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

Chapter 476 476: Under The Table Dealing

One delegate raised the issue of border barriers and territorial splits.

Mika answered with detailed proposals for shared security zones, citing specific historical treaties and suggesting new regulatory frameworks that satisfied both sides without favoring either.

Another spoke about integrating advanced technology into agriculture.

Mika described an entirely new apparatus no one in the room had heard of—a compact, mana-efficient irrigation system combined with soil-enhancing drones explaining its mechanics, projected yields, and implementation costs in elaborate but accessible detail.

The agricultural specialists in the crowd leaned forward, scribbling notes furiously, visibly shocked by the innovation.

Then came the thorny problem of resource distribution.

Mika laid out balanced regulations that allocated shares based on need, population, and contribution, using clear examples and contingency clauses that left both parties nodding in agreement.

The questions kept coming—racial integration policies, socio-economic ripple effects, environmental safeguards, trade tariffs.

Mika answered every single one fluidly, casually, as if he had prepared for this exact meeting months in advance.

He saw through every delegate's hidden agenda with a single glance, addressing their real concerns while maintaining perfect diplomatic poise.

The hall watched in stunned silence.

They had expected Nadia, the legendary Ice-Cold Queen to dominate the proceedings.

Instead, the young man beside her, whom many had dismissed as merely her sidekick, handled the entire agenda with effortless mastery.

No hesitation. No weakness. He dismantled objections before they could fully form and turned potential conflicts into opportunities for cooperation.

One official finally voiced what everyone was thinking, his tone hushed with awe.

"This boy...he's even more terrifying than Lady Nadia herself!"

But still, the officials pressed on, refusing to yield.

They asked more questions, sharper and more layered, probing for weaknesses

Mika answered them all, smoothly, thoroughly, never once faltering, turning what could have been a grueling battle of wits into a masterclass in diplomacy.

Nadia sat beside him, her heart swelling with a warmth she hadn't felt in years.

Just like any parent, she had always secretly hoped her child would one day follow in her footsteps.

But Mika didn't have just one mother. He had five and each of the Battle Angels had dreamed of a different future for him.

Nadia had wanted him to walk the path of diplomacy, to become a statesman who could bridge worlds and command respect the way she did.

She would have gladly stepped down from her own seat right then and there if he had ever shown the slightest interest in taking it.

Fauna had hoped he would pursue medicine, using his brilliance to heal the sick and wounded across both realms.

One sister had pushed for him to train soldiers and build armies, turning his talent into the ultimate shield for the human realm.

Another had wanted him to become an explorer, unraveling the mysteries of the world at her side.

Only Yelena, the most laid-back of them all, had no grand ambition—she simply wanted Mika to stay by her side forever, her beloved "pet" who would never leave.

Yet none of them had ever forced their dreams on him. It was his life, his choice. With his limitless potential he could have pursued every path at once if he wished.

So to see him now, standing before hundreds of battle-hardened diplomats, answering their most difficult questions without a moment's hesitation, dismantling their arguments with the ease of a master filled her with a pride so intense it almost hurt.

He was following her path. Not because she had demanded it, not because she had pushed him toward it, but because he had chosen it. For her.

And as his mother, she couldn't have asked for anything more.

This was a moment she would treasure forever, replay in her mind on lonely nights, hold close to her heart when the world grew cold.

But beneath that pride, another feeling stirred—something far more dangerous and confusing.

From one angle, it was simply her son helping his mother. That was how she had always seen it.

Yet after everything Mika had said and done to her earlier—she couldn't help but see the scene in a completely different light.

It looked exactly like a man protecting his woman!

And she wasn't the only one who saw it that way.

She could hear them. The female officials, whispering among themselves, their voices barely audible but impossible to ignore.

"Look at him. He's so handsome."

"And the way he's defending her...it's like he's her knight."

"Do you think they're together? They seem so close."

"Maybe they're a couple. A secret couple. That would explain why she brought him here."

Scandalous. Speculative. And utterly, completely wrong.

But the words burrowed into Nadia's mind like parasites, feeding on her confusion, her exhaustion, her sleepless nights and stretched-thin nerves.

She couldn't help but imagine it: if she wasn't his mother, if she was just a woman, then this would be exactly what it looked like.

A damsel in distress. A knight in shining armor. Mika standing before her, taking the brunt of the attack, shielding her from harm while she watched from safety.

Her heart raced.

She knew that if any other woman were in this position, they would fall for him. How could they not?

The strength, the confidence, the way he handled impossible situations like they were nothing—it was irresistible. It was designed to make a woman's emotions spiral.

But she wasn't a woman. She was a mother.

She shook her head, scolding herself. What was she thinking? Why was she looking at Mika that way? He was her son. Her baby boy. She had raised him, wiped his nose, taught him to walk.

She had no right to think of him like that!

It was his fault. She decided in her mind. His actions, his words, his touches—they had confused her, made her think illogical thoughts.

And she was tired. So tired. She hadn't slept properly in weeks.

The nap earlier had helped, but she was still sleep-deprived, still running on fumes. That was why her thoughts were so scattered.

She pushed the feelings aside.

And to distract herself, she pulled out her phone. She would take a video of Mika, send it to the group chat. Show off how amazing he was.

And maybe, just maybe infuriate her sisters a little. Let them know that Mika was with her, that she was the one getting his attention.

They would have such funny reactions. Yelena would probably threaten to fly over immediately. Fauna would send a string of jealous emojis.

The others would demand to know why they hadn't been invited.

She opened the camera, aimed it at Mika—

But then a shiver ran through her.

Her body jerked. A faint blush spread across her cheeks.

If she hadn't composed herself in that instant, if she had let the emotion loose—the barrier would have shattered and the building would have collapsed.

She looked down.

Mika's hand was on her thigh.

That wasn't new. He had been caressing her there for a while, a grounding gesture meant to calm her.

But now the dress had been pushed up quite a bit without her noticing, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her thick, plush thighs halfway.

And his fingers were no longer simply rubbing through fabric.

They were on bare skin! Gripping the soft, generous flesh with unmistakable intent!

He squeezed, kneaded, and stroked, his palm warm and possessive.

Nadia's breath hitched. She glanced sideways at him, but Mika's face remained perfectly composed—calm, focused, entirely absorbed in answering the next barrage of questions. He didn't even look at her.

It was as if his hand was acting on its own while his mind stayed locked on the meeting.

So, she let it go.

But his hand didn't stop. It grew more intimate. His fingers scraped against her skin, sending shivers up her spine. His palms dug deep, warm against her flesh.

It felt like a massage—but not the kind a mother should receive from her son.

But still, she let it go.

His hands grew shameless. He pushed her dress higher. His fingers found her inner thighs, stroking the sensitive skin there.

He pinched her flesh experimentally, then gripped her entire thigh like a clamp, holding tight before releasing.

She bit her lip and decided with withhold.

But he continued to increase the intensity and moved to the other thigh, repeating the process.

Stroking, gripping, squeezing. His hands crept higher, deeper, closer to where they should not go.

Because of this sensual touch, her body grew hot. Her breathing grew shallow. She fought to control her emotions, to keep them from leaking out and destroying the room.

She looked at him again and his face betrayed nothing.

He was still answering questions, still focused, still in his element. He seemed completely unaware of what his hands were doing.

'Perhaps he was stressed.' She thought. 'Anyone would be, facing a barrage of questions from hundreds of diplomats.'

He was simply using her body as a stress toy, working out his tension on her flesh.

She could endure that. A little embarrassment was a small price to pay for his success.

So, she didn't do anything.

But his hands became more aggressive. He even slapped her thighs lightly, experimentally as if testing their elasticity.

Slap!

The sound was muffled by the table, by the noise of the meeting, but she felt it. The sting, the heat, the way her flesh rippled beneath his palm.

Not to mention, her thighs were completely exposed now!

The table hid them from view, and her subordinates were behind her, blind to what was happening. No one could see.

No one except her.

And just as she was already feeling her body tremble all over, her hands crept higher. They reached the junction where her thighs met her torso, the sensitive crease that made her shiver whenever he touched it.

His fingers brushed against her underwear—not directly, not yet, but close. So close.

But she held on. Told herself it was nothing. Told herself he wasn't thinking about what he was doing. Told herself to endure.

Then Mika lifted his hand completely for a brief moment.

Nadia felt a flicker of relief—finally—only for horror to crash over her as his fingers returned, bolder than ever.

This time there was no pretense.

He placed them directly over the front of her black underwear, right where her pussy lay hidden beneath the thin fabric.