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

Chapter 474: Mother And Son Rivers

As much as they wanted to continue the prank—watching the officials squirm, seeing the husbands grow pale—they eventually had to stop.

The break was over.

Everyone had returned to their seats, shuffling papers and murmuring amongst themselves, trying to regain their composure after the bizarre audio incident.

Mika lowered the barrier.

The shimmering shield dissolved, revealing them both to the world once more. The crowd, still flustered, still nursing collective headaches from the ordeal, turned toward the front table.

And they froze.

They were used to seeing Nadia with a cold, composed mask, a stone face that never cracked, never wavered, no matter the provocation.

But right now, something was different.

Her cheeks held a faint tint of red. Her eyes glimmered with an unusual brightness. A few strands of hair clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.

It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. But these were politicians—observant by nature, trained to notice the smallest details. And what they saw made their souls stutter.

She looked...seductive.

Not intentionally. Not dramatically. But the slight flush, the glazed eyes, the barely parted lips—it was enough to make every person in the room, male and female alike, forget what they had been about to say.

How could anyone be so beautiful?

Nadia felt the weight of their stares and wanted to sink into the floor. Every single thing that had happened in that barrier was fresh in her mind.

And now all these people were looking at her, and she felt like a pervert who had been caught showing off.

She looked down, unable to meet their eyes.

But she couldn’t afford to hide. The meeting was about to restart, and she needed to be at full strength.

She straightened her dress, smoothed her hair, and gently slapped her own cheeks—a small, grounding gesture to pull herself together.

The years of preparation, the decades of knowledge, the carefully constructed arguments—all of it was still there. She just had to access it.

But her mind kept drifting back to Mika.

To his hands. His words. His question about impregnation.

She wanted to drag him out of this hall and demand answers, to force him to explain exactly what was happening between them.

Something was brewing, something she didn’t understand, and it gnawed at her.

But she had a duty. A responsibility. She couldn’t abandon it now.

She picked up the microphone.

"Welcome back, everyone." Her voice was steady, professional. "Let’s not waste any time and resume the discussion."

She paused, then added, almost reluctantly,

"I would also like to suggest that we focus on issues between realms—socioeconomic consequences, trade regulations, security concerns."

"Let’s try to keep things...professional. Not personal."

Normally, such a suggestion would have been met with sneers. These officials were wily foxes who loved exploiting weaknesses, especially personal ones.

But now, every single one of them glanced at Mika, still eating, still ignoring them and remembered the boy who had threatened to expose their families.

They nodded and agreed unanimously.

Nadia felt a wave of relief. She glanced at Mika, wondering if he realized he was the reason they had caved so easily.

"The discussions may begin again." She announced. "Please, ask whatever questions you have."

She leaned back in her chair, regaining her usual composure. The cold, aloof Battle Angel, commanding authority, ready to face anything.

Nothing would stop her now!

After everything Mika had done to clear the air about her daughter, she felt a surge of confidence. She would handle every issue, every challenge, with the same flawless precision she always had.

Unfortunately, that confidence shattered the instant the first real question was asked.

One of the snake-race delegates stood, cleared his throat, and spoke in a measured tone.

"Lady Nadia, if I may...we must address the severe effects of mining purified Uruguite ore on the Mother and Son Rivers in our realm."

Nadia’s breath caught.

"Those rivers flow through dozens of major cities and towns. They are the lifeblood of our people. Continued mining in that region for resources that other realms require will poison the waters. The pollution is already beginning."

He looked at her, his expression grave.

"How exactly do we intend to solve this issue while still honoring the trade agreements?"

The Mother and Son Rivers. Two rivers—the Mother, broad and deep, and the Son, a smaller tributary branching from her.

They provided fresh water to countless settlements. And they were being poisoned by the mining of a rare, powerful ore called Urugite—a resource so valuable that several realms had made its extraction a condition of joining the coalition.

