Old Master into the room. The Old Master was wearing a dark purple Tang suit. Although he was elderly, his back was straight, showing no signs of aging. His severe gaze was fixed on Lydia.

“Louisa, this isn’t nice. James made a reservation yesterday.” “Who cares? This is my place and I call the shots.” Zion was angry, but he kept his mouth shut. He looked at James apologetically. James clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll wait then.” Just then, a luxurious car drove up. It was a Bentley worth billions. Behind the Bentley was a small truck. A middle-aged man exited the Bentley. He was the butler of the Dawns, Luther.

A pair of polished black shoes stretched out first, followed by long, slender legs leading to a tall, commanding figure—a middle-aged man whose aura radiated nothing but power. Zeno Luther. His sharp features were accentuated by his black retro suit, which fit his built frame perfectly. Zeno reached for his black shades, removing them and handing them over to one of his men. His sharp brown eyes locked onto the building ahead, and with measured steps, he advanced. The grand doors swung open, and Zeno was greeted first by the butler, who seemed momentarily stunned by his presence. The household staff immediately bowed in respect, but he ignored them all.