ney to buy a pair of stockings, so you’re wearing things with holes in them? Sally, how do I feel when you see this?”

“Ah, that’s not it… Captain, I’ll definitely buy a new one tomorrow, so please let me go.
Well, the cleaning…”

Leon smiled and raised his hand.

Even though she was on his desk, the maid got up hastily and ran to the corner.
A woman whose face did not change even when she saw blood was turning red because of this.

“How fun.”


Sally quickly wiped the chandelier, pouring into herself all the vulgarity she knew.

Son of a b*tch.
Eat the dust

She brushed the ostrich fur on the tip of the duster against the top of Winston’s golden crown.
However, no matter how many times she rubbed, the dust did not come off.
After all, it had only been a few days since she cleaned the chandelier.

In the end, she had no choice but to finish quickly and go down.
Her timid retaliation was abandoned, and she turned her back as she rubbed the front of the chandelier.

“That’s right.”

A muffled murmur passed over her calves wrapped in thin stockings.

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As she turned around, Sally could hear a creaking sound.

Looking down, Winston pretended not to have done anything and was leaning far away from the back of his chair.
The cigar in his hand seemed to have been burned, not smoked, so a lump of grayish ash was hanging from the end of the short cigar.

“No, I’m talking to myself.”


The maid smiled politely.
However, the moment she turned her head, her turquoise eyes cried out.

‘I hate you.’

Leon smiled obliquely as he brushed his cigar into the ashtray.


This evening, sitting face to face with the Grand Princess, his imagination was correct.

Sally’s bloomers were white.

Now that he had checked the color of her underwear, it was natural that he wanted to check the color inside.
Was it the same color as his imagination…?

He wanted to put his hand inside that black skirt and white underskirt and rip open the dense seam in the middle of the bloomer at once.
Leon bit his smooth lower lip with the tip of his tongue and abruptly chewed it with his sharp teeth.

He wondered if a man had ever seen it?

He rubbed the tip of the cigar into the ashtray and put it out, as if hitting it in the eyes of a man whom he didn’t even know existed.

“It’s done, Captain.
Then, I will clean the carpet.”

Pretending to clean the chandelier was almost over.
Sally crept down under the desk before Winston scolded her.

Dirty horny.

It was disgusting to hold her hand as if he was a gentleman when he was just spying under her skirt.

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It was fortunate that Winston didn’t bother her anymore.
Sally knelt down on the carpet and started wiping away the black stains.
She was engrossed in the thought of cleaning it up and leaving.
When she came to her senses, quite a bit of time had passed.

Meanwhile, Winston was as though he had evaporated.

There was no sound of him flipping through papers, nor of lighting a lighter.
She confirmed with occasional deep breaths that the other person, unfortunately, had not evaporated.

Since the ink did not dry out because he had just spilled it, it was not difficult to erase it.
The spot where it was stained was a little darker than the other places, but she’ll just let it go.

Sally raised her body, unwrapped her crumpled skirt, and turned behind to face Winston.
He was gazing at her with his hand lightly clenched against his slanted chin.
Was he no longer smoking cigars? His right hand was under the desk and was not visible.

What was so interesting to see an ordinary maid routinely wiping carpet stains? The corners of his lips curled up slightly.

Where did his usual sharpness go? A strangely soft, sticky gaze fell from Sally’s face into her hands, which were carefully clasped together.

Did he take a drink? Though there was no water, let alone alcohol, on the desk.

“It’s all done.
Do you need anything more?”

Winston nodded his head lightly.

So, was there something to be done or not…?

Sally tilted her head slightly, and her gaze turned to the ashtray under his chin.
An ashtray made of black marble lay in the ashes of a high-quality cigar that Winston had wasted a while ago.

‘I can go out with the excuse of emptying the ashtray.’

Thinking that, she walked over to Winston with a light foot and picked up the ashtray.

However, she hardened like stone.

It was because his hand, covered in thick tendons and veins, had slid slowly under the desk.
The copper-colored object he held in his hand also had tendons and veins that stood out smoothly.



The ashtray slid from Sally’s hand and fell to the edge of the desk.

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