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The Secret Butler: Capturing The Heartless Billionaire

Chapter 4 No.4

Word Count: 582    |    Released on: 22/01/2026

t of the main security cameras. She reached into a stack of folded towels on the bottom shelf. Her hand brushed over the crisp linen, he

senior butlers, was standing there holding a silver coffee pot. He had a kin

d, putting a hand to her

me up to prep the coffee station. You look a litt

wn at her shoes.

ant to... vent. Maybe grab a drink after our

was normal. He wanted a normal life, a normal girlfrien

softly. "I have a second job

to hide his disappointment. "Right.

the carpet. Betsey watched him go, feeling the isola

he approached the double doors of the Presidential Suite. She ke

dows offered a panoramic view of Central Park, the trees a riot of au

the mini-bar, counting the bottles.

eck the drapes. As she passed the

A breeze fluttered the sheer curtains. That was a secu

it. As she reached for th

hite wool carpet, was a

hed it with her gloved fing

h bl

The hair on the back of her n

scanning the room. She noted the heavy velvet drapes, the shadow b

ystal vase from the side table. It was

rd creaked

de instantly. Her knees bent, her center of

nged from the shadows o

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The Secret Butler: Capturing The Heartless Billionaire
The Secret Butler: Capturing The Heartless Billionaire
“I spent a year hiding my lethal skills behind the stiff polyester uniform of a hotel butler. To the world, I'm just Betsey Madden, a "charity case" scrubbing floors at The Elysium to solve the mystery of my mother's suspicious death. On the anniversary of her passing, my manager decided to humiliate me by assigning me to the Penthouse to serve Celestino Franklin, a billionaire known as the "Butcher of Wall Street" who supposedly eats staff for breakfast. When I stepped into the suite, I found the pristine white carpet stained with fresh blood and a wounded man lunging at me from the shadows. I didn't scream; I instinctively dropped into a combat stance I hadn't used since my days as a shadow operative in Vienna, pinning the billionaire before he could even blink. I had to choose between letting him bleed out or revealing that I was far more than a girl who folds napkins for minimum wage. I chose to save him, stitching his gunshot wound with a surgical precision that no ordinary servant should ever possess. As he gripped my wrist, the air turned cold. He didn't smell like a typical CEO; he carried the sharp scent of sandalwood and expensive scotch-the exact, intoxicating aroma of the man from the nightmares I've had since the night my mother died. "You have good hands," he rasped, his storm-gray eyes seeing right through my pale foundation and fake exhaustion. "You're wasting them on silver polish." I realized then that my cover wasn't just blown; it was the bait that had finally caught the monster I was looking for. I came to this hotel to find a killer, but I never expected my prime suspect to be the man now demanding I become his personal shadow. The hunt for the truth just turned into a deadly dance with a predator who knows exactly who I am, and I'm not leaving until I find out if he's my savior or my mother's murderer.”