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

Chapter 421: I Know You Like The Back Of My Hand

Astrid was already embarrassed beyond belief.

She had not expected Mika to sit there, calmly holding pieces of her private heart in his hands, and start fitting them together like he had known the shape of them all along.

Still, she refused to just sit there and accept it.

If she did that, then what would she even look like?

A hypocrite. A woman who said one thing and did another.

Someone who claimed her sisters meant nothing to her while secretly filling her office with proof that the opposite was true.

That was exactly how it would seem right now, and Astrid could not bear that.

She needed to explain herself. She needed to prove that there had been logic to it, some dignity in it, some form of consistency, however fragile.

But unfortunately for her, Mika was already ahead of her.

He looked at her with that insufferably thoughtful expression, one hand rubbing his chin as if he were considering a puzzle he had nearly solved.

Then, after a moment, he spoke in a tone so calm that it instantly made her more nervous.

"Let me guess, Astrid."

She stiffened.

"In the beginning, after everything that happened back then, you probably really did think you were going to cut yourself off from them."

He tilted his head a little, studying her face.

"Not just from your sisters, but from that whole part of your life. You probably told yourself you’d become independent. A lone wolf."

"Someone who didn’t need anyone."

Astrid’s lips parted, but nothing came out.

"And for a while, it probably worked. Or at least it looked like it worked."

Mika kept going, voice steady, almost gentle in the way one is gentle when revealing a truth that hurts.

"You convinced yourself you were doing fine on your own. That you didn’t need company, didn’t need warmth, didn’t need laughter or someone knocking on your door or tugging on your sleeve."

"You built your routines, your work, your authority, and for years you survived inside all that."

Then his gaze softened, though there was still that annoyingly knowing smile at the corner of his mouth.

"But eventually you realized that wasn’t enough."

Astrid looked away.

"Because humans are social creatures..." He went on. "...and even the ones who pretend otherwise still need connection. And you..."

He reached over and lightly tapped her forehead with one finger.

"You were never built to be alone in the first place."

She immediately swatted his hand away, but weakly.

"You’re probably the most sociable out of all your sisters."

Mika continued, as if she hadn’t reacted at all.

"You’re the type who drags people around wherever you go and insists on following them wherever they go. You always want someone around."

Astrid’s face grew even redder.

"So for someone like you..."

He said quietly like he figured out the truth of the universe.

"...trying to live for years while pretending you didn’t want any of them anymore, that must have eaten away at you."

That landed.

It landed hard enough that Astrid’s eyes flickered downward.

Mika noticed, of course.

"Not to mention that you kept seeing them." He added quickly.

"You are family after all, it’s impossible to avoid them. And every time you did, I’m sure there were a hundred little things you wanted to ask."

"How they were doing. What they were up to. Whether they ate properly. Whether they were still doing that strange thing they used to do as kids."

"What new nonsense they’d gotten into. You probably wanted to ask all sorts of pointless questions."

He smiled faintly.

"But you couldn’t, could you?"

Astrid said nothing.

"You couldn’t smile with them. Couldn’t joke with them. Couldn’t just sit there and talk nonsense with them the way you used to. Because once you decided to become this version of yourself, you trapped yourself inside it."

"And even though a part of you still wanted that relationship back, you couldn’t reach for it anymore."

He shook his head.

"You had too much pride. Too much fear. Too much of that stupid wall of yours."

Now she really looked away as he went on to say,

"So eventually, when suppressing it stopped working, you made substitutes."

Her fingers tightened against her own sleeve.

"You built little replacements for the connection you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for. That’s what these are, aren’t they?"

He lifted Charlotte’s pillow slightly.

"They’re stand-ins. You made versions of your sisters—older ones, younger ones, all sorts of them—so you could still talk to them. Still do things with them. Still say all the things you wanted to say, just without the risk of being rejected or seen."

He chuckled as he added,

"I’m willing to bet you even went rock hunting with this."

"Just like you used to do with Charlotte when you were little. You probably put this pillow on your tail and pretended she was really there, walking beside you."

Astrid’s face showed pure shock.

"How did you—"

He held up a finger to her lips.

"Let me finish."

