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

Chapter 625: The Day Before The Reckoning

Through everything he went through, Mika never broke.

He endured the Iron Sentinel’s crushing grip, the surgeon’s scalpel, the actor’s blowtorch, the chef’s knives, the newscaster’s camera, the politician’s belt, the professor’s lectures.

He endured them all with that same defiant glare in his eyes.

But there was one single, terrible moment where Charlotte saw genuine fear on his face.

—

Marcus came alone that time.

He didn’t bring any tools. He didn’t bring any of his usual instruments of torture.

He simply walked up to Mika’s chair with a strange, satisfied smile on his face.

“You know.” He said, his voice soft and contemplative. “You embarrassed me the other day. Rattling my domain like that. Making me look weak in front of a guest.”

He reached out and tapped Mika’s forehead with a single finger. “I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

And suddenly, Mika’s eyes went blank.

His body, which had always been tense and ready, went limp. His head lolled forward.

And then slowly his face began to contort.

“Mmm! Nnnnn!”

Not with physical pain. Charlotte had seen Mika in physical pain a thousand times by now.

No, this was different. This was worse.

“No.” Mika whispered, his voice cracking. “No, please….S-Stop it!…Don’t!”

Charlotte leaned forward, her heart pounding.

“Mika? Mika, what’s happening?!”

“Yelena.” The name came out as a broken plea. “Yelena, please! Don’t do this! Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t—I would never—”

Charlotte’s blood ran cold. He had just said her mother’s name.

“Fauna.” Another name. Another broken plea. “Fauna, please don’t leave me! Don’t abandon me! I need you! Please! I need—”

His voice dissolved into sobs.

“Nadia! Nadia, why are you looking at me like that?! I didn’t do it! Please—! You have to believe me—! I would never hurt anyone—! I would never hurt you! Please!”

The Maiden of War.

The Maiden of Fate.

One by one, every member of their family was named. And every time, Mika’s voice was filled with the same desperate, agonized pleading.

He was begging them.

Begging them to believe him. Begging them not to leave him. Begging them not to hate him.

And then he said Charlotte’s name.

“Charlotte.” His voice was barely a whisper now, raw and broken. “Charlotte, please. Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you!?”

“I-I love you! I’ve always loved you! Please don’t—please don’t hurt me. Please don’t betray me! I can’t—I can’t lose you too—”

Charlotte grabbed his hand, squeezing it as hard as she could.

“Mika! Mika, I’m here! I’m right here! Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real! It’s all fake! It’s all a lie that Marcus put in your head!”

But Mika couldn’t hear her. He was lost in whatever nightmare Marcus had constructed for him.

And he was breaking.

“What did you do to him?!” Charlotte screamed at Marcus. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Marcus watched Mika’s suffering with an expression of pure, unadulterated satisfaction.

This was what he had been waiting for.

Not the screams of physical pain—those had become almost routine by now.

But this raw, emotional devastation. This was precious.

“I simply gave him a glimpse of his worst fears.”

Marcus said, his voice dripping with pleasure.

“Right now, he’s experiencing a series of scenarios. In each one, the people he loves most are turning against him. Betraying him. Abandoning him. Hunting him. Killing him.”

He chuckled.

“The more he loves them, the more devastating the betrayal feels. And this boy—” He shook his head in genuine wonder. “—this boy loves your family more than I’ve ever seen anyone love anything.”

“You’re a freaking psycho…” Charlotte whispered.

“I’m an artist. And he’s my masterpiece.” Marcus leaned against a bookshelf, crossing his arms.

“Even now, I imagine, your mother is probably pushing him away. Telling him he was never really part of the family. That he was always an outsider.”

“…That she never truly loved him.”

“Liar! Mama would never say that!”

“Of course she wouldn’t. That’s what makes it so effective.” Marcus’s smile widened. “The scenarios don’t have to be realistic. They just have to be his deepest fears. And right now—”

He gestured at Mika, who was sobbing and pleading with people who weren’t there.

“—right now, his deepest fears are tearing him apart from the inside.”

