Rina

Rina

I reached the guest room and knocked.

"Come in."

I pushed the door and got in. Signore Amato was standing.

"You sent for me."

"Yes. I really want to apologize earlier. I'm sorry I was clumsy. I should have looked before opening the door." He spoke with the same foreign accent as the girl.

"It's okay, sir. I wasn't hurt."

"Oh, thank the moon goddess." I didn't get any other response from him. So, I looked up—and there he was staring at that part of me I had begun to hate. My ugly, ugly, very disgusting chest. Yes, just as Piccolo Maestro called it.

I shut my eyes and took a while to gather myself together. I didn't want to believe I'd gotten another creep to worry about.

"Sir, is there anything I can help you with?" With still no reply from him, I snapped my eyes open. This time, a tight furrow ran across my brow. "Sir, what can I help you with?" It was quite a job keeping a calm tone.

"Hm?" He looked at me as though I'd said the unthinkable.

"You requested my presence,