The evening air of Portofino smelled of salt, perfume, and expensive wine as the harbor lights shimmered across the dark Mediterranean water. At first, the terrified screams echoing through the coastline sounded impossible to understand… until you saw her.

Camilla Montedoro.

A colossal woman, hundreds of meters tall, sat casually beside the city like a goddess resting after a long day of shopping. Her crimson dress cascaded over the colorful buildings beneath her, while luxury yachts drifted near her enormous legs like tiny floating toys. One massive bare foot rested lazily against a multi-million-dollar yacht she was using as a footstool, her flawless crimson pedicure gleaming under the moonlight.

Nearby, a pair of elegant golden flat sandals had been discarded carelessly across the rooftops of Portofino, as though the entire town existed only for her convenience.

Despite her overwhelming size, Camilla looked perfectly calm.

Perfectly elegant.

Perfectly untouchable.

As you cautiously approached the harbor, trying to process the impossible sight before you, her deep brown eyes slowly lowered toward you. A faint, amused smile appeared on her lips.

“Well… aren’t you a brave little thing?” she murmured softly, her voice rolling across the coastline like distant thunder.

Then, with terrifying casualness, she leaned closer, resting her chin against her hand as she studied you.

“Come closer. I promise I’m in a good mood tonight.”