Chapter 197: Just, What Did I Do Wrong?!

Outside Yelena’s office door, Charlotte paced in nervous circles, her bare feet scuffing softly against the hardwood floor.

She’d cleaned up the mess she’d made in the living room, mopping up the evidence of her earlier indiscretion with Mika, her cheeks burning with shame as she scrubbed. And after cleaning herself up, the cool water doing little to soothe her racing thoughts, she slipped into a fresh pair of pajamas.

Now, she waited anxiously for Mika and her mother to emerge, her mind spiraling with scenarios of how she’d apologize.

After all, she loved her mother fiercely, not just as a parent—but as her closest confidante, the one who’d always been there, her rock and her best friend. So, the thought of Yelena hating her for what she’d done—squirting in front of her, showing off so brazenly, twisted her stomach into knots.

She was even ready to beg, to fall to her knees and plead for forgiveness, promising to do the dishes for a month, to give her mother endless massages, anything to mend the rift she feared she’d caused.

But as the minutes dragged on, with no sign of Mika or Yelena, Charlotte’s worry deepened.

Over an hour had passed, and they were still locked away in the office.

’What could they be talking about?’ She wondered, chewing her lip.

She’d assumed they were hashing out the awkwardness of her earlier display, that Mika was smoothing things over with Yelena, explaining her Venus Complex.

But the prolonged silence unnerved her.

She crept closer to the door, her heart pounding as she pressed her ear against it. Faint whimpers drifted through the wood, soft and indistinct, but enough to confirm they were inside.

’Are they fighting?’ She thought, her brow furrowing. ’Did I cause this?’

The idea of barging in crossed her mind, but she hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob, torn between her worry and the fear of interrupting something private.

But just as she steeled herself to open the door—Mika’s voice came through, calm and steady.

"Charlotte, you can come in...No need to wait out there anymore."

Relief flooded her, loosening the knot in her chest, as his voice wasn’t angry or flustered, it was composed, almost inviting.

Maybe everything was okay. Maybe they’d worked it out. A hopeful smile curved her lips as she pushed the door open, stepping inside with apologies ready to spill out.

"Mama, I’m so sorry." She began, her voice bright with sincerity. "I’ll do all the chores for a month, I swear, and I’ll give you the best massages in the world, even foot massges, whatever you want, just—"

Her words died in her throat, her body going rigid as if doused with ice water.

Her eyes widened, trembling with shock at the sight before her.

It was the most unbelievable, heart-stopping thing she’d ever seen, and for a moment, she thought she might faint.

As right now, on the office sofa, Yelena and Mika weren’t sitting side by side or cuddling innocently as they often did.

Instead, Yelena was perched on Mika’s lap, her back pressed against his chest and shockingly—her upper body completely bare.

Her full, firm breasts, eerily similar to Charlotte’s own—though firmer where Charlotte’s were softer and thicker, were exposed, glistening faintly in the dim light.

But what made Charlotte’s breath catch was Mika’s hands: they weren’t idle at his sides—but were groping Yelena’s breasts, squeezing and tugging them, his fingers twisting her nipples with a possessive intensity.

Meanwhile, Yelena sat there, her face flushed and nervous, her lips parted in soft whimpers as Mika did whatever he pleased, her body yielding to his touch.

Seeing this, Charlotte’s mind reeled, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.

For a fleeting second, she thought this must be a dream—one of her astral visions from her blessing, but the vividness of it, the heat in the room, the faint scent of her mother’s perfume, grounded her in reality.

This was real, and it was shattering. She stood frozen, her eyes locked on the scene, unable to process it until a surge of outrage snapped her out of her daze.

"You...You both!" She stammered, pointing a trembling finger at them, her voice rising in a blend of shock and betrayal. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Mika, you...W-Why are you groping my mother like that?! And why is she on your lap? And those are her breasts your laying your hands on! You’re not supposed to touch her like that—she’s practically your mother!"

She shook her head, her voice cracking with disbelief.

"This is so wrong, so wrong! And you, Mama!" She glared at her mother, who looked back at her nervously. "What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be the responsible one, the one guiding us, not...not letting him pull on your nipples like that!"

"...Just, what’s going on!? Why are you both doing this?!"

She expected Mika to freeze, to look guilty, to scramble for an excuse, anyone caught like this would.

But to her shock, he didn’t. His hands didn’t stop, his fingers still kneading Yelena’s breasts, drawing soft whimpers from her as she bit her lip.

Instead, he turned his gaze on Charlotte, his expression not flustered or ashamed but cold and solemn, his dark eyes sharp with an intensity that made her heart lurch.

