Zoldyck Butler Novels & Stories

Seeing butler Fotune, Violet asked: - Butler Fotune, I'm done cleaning. Now, what do I need to do next? Fotune walked into the kitchen and she was amazed at the cleanliness of the kitchen, so clean that the kitchen surfaces were shiny, and the utensils were scrubbed clean. The whole kitchen seemed to glow. But the butler Fotune also kept that surprise in her heart, but on the outside, she was still very calm, she took out a tangerine watch from her pocket and said:

I hope he can handle the wait until I'm back to normal. I thought of going downstairs to make some juice. But I didn't see Zenia in the kitchen. I found only two helpers. And that was the new assistant that Joseph hired to help Zenia. Zenia is the butler of the Hacienda. I went out to look for Zenia, and found her in front of the house watering. Zenia is a butler, but she is not used to being stupid and just giving orders to other colleagues. I was really impressed with Zenia, I noticed that she was not looking at the plant, but she was staring into the distance. That's why I followed his gaze and saw Joseph talking to a woman. It's shapely and very sexy to wear. Cleavage is visible, she has

“We were just talking about Rowan.” Lydia froze mid-bite. Her father, Mr. Zander, looked up from his steak. “Who’s Rowan?” “The owner of A&B Company. King’s Cosmetics.” Mr. Zander raised an eyebrow. “Impressive. What about him?” Mrs. Zander beamed. “I’m thinking of setting him up with Lydia.” Lydia choked on her drink, coughing violently. Mrs. Zander handed her a napkin. “Careful, dear.”

An hour later, Zac arrived at Violet Grove. The butler, upon seeing him, greeted him with a smile and ushered him inside. "Mr. Zac, you're here? Please come in," he said. Zac remained aloof, nodding curtly in acknowledgment of the butler's greeting. Knowing his reclusive nature, the butler paid no mind to his cold demeanor and led him upstairs. As they walked, he remarked, "I heard a few days ago that Mr. Ford was poisoned and you helped remedy the situation. We're truly grateful to you."

What does the butler have to do with me? "It has everything to do with you! I asked Addison to kidnapper you and had the butler get you out of Ocean City, but Nathaniel found out about it. He actually tied the butler to the speedboat and dragged him around in the ocean for a useless person like you. The butler is more than 50 years old. How can he bear all of this? It's all because of you! You put the butler's life in danger, and he's almost dead. Do you know how many years he's been with me? Even Nathan and Nick hadn't been by my side as long as he has. He's like my family, and Nathaniel treated him like that just because of a woman like you. He wouldn't let the butler go no matter how I be

“Miss Evelyn,” Zayn's butler came to get her. She was still in the garden and only realized then, that it was nightfall already. That was how immersed she was in her thoughts. “I think you should go in now, dinner would be served soon, you refused to have anything for lunch,” he told. “Don't worry, I'll take part in dinner.” She needed to speak with Zayn after all, “Is Zayn back?” “No, master Zayn is not back yet. But I'm sure he'd be home soon to join you for dinner,” the butler smiled at her. She returned the smile, he really had a warm presence. He was an omega Lycan.

"My ears are incredibly sorry. My watch did not receive a single order from the masters regarding an outside healer. Your boots shall not cross this stone line." The butler's defensive reaction is completely within Yandel's expectation. He already knew that zero wolves inside the Watsons house carried a good spirit, as every single one of them wanted Max to rot so they could grab the throne. However, my hidden fur is waiting in the brush for him to cause a scene. Wasting no time, his long arm swings out like a flash and throws a massive, heavy punch straight onto the butler’s nose. Smack! The butler lets out a painful wail, his paws covering his leaking face. "Why did your fists hit my guard

An older, notoriously arrogant man named Alistair Vance, stepped forward. Alistair was legendary in the Manhattan elite circles for his rigid, uncompromising commitment to traditional, old-money luxury. He wore an eccentric velvet blazer and held a digital stylus like a weapon, his expressions dripping with a subtle, condescending superiority as he looked at Lydia. To Alistair, Lydia was simply another wealthy, young trophy wife of a Wall Street titan—a woman who had likely married into money and was now playing dress-up with an architectural budget she didn't truly understand.