There was no easy solution. The ore was too valuable to simply abandon. But the environmental cost was too high to ignore.

It was a deadlock, one that had stumped experts for years.

But still they expected Nadia to navigate the problem with her usual diplomatic grace, perhaps offering precautions or future studies to buy time.

Instead, Nadia froze.

’Mother and Son Rivers.’

The words echoed in her mind, over and over.

Mother. Son. She thought of Mika. Of his hands on her body. Of his voice whispering in her ear. Of the things he had said—the dirty, forbidden things that a son should never say to his mother.

Shame flooded through her.

She had been so certain she could compartmentalize. Push those memories aside and focus on the meeting.

But now, with those two words, it all came rushing back. She saw herself in his lap, felt his fingers on her breasts, heard him say he wanted to impregnate her.

And now everyone was staring at her, waiting for an answer.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

The snake delegate shifted uncomfortably.

"Lady Nadia? Is something wrong?"

Her subordinates whispered behind her.

"Lady Nadia? Are you alright?"

She wasn’t. She was falling apart, right in front of everyone. Her legendary composure, her unshakeable control, it was crumbling because her son had touched her and she had let him.

She was going to fail. Fail everyone who believed in her, fail the coalition, fail ten years of work and lose it all.

But just as panic threatened to overwhelm her completely—a warm, grounding sensation brushed across her thigh.

Mika’s hand had slid beneath the table. His fingers stroked slowly, gently up and down her thigh in soothing circles, a silent reassurance.

When she glanced at him, he met her eyes with a calm, steady smile and gave her a single, confident nod.

Then he reached for the microphone.

"Apologies, everyone." He said smoothly, voice carrying through the hall. "Nadia isn’t feeling entirely well at the moment. I’ll be answering this question on her behalf."

The entire room shivered. The snake official especially paled.

He had a daughter, after all and fear rippled through the delegates.

Mika noticed his fear and waved a hand dismissively.

"Relax. Like Nadia said, no one’s family is going to be implicated today. As long as you all play nice, I’ll play nice." He smiled. "No more mentions of daughters or wives. Promise."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the hall. Shoulders relaxed. Foreheads were wiped.

But they didn’t underestimate him anymore.

This boy was dangerous. They listened carefully as he set down his fork, leaned his chin on his hand, and began to speak.

"Now, about your question..."

He looked at the snake delegate, and his expression shifted. The playfulness faded. His voice grew serious.

"The issue you brought up is significant. It affects millions of lives. And I know that many people in your own faction didn’t want you to ask this question because the mining industry is profitable, and bringing attention to its negative effects could threaten that profitability."

The snake delegate’s eyes trembled.

"So I want to commend you." Mika continued. "It seems you’re not trying to oppose the treaty. You’re trying to protect your homeland. You care more about your people than about political games."

The delegate blinked, caught completely off guard. He had expected an attack. Instead, he received genuine praise.

"I...thank you." He managed. "But still—I need an answer. This issue is serious. If we can’t find a solution, my people will not support the treaty. No matter how beneficial it is otherwise."

The officials nodded grimly. This was a real obstacle—one that had no easy solution.

Mika didn’t seem bothered.

"Of course. If we let an issue like this slip through, we wouldn’t be able to sleep at night."

He smiled before finally saying,

"Luckily, I have a solution."

The hall erupted.

"A solution?! He has a solution!?"

"How? No one has been able to solve this for years!"

"Is he serious!? Is he joking?"

"He said it before, and I didn’t believe him. But now..."

Nadia turned to look at him, her eyes wide. She herself had no solution to this problem—had spent months trying to find one, in fact, without success.

She had been prepared to answer in a roundabout way, to buy time, to promise future research.

But Mika was claiming he could solve it outright.

She stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception.

He met her gaze and winked.

Then he turned back to the snake delegate, his expression confident, and began to explain.

"This may seem like a strange question." He began. "But do you know about a plant called Arugulaeus Bellaramius?"