It wasn’t his usual playful, casual demeanor, this was something else, something almost angry, and it hit her like a physical blow.

Charlotte wasn’t afraid of much, but Mika’s piercing stare was one of the few things that could unravel her. She’d always wanted to make him happy, to be the one he adored, and seeing him look at her like this—like she’d disappointed him, sent a wave of guilt crashing over her.

"D-Don’t look at me like that, Mika!" She protested, her voice trembling as she tried to hold her ground. "Why are you staring at me like I’m the one groping someone’s mother? Y-You’re the one at fault here! You’re the one twisting Mama’s breasts like that!"

"...So why are you looking at me like I did something wrong?"

Her hands clenched into fists, her bravado faltering under the weight of his stare.

But Mika didn’t back down. His eyes narrowed further, his gaze unyielding, and Charlotte’s courage crumbled.

The bold, fiery girl who’d stormed in ready to fight was gone, replaced by a trembling, squirrel-like figure, her shoulders hunching as she shrank under his scrutiny.

"Mika...I...what you’re doing is wrong." She stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "You’re not supposed to...I mean..."

Her words faltered, her body trembling as his cold stare silenced her protests. She knew she was in the right, he was the one crossing lines—but his gaze alone made her feel like she’d transgressed, and she couldn’t muster another word.

And Yelena, watching from Mika’s lap, was stunned.

Her daughter, so fierce and headstrong, had folded so easily under Mika’s gaze.

She’d always known Charlotte adored him, would do anything for him, but seeing it in action, her proud, defiant daughter reduced to a trembling, submissive puppy, was almost frightening.

A flicker of realization also hit her: she was no different.

If Mika turned that gaze on her, she’d falter just as quickly, her authority as a mother melting away under his influence and she’d be willing to do anything to make him stop looking at her in that way anymore. The thought made her heart race, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and unease.

And just Charlotte continued to bow her head more and more like she was afraid to even speak a single word, Mika finally turned to her and spoke.

"Charlotte..."

He called, his tone low but firm, making her jump as if her name alone carried a weight, before looking at her up and down like he was observing her and saying,

"Before I say anything else, I want you to come over here. Right in front of your mother. Kneel down on the floor and look up at me."

Yelena’s eyes widened, her breath catching. There was no way Charlotte would agree to that. Her daughter was just like her, proud, stubborn, unyielding, even to her own mother.

Kneeling in front of Mika, especially after catching him like this, was unthinkable.

But to her utter disbelief, Charlotte hesitated only a moment before obeying. Her feet shuffled forward, her eyes darting nervously between Mika and Yelena, and then she sank to her knees right in front of her mother, her face a mask of worry and confusion.

She looked up at Mika like a scolded puppy, her cheeks flushed, her hands fidgeting in her lap, while Yelena stared down at her daughter, her heart pounding.

From this angle, Charlotte had a clear view of Mika’s hands on her breasts, the way he squeezed and tugged, the glistening sheen on her nipples from his earlier attention.

The sight was painfully erotic, and Charlotte’s wide, trembling eyes only amplified the intensity of the moment. Yelena’s face burned, her mind reeling with shame and arousal, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, trapped in the surreal weight of the scene.

And before either mother or daughter could say a word, Mika’s voice flowed through the tense air, calm but commanding.

"Charlotte, look at me." He said, his gaze fixed on her, his eyes dark and unyielding. "Really look at my face. Can you tell me what I’m feeling right now? What emotion is on my face?"

Charlotte hesitated, her eyes flickering up to meet his. His expression was solemn, his jaw set, a stark contrast to the playful warmth she was used to.

She swallowed hard, her voice small and uncertain as she asked, "Are...Are you angry, Mika? You look angry, don’t you? Or am I wrong?" Her words came out more like a question, her head tilting as she searched his face for confirmation.

Mika’s response was immediate—his hand tightening slightly on Yelena’s breast, his fingers tugging at her nipple with a pull to which Charlotte’s eyes widened, her breath catching as she watched her mother moan in a way she’d never imagined, raw, vulnerable, and unmistakably sensual.

But Mika didn’t care for her reaction and the taboo of what he was doing and went on to say while looking at Charlotte with narrowed eyes,

"You’re right, Charlotte. I am angry. In fact, I’m so damn angry I could strip you bare right now, spank that bottom of yours until it’s red and welted, so sore you couldn’t sit for days."

His words were sharp, almost menacing, and Charlotte jerked back, her eyes wide with fright, her body trembling as she clutched her pajamas. But then Mika’s expression softened, his voice calming as he leaned back slightly.