Charlotte wanted to kill him. She wanted to tear out his throat with her teeth.

But she couldn’t. She could only hold Mika’s hand and whisper to him, over and over, that she was there.

That she loved him.

That she would never, ever betray him.

—

It went on for hours.

Mika screamed names until his throat gave out. He begged and pleaded and sobbed. He thrashed against his restraints.

He called out to every person he had ever loved, begging them not to leave him, not to hate him, not to hurt him.

And Charlotte stayed by his side through all of it, holding his hand, singing softly to him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

—

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mika’s eyes snapped open.

The first thing he saw was Charlotte’s face. And for one horrible moment, he flinched away from her.

His eyes were wide with fear, with the lingering remnants of whatever nightmare he had just endured.

He looked at her as if he expected her to hurt him.

Then awareness returned.

“Charlotte.” His voice was hoarse, barely audible. “I’m…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Charlotte grabbed his face in both hands, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t you ever apologize for that. It wasn’t real, Mika. Whatever you saw—whatever he made you see—it wasn’t real. I would never hurt you! Mama would never hurt you! None of us would ever, ever betray you!”

“Do you understand?”

“I know.” Mika’s voice was weak, but there was a hint of his old certainty returning. “I know it wasn’t real. But it felt…”

“It felt real. I know.” Charlotte pressed her forehead against his. “But it wasn’t. And I’m here. I’m right here. And I’m never leaving you.”

Mika closed his eyes and let out a long, shaky breath.

“Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

—

The days continued their relentless march.

More people came. More torture. More pain.

Sometimes they came in groups, discussing techniques like academics at a conference, debating the most effective methods of inflicting suffering while Mika listened and occasionally contributed his own sardonic observations.

“I prefer psychological pressure.”

“Too unreliable. Fear fades.”

“Not if you apply it consistently.”

Mika glanced between them. “Fascinating. You’ve somehow turned cruelty into a group project.”

There were repeat customers now—people who had enjoyed their first session so much that they came back for seconds, thirds, fourths.

They greeted Mika like an old friend, asked him how he was doing, and then proceeded to tear him apart all over again.

Through it all, Charlotte stayed by his side.

She had long since stopped being shocked by the parade of monsters.

She had stopped feeling anything at all when another respected public figure revealed themselves to be a sadistic degenerate.

The world was darkness wearing a mask of light, and she had finally learned to see through the illusion.

The only constant was Mika.

And even Mika was starting to fade.

His eyes, once so bright and defiant, had grown dim. His voice, once so quick with clever retorts, had grown quiet.

He still held on, still refused to break. But Charlotte could see the toll it was taking on him.

Twenty days had passed since they first arrived in this nightmare.

Twenty days of torture and pain and betrayal.

And tomorrow was New Year’s Eve.

—

The final break came late on the day before the celebration.

A particularly enthusiastic guest had spent the better part of an hour focusing exclusively on Mika’s face.

By the time he was done, there was nothing left of it—just raw, glistening muscle and exposed bone, the features completely obliterated.

Marcus hadn’t bothered to restore it yet, perhaps as a reminder of what awaited Mika at tomorrow’s party.

Charlotte sat beside him, holding his hand. She had long since stopped being horrified by such sights.

After twenty days, she had seen worse. Much worse.

“I look quite ugly, don’t I, Charlotte?” Mika’s voice was strangely light, almost joking.

It was hard to tell without lips, but she thought he might be trying to smile.

“Not at all.” She said immediately. “You’re still the most handsome boy in the world.”

“Even like this?”

“Even like this.” She squeezed his hand. “Even if you stayed this way forever, Mika, I would still think you were beautiful.”

“And you’d still want to marry me like you always wished?”

“Of course! I decided I was going to marry you when I was three years old, Mika. A little thing like not having a face isn’t going to change my mind.”

Mika’s eyes, the only part of his face that was still recognizable studied her for a long moment.

Even without eyelids, she could see the emotion in them. The gratitude. The affection. The exhaustion.

