Chapter 200: Damage Control
The office floor was a mess, drenched in glistening pools that shimmered under the dim light, a testament to Yelena’s uncontrollable release.
Mika’s eyes swept over the scene—a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
When Charlotte had squirted the day before, he’d thought that was impressive, but Yelena had outdone her, as if someone had turned on a hose and let it run unchecked.
Mika was quietly satisfied, his plan unfolding exactly as he’d envisioned. This taboo act had pushed Yelena and Charlotte to confront sides of themselves they’d never dared to explore, forging an intimate bond that would inevitably draw them closer, closer to each other, and closer to him.
His ultimate goal was to make them accept each other as his partners, to weave them into his web so tightly they couldn’t escape.
But for now, the aftermath loomed, and it was messy in more ways than one.
Charlotte sat frozen, her knees still pressed against the wet floor, her mouth slightly open as she stared at the soaked carpet in a daze. Her eyes were wide, her expression one of stunned disbelief, as if the sight of her mother’s explosive release had left her traumatized.
Mika waved a hand in front of her face, but she didn’t blink, her gaze locked on the floor, her mind struggling to process what she’d witnessed.
Yelena, meanwhile, was in a worse state.
Curled up on Mika’s lap, she had drawn her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if forming a protective shield. Her face was buried against her knees, her body trembling with shame.
She looked like a frightened kitten, desperate to hide from her daughter’s gaze, from the humiliating reality of what she’d done. Her soaked panties still clung to her, a constant reminder of her exposure, and she refused to meet anyone’s eyes, her silence a wall of mortification.
Mika knew that Yelena would likely self-destruct if he left her like this. This was, without a doubt, the most humiliating moment of her entire life. He had to deal with her first.
He gently poked the cheek she was trying to hide.
"Yelena..." He said, his voice soft but teasing. "Come on, don’t curl up like that. What’s wrong? You’ve lost a lot of fluid, do you need some water to replenish?" His tone was playful, but it only made her shiver, her hands tightening over her face.
Mika tried again, shaking her gently.
"Come on, Yelena, don’t pout like this. You’re an adult, not a child. This isn’t a big deal, really. By tomorrow, you’ll have forgotten all about it. Stop being so silent, okay?"
But Yelena only pressed her face closer to his chest, her breasts rubbing against him as she curled tighter, her silence unbroken.
Mika even tried to gently play with her nipples, twisting them lightly between his fingers—but that only elicited a small, choked whimper and a silent moan. She still wouldn’t speak.
Mika realized that his actions had truly impacted Yelena. She was going through such intense, complex emotions that she didn’t even want to speak or look at him.
But Mika wasn’t deterred. He knew how to break through her defenses.
With a sly grin, he pulled out his phone, quickly snapping a photo of the drenched floor and Yelena’s curled-up form on his lap.
The click of the camera made her jolt, her head snapping up as she realized what he’d done.
He looked down at her, his voice suddenly hard and businesslike, the affection gone.
"I’ll give you three seconds, Yelena." He said, his eyes drilling into her. "By the countdown of three, if you don’t look up and start talking to me, I’ll send this to the family group chat. Everyone can see what you’ve done."
Before she could form a protest, he started counting.
"Three."
His voice was utterly serious.
"Two."
"One—"
"Wait—!"
Yelena broke. At the mention of the group chat, the ultimate, most public humiliation, she couldn’t stop herself anymore.
She finally looked up, her face a heartbreaking, pitiful mask of someone who had been deeply wronged. Her eyes were trembling and tearing up, on the verge of breaking into a flood of tears.
"M-Mika, you big bully!" She finally choked out the pitiful and wounded words that she had been holding in. "What did I do to you, Mika? Tell me! What did I do?"
She tightened her grip on him, a fierce, demanding possessiveness mixed with her shame.
"Sure, when you were a child, I teased you from time to time! And sure, I made you always carry my things whenever we went shopping, and I basically turned you into my assistant and sidekick wherever I went...But I still did my best as your mother!"
Her voice cracked.
"I took care of you, cleaned up after you, helped you bathe, helped you with your homework. I was with you every step of the way! I loved you and cherished you so much!"
"Honestly, I even gave you more attention than my own daughter! I poured my love into you, but still, still..." She bit her lip until it was white. "Still you did something like this!"
Her voice escalated, rising in a raw, emotional pitch.
"You humiliated me in front of my daughter! You made me do such an embarrassing thing right here!" She gestured frantically at the wet floor. "I squirted in front of my daughter, Mika! I squirted right there on the spot!"
"Not just once, but twice, over and over again! Streams and streams of liquid came out of my private space and splattered all over the place!"
She glared, her eyes swimming with tears.
"Just because I let you push me around, you take advantage of it every time! You’re such a bully, Mika!" Her voice broke into a sob, her hands tightening on his shirt.
Seeing this, Mika’s heart twinged with a flicker of guilt as he looked at her tear-streaked face, but he pushed it aside.
This was all for their future, he told himself, a necessