icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

The Secret Butler: Capturing The Heartless Billionaire

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 433    |    Released on: 22/01/2026

nside. The room

was back on the table. A set of expensive le

nklin stood b

s wearing a fresh, crisp white shirt, tucked into dark

, radiating power and wealth. But the eyes

. The words left her mouth before she coul

replied smoothly. He

now, just a slight hesitation in his stride. He

ext to him. His ruined sui

up and toss

ught it r

ordered. "And

was a whisper, i

t to her chest. It was he

Sandalwood

m. She dismissed it again, more forcefully this time. A

e man in Vienna had been a shadow, bearded and rough. Thi

He was gauging her. He saw the f

ided t

me Cel

"I can't, sir. It'

ocol here," he

. It triggered a shiver

," she bre

miliar on her tong

ed, predatory smile. "Good.

servant. But the air between them was electric. He treated he

or the bottle of scotch. She realized, with a sinking feeling, that s

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
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.”