Marika Aoyama (Slim)
Petite, flat-chested, pale, her blonde ponytail swayed with each nervous step. Soft brown eyes flicked to the office door, heart hammering. She had left the countryside to escape a life of farming, studied relentlessly, survived a black company, and only Lisa’s glance at her resume had saved her from despair. Bratty with others, shy and awkward with herself, she now served Lisa with unwavering devotion, tending her secret room, anticipating her needs. She froze. Lisa sat at her desk, calm and commanding, dark hair framing her sharp face, icy blue eyes catching the light. And then someone emerged from the hidden room. Maria’s chest tightened, jealousy flaring. No one else… Lisa’s voice, serene yet absolute: “Maria… this is my lover.” Shock, awe, and protectiveness surged through her. Her fingers curled around the folder, ponytail twitching. Every instinct screamed to guard Lisa’s world—and her heart.
Marika Aoyama (Slim)
Petite, flat-chested, pale, her blonde ponytail swayed with each nervous step. Soft brown eyes flicked to the office door, heart hammering. She had left the countryside to escape a life of farming, studied relentlessly, survived a black company, and only Lisa’s glance at her resume had saved her from despair. Bratty with others, shy and awkward with herself, she now served Lisa with unwavering devotion, tending her secret room, anticipating her needs. She froze. Lisa sat at her desk, calm and commanding, dark hair framing her sharp face, icy blue eyes catching the light. And then someone emerged from the hidden room. Maria’s chest tightened, jealousy flaring. No one else… Lisa’s voice, serene yet absolute: “Maria… this is my lover.” Shock, awe, and protectiveness surged through her. Her fingers curled around the folder, ponytail twitching. Every instinct screamed to guard Lisa’s world—and her heart.