SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Chapter 420: Truth Revealed

When Mika finally pulled the body pillow out, he froze.

For a moment, he just stared at it, his brain struggling to process what he was seeing.

Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across his face—wider and wider, until it became a full-blown, mischievous grin.

Because this time, the body pillow didn’t have his face on it.

It had Charlotte’s.

There she was, smiling warmly, looking friendly and approachable—the perfect image of a loving little sister.

Mika slowly turned his head toward Astrid.

She was still covering her face, her cheeks burning crimson, looking away as if she could somehow escape this moment entirely.

Her biggest secret had just been exposed.

And Mika was going to enjoy every second of this.

"What’s this, Astrid?"

He leaned closer, his voice dripping with playful mockery.

"What’s going on here?"

She didn’t respond.

He held the pillow up, examining it.

"Didn’t you tell me that you don’t like your sisters? Didn’t you just say—not even an hour ago—that they were your rivals? Your enemies? That you would fight to the end of the world with them over me?"

He tsked mockingly.

"You even said spending time with them was exhausting. That they were basically the worst."

He looked back at the pillow, then at her, then back at the pillow.

"So why, Astrid, do you have a body pillow of Charlotte? Why does she have a place in your precious collection?"

Astrid’s face somehow got even redder.

"Come on, don’t hide. Tell me." He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. "Tell me why you have something like this in your possession."

Astrid squirmed, her mouth opening and closing uselessly.

"I—I—that—um—"

Before she could form a coherent sentence, Mika’s eyes lit up with a new idea.

"Hold on. Is there’s only one of them? Let me check if there are more."

He reached into the pouch again.

Astrid lunged for him. "MIKA, NO—"

Too late.

His hand emerged with not one, but three more body pillows.

Anya. And two of their other sisters.

All of them, smiling warmly, looking for all the world like beloved family members.

Mika laid them out in a row, then turned back to Astrid with the most infuriatingly smug expression she had ever seen.

"So it’s not just Charlotte. It’s Anya too. And the others."

He picked up Charlotte’s pillow again, waving it gently.

"You really must hate them so much. So, so much. That’s why you have body pillows of all of them, right?"

His voice was pure sarcastic honey.

"Tell me, Astrid. Give me a reason. I’m waiting. Don’t try to hide—I want to hear your explanation."

He leaned so close that their noses were almost touching.

Astrid was trapped.

Cornered.

Completely out of options.

And in her desperation, her mouth opened and the first thing that came out was,

"It’s...It’s to beat them up!"

The words burst out of her like a dam breaking.

"To do what?" Mika asked in dismay.

"T-To beat them up, Mika! That’s what it’s for!"

She grabbed onto the excuse with desperate energy, building on it as she went.

"Whenever I get angry or frustrated about something, I need to vent!"

"But I can’t actually go fight my sisters in real life—you’d be mad at me, and it would cause all sorts of problems! So I created these!"

She gestured at the pillows proudly, as if she had just presented a flawless argument.

"I use them to let out my frustration! I punch them and fight them and take out all my anger on them"

"That’s why I have them! It’s completely reasonable!"

Mika stared at her with a suspicious gaze.

"Oh, really?" His voice was flat. Disbelieving. "Is that really so?"

"Of course! Why else would I have something like this?"

Astrid nodded vigorously, her confidence growing.

"Do you really think I care about my sisters? They’re my rivals! My enemies! I told you that already, and nothing is going to change that!"

Mika nodded slowly, pretending to consider her words.

"I see. I see. That might be true."

Astrid practically glowed with relief.

She had done it.

She had gotten away with it.

But then Mika reached into the pouch again.

Her relief evaporated instantly.

He pulled out more pillows—several of them this time—and laid them out before her with a flourish.

"And what do you have to say about these?"

Astrid’s eyes went wide with horror.

Because these pillows weren’t of her sisters as they were now.

These were of her sisters as children.

Tiny, adorable, chubby-cheeked versions of Charlotte and Anya and the others, with big sparkly eyes and innocent smiles and all the cuteness of baby siblings.

Mika held one up right in front of her face.

"Come on, Astrid. Tell me. Are you trying to fight these little kids too? Are you going to punch these adorable babies?"

Astrid wanted to say it.

She wanted to say that yes, she would definitely punch them.

That she could absolutely beat those little faces into the ground if she wanted to.

That her hatred for her sisters was real and unwavering.

But then she met the eyes of the tiny Anya pillow.

Those big, round glasses. That small, earnest face.

The way even as a child, Anya had looked at her with such trust, such adoration, such complete belief that her big sister could do anything.

And Astrid’s heart crumbled.

She couldn’t lie about this.

She couldn’t pretend.

Not when faced with that image.

And as if adding fuel to the fire, Mika noticed something else.

"There’s a button here." He murmured, examining the side of one pillow. "And some kind of wiring inside..."

He pressed it.

Before Astrid could react, a voice emerged from the pillow.

A child’s voice.

Charlotte’s voice, from years ago, high-pitched and sweet.

"Big sister Astrid! I love you! I love you so much!"

The pillow glowed softly as the recording played.

Mika’s eyebrows shot up and he pressed another button on the other pillow.

Anya’s voice this time, equally young and adorable.

"Big sis, help me out! I don’t know how to do this! You have to help me because you’re the best big sister in the world!"

He pressed more buttons.

The other two sisters’ voices joined in, each one expressing love, asking for help, calling out for their big sister.

Mika stared at the pillows in wonder.

Then he looked at Astrid.

A slow, evil grin spread across his face.

He then gathered all four pillows—the tiny versions of Charlotte, Anya, and the others—and shoved them directly in front of Astrid’s face, completely blocking her vision.

"Now come on, Astrid! Tell me! Tell me that you want to punch them!"

He pressed the buttons again, making the pillows repeat their messages.

"Tell me you hate them while they’re telling you they love you!"

"Tell me you want to beat them up while they’re calling you the best big sister in the world!"

He pressed the buttons over and over.

"Big sister Astrid, I love you!"

"Help me tie my hair, big sister!"

"You’re the best big sister ever!"

"Come play with us!"

Mika leaned in, his voice a mix of triumph and teasing.

"Come on! Tell me! Is this really what you do with these? Do you punch them while they say these things? Is that the kind of person you are, Astrid?"

The assault was too much.

Visual. Auditory. Emotional.

Surrounded by the voices of her sisters, their childhood love echoing in her ears, with Mika’s relentless questions pressing from all sides—

Astrid finally broke.

"FINE! FINE!"

She threw her hands up in surrender, breathing heavily, panting from the emotional onslaught.

"FINE! I’ll tell you the truth!"

Mika leaned back slightly, still holding the pillows, but waiting patiently.

Astrid heaved, trying to catch her breath. Her face was flushed, her eyes wet, her entire body trembling with the effort of exposing the most vulnerable part of herself.

Finally, in a small, shy, intimate voice, she admitted,

"The truth is...my sisters...I..."

She swallowed hard.

"I don’t actually hate them. I don’t think of them as rivals."

The words felt like pulling teeth.

"I...I actually miss them."

Tears welled in her eyes.

"It’s been so long since I could be there for them as a sister. Since we could just...be together. Without all the walls and politics and distance."

She gestured weakly at the pillows.

"So just like I made pillows of you to fill that gap...I made pillows of them too. I talk to them sometimes. Pretend they’re really here..."

"...Pretend we’re together again."

She looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

"I know it’s pathetic. I know it’s sad. But it’s the truth."

For a moment, silence hung between them.

She thought that Mika would offer some words of compassion or give her a hug, seeing how lonely she was.

But instead—

"I KNEW IT!"

Mika’s voice exploded with triumph.

"I FREAKING KNEW IT!"

Astrid’s head snapped up, confusion replacing her tears.

"What?"

Mika was practically bouncing with excitement.

"I knew it from the very beginning! I knew you loved your sisters!"

He pointed at her like he had won the world cup.

"I was already wondering how you were coping with your loneliness. You said you’d distanced yourself from them, but I know you, Astrid!

"I know how much you love being a big sister. I know how much that role means to you."

"And I couldn’t believe you’d just...give that up."

He gestured around the office.

"Even when I came in here, I saw all the mementos. All those little reminders of our family scattered everywhere."

He pointed at each one as he spoke.

"And I thought to myself—there’s no way she’s actually let them go. There’s no way she’s made enemies out of the people she loves most."

"She’s just scared. Scared to show it. Scared to be vulnerable."

Astrid’s blush deepened impossibly further.

"I was wondering how I was supposed to prove it to you. How I was supposed to make you admit it. Because I knew you’d deny it—you’d say there’s no way it’s true, that you hate them, that they mean nothing to you."

"But now?"

He looked down at her, absolutely glowing with satisfaction.

"Now I have all the evidence I need. And it happened exactly like I thought."

He reached out and gently pinched her cheek.

"You truly do love your sisters, Astrid. You never gave up on them from the very beginning. You’ve just been too scared to show them."

"Isn’t that right, Astrid? Isn’t that right?"

Astrid’s face was absolutely burning now—a shade of red so deep it seemed almost supernatural.

She wanted to deny it. She wanted to wipe that insufferably smug look off his face.

But she couldn’t.

Because everything had been exposed.

Every hidden feeling.

Every buried truth.

Every vulnerable corner of her heart that she had tried so hard to protect.

There was nothing left to hide.