She fell silent, stunned, while he picked up Anya’s pillow.

"And this one. Tea parties. You definitely had tea parties with this pillow. Just like you used to have with Anya when she was small. You probably set out two cups and had whole conversations with yourself."

Mika continued, his voice calm and analytical.

"And I’m pretty sure that these pillows probably worked for a while. You had your parties. You had your walks. You had your conversations. Whenever you needed company, they were there."

He set the pillows down and looked at her gravely.

"But eventually, even that wouldn’t have been enough. Talking to pillows can only get you so far."

"You needed real connection. Real interaction. You wanted to see your actual sisters."

He looked at her directly.

"But you couldn’t. Because for years, you’ve been pushing them away. Creating this rivalry. Making it very, very clear that you want nothing to do with them."

He leaned closer.

"So suddenly reaching out would be impossible, wouldn’t it? Not just because of your pride and dignity—though that would definitely take a hit."

"But because after not talking to them properly for so long, to suddenly become friendly would be incredibly uncomfortable. For all of you."

Astrid was completely frozen now, hanging on his every word.

"So you needed another way. You needed excuses. Opportunities to spend time with them without it seeming like you wanted to."

He pointed at her again.

"Charlotte, for example. You mentioned earlier how you ’forced’ her to work on your project. How she was reluctant, but you used...persuasion."

He smiled knowingly.

"I’ll admit, Charlotte is a brilliant researcher. Extremely smart. But you could have replaced her with someone else. A team of people at her level, even. You could have avoided that entire situation."

He tilted his head.

"But you didn’t. Why?"

He answered before she could.

"Because you wanted to spend time with her. You manufactured this whole situation—created a reason for her to be by your side—just so you could have her company."

"All those project discussions?"

"All that time spent together?"

"It was all beneficial for you. Because you got to be with your sister."

Astrid’s face was burning now.

"It’s the same with Anya."

He said smugly, reading her like a book.

"You didn’t have to handle her policy negotiations yourself. You could have let your secretary deal with it. Your staff. Anyone."

"But instead, you took it all on personally."

"Through that, you got opportunities to go to restaurants with her. Discuss plans. Spend time together."

"And it has nothing to do with the actual policies, does it?" He scoffed at how obvious her games were. "It’s all just an excuse. So you can talk to your little sister. Be near her."

He sat back and pointed at her saying,

"And I’m willing to bet you’ve done the same with the other two. Manufactured reasons. Created opportunities. Just so you could have them close."

He let out a breath, slightly exhausted from the long monologue.

Then he looked at her with those knowing eyes.

"Am I right, Astrid?"

"Did I get everything correct?"

Astrid could only stare at him.

There was shock in her face, yes, but also something close to awe like she was looking at someone who had just reached into her chest, pulled out the mess she herself had never dared sort through, and somehow arranged it into perfect order.

For a moment, she simply looked at him like that before finally whispering, in complete disbelief.

"How, Mika?...How do you know all of that?"

"How did you figure it out so perfectly?"

Mika, naturally, looked far too pleased with himself.

"It’s not that big of a deal." He said, waving one hand as if it were obvious. "After all, I know you like the back of my hand. Figuring out how you’d feel in the past isn’t exactly some impossible feat."

He said it lightly, almost carelessly, but those words hit Astrid much harder than he probably intended.

Because hidden inside that smugness was something deeply tender.

Only someone who had truly thought about her—really thought about her, despite the way she acted, despite the walls she put up, despite how insufferable she could be—could have pieced her together so cleanly.

She doubted even her own mother could have read her heart to this extent.

And that thought, absurdly enough, made her feel warm in a place she had not let anyone touch in years.

But Mika wasn’t done showing off.

"In fact..."

He continued, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I know you so well that I can even predict what else is inside that pouch of yours."

Before she could stop him, he slipped his hand back inside the pouch and rummaged around.

A second later, he pulled something out—and when he unfolded it, Astrid made a strangled sound and looked ready to throw herself through a wall.

It was a body pillow of Nuri, who looking very cute with her tiny fingers fluttering behind her and a shy look on her tiny face.

The very same dragon girl, who she was supposed to hate to the core.