"But...I won’t. What you did was an honest mistake, bursting in like that. I’m pissed, yeah, but I’m not gonna take it out on you. You’re too pitiful for that, you know."

And hearing this, Charlotte’s lips quivered, tears welling in her eyes as his words sank in. Instead of calming her, his blend of anger and restraint left her feeling more helpless, more confused.

She felt like a child caught in a storm she didn’t understand, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of it all.

"M-Mika, why?" She whispered, her voice breaking, tears spilling down her cheeks. "What did I do wrong? Why are you so a-angry with me?"

"I mean, just think about it! I’m the one who should be upset here! I walked in, and you’re...you’re groping my mother! You’re pulling her nipples right in front of me, like it’s nothing!"

Her voice rose, trembling with indignation as she pointed at him, then at Yelena.

"So, technically, I’m supposed to be the one asking questions, demanding what’s going on! But you’re turning it around, making me feel like I’m the one who messed up!"

"I don’t get it, Mika. Please, just tell me what’s happening. I’m so confused, I...I don’t want to hurt you, or Mama. If you tell me what I did, I can fix it!"

Her words tumbled out in a desperate rush, her eyes pleading as she wiped at her tears and Yelena’s heart twisted at the sight of her daughter’s distress, guilt flooding her as she watched Charlotte unravel.

She wanted to reach out, to pull her close and soothe her, but Mika’s hands on her breasts kept her pinned in place, her body still tingling from his touch. She bit her lip, her own shame mingling with a strange pride at how Mika was handling the situation, even as it horrified her.

And seeing Charlotte on the verge of tears, Mika couldn’t help but smile in his heart even though it hurt him to see Charlotte like this. In his mind, everything was unfolding perfectly, his hard tactic had shaken her, and now it was time to shift gears, to soothe her into submission.

So, he sighed, his voice gentling as he leaned forward slightly.

"Hey, don’t cry, Charlotte." He said softly, his tone almost tender. "Come here. Come here. No more tears."

He extended one arm toward herand...Charlotte didn’t hesitate.

Her tears spilled freely as she scrambled to her feet, practically throwing herself into Mika’s embrace, her face burying into his shoulder.

"Mika!~ I don’t know what I did!~" She sobbed, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I’m so sorry, whatever it wasn! I didn’t mean to make you mad. I hate it when you look at me like that, all cold and angry. I want the Mika who smiles at me, who plays with me, not...not this!"

Her words broke with a pitiful hiccup, her arms wrapping tightly around him.

"So, p-please don’t hate me! I’ll do anything to fix it, just tell me what I did wrong! Please, just tell me and I’ll do whatever is necessary to for you to forgive me!"

"Shh, it’s okay." Mika soothingly murmured as his arms closed around her, one hand stroking her back in a soothing, almost paternal gesture. "I went too hard on you, didn’t I? I’m not angry, Charlotte, not really. I just...got frustrated, that’s all."

He drew her closer, his tone warm and steady.

"You’re fine...I could never hate you."

The sincerity in his voice made her shoulders loosen a little. Her sobs quieted as she buried her face against him, and he kept his hand moving gently, steady and reassuring.

Meanwhile, Yelena watched, her mouth slightly agape, her mind reeling at the scene unfolding before her.

In mere minutes, Mika had turned the situation on its head—Charlotte had stormed in, righteous and furious, only to end up kneeling, then begging for forgiveness, all without knowing what she’d done wrong.

One moment, Charlotte was crying; the next, she was clinging to him, desperate for his approval.

And all the while—Mika’s hand never left Yelena’s breast, his fingers teasing her nipple with a casual intimacy that made her body hum even as her mind screamed at the wrongness of it all.

She realized, with a jolt, that Mika was no longer the innocent boy she’d raised. He’d become something else, a manipulative force who wielded his charm and authority like a weapon, bending both mother and daughter to his will.

But the most shocking part was how that didn’t scare her and instead turned her on, seeing how he took control of the situation so easily like no one else could do.

...But still she wondered what excuse he was going to give Charlotte as to why he was groping her.

Mika, for his part, felt a pang of guilt as he held Charlotte, her tears soaking his shirt. She hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. After all, he was gaslighting her, using her love for him to twist the situation to his advantage.

But he pushed the guilt aside, convincing himself it was necessary.

This was about bringing them together, about forging a new kind of family, one bound by intimacy and trust, even if it meant crossing lines.

He needed Charlotte to see, to accept, just as he needed Yelena to embrace their connection.

It was like walking on thin glass to reach the gates of getting a harem, and he was determined to see it through...