Sold to Mr. Mafia
I made a mental note to close the window as soon as I opened my eyes, but instead, I met a strange lady in front of my bed.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
Huh, not one but four! They were dressed in maid uniforms.
“Well, I guess all the maidens are back, and my punishment is over,” I said, standing from the bed and hugging each of them one after the other.
“Where is Maiden Linda?” I questioned, eager to jump on her.
“Who’s Maiden Linda, ma’am?” they asked with a surprised look on their faces.
“A petite lady who worked here.”
“We don’t know who worked here, ma’am. We aren’t maidens but stylists of different forms.”
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