“Charlotte.” He said quietly. “Can you sing me that song? The one your mother always used to sing to you at bedtime?”

Charlotte blinked. “You mean…”

“The one the our family used to sing during the war. When things were at their darkest. When they didn’t know if they would survive to see another dawn.”

His voice grew softer. “You used to hum it sometimes, back home. When you thought no one was listening. I always liked hearing it.”

“Of course. Of course I’ll sing for you.”

“But my voice isn’t as good as Mama’s.” She added, suddenly self-conscious. “And I don’t know all the words perfectly. It might sound silly.”

“I don’t care how it sounds.”

Mika’s eyes met hers—those tired, aching eyes that had seen so much horror.

“I just want to hear your voice. Please, Charlotte. Right now, I…I can’t hold on much longer. I’m breaking inside. I don’t want to show weakness, but I can’t keep pretending I’m strong.”

“But if you sing for me—”

A ghost of a smile crossed his ruined face.

“—if you sing for me, I think I can hold on a little longer.”

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked them away.

“Okay.” She said. “Okay, Mika. I’ll sing for you.”

She took a deep breath. And then, in her small, slightly off-key voice, she began to sing.

“I’ve walked through fields of iron,

I’ve slept beneath the rain,

I’ve watched the morning swallow

The smoke above the plains.”

“But every time the wind blows,

I hear a distant song—

A little tune from somewhere

I have known for far too long.”

Her voice wavered on the high notes. She stumbled over some of the words. The tempo wasn’t quite right—she always forgot whether this part was supposed to be faster or slower.

But she kept singing.

“Oh, carry me home, little bird on the breeze,

Past the mountains and the old willow trees.

Tell them I’m coming, though the road may be long,

Tell my mother I’m still holding on.”

Mika closed his eyes. The tension in his shoulders began to ease.

“I’ve wandered too far beneath foreign skies,

But home is the place where my heart still lies.

So carry my voice where the hearthlight glows—

I’m tired of fighting.”

“I-I just want to go home.”

Her voice cracked and wobbled, and she was sure she got at least half the words wrong, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

Because Mika was finally relaxing. The pain that had been etched into every line of his body was melting away, replaced by something that looked almost like peace.

When she finished, she started again from the beginning. She sang it over and over like a lullaby, her voice growing softer and softer until it was barely a whisper.

And Mika, finally, fell asleep.

But just before his eyes closed completely, he spoke one last time.

“One more day, Charlotte.”

His voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear it.

“One more day, and we’ll get out of here.”

A small smile crossed his ruined face.

“And then…hehe…And then we’ll get our revenge.”

He fell asleep.

Charlotte stared at him. Her heart was pounding.

Tomorrow was the New Year. The day of the party—the grand celebration where all of Marcus’s guests would gather.

Tomorrow was also the day Mika had been waiting for.

She didn’t know what he was planning. She didn’t know how he could possibly escape from this place.

But she trusted him. If Mika said they would get out tomorrow, they would get out tomorrow.

And then—then they would make every single one of these monsters pay.

—

In the physical world, Marcus sat at his desk, tapping his fingers against the wood.

He should have been excited. Tomorrow was the biggest event of the year—the Paradise of Sin’s New Year’s celebration.

Every important guest would be there. The playthings had been selected. The entertainment had been arranged. Everything was perfect.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

‘One more day, and we’ll get out of here.’

He had heard Mika say those words through his surveillance of the library. The boy had been so confident. So certain. Even after twenty days of torture, he still believed he was going to escape.

But…it was impossible!

Marcus had triple-checked every aspect of his domain.

There were no loopholes. No weaknesses. No way out.

Mika was trapped forever, and nothing he did could change that.

And yet…

Marcus kept tapping his fingers. The unease wouldn’t go away.

‘It’s nothing.’ He told himself. ‘He’s just trying to give the girl hope. Empty words. Meaningless promises.’

But deep in his gut, a cold fear was growing.

Something was going to happen tomorrow.

Something he couldn’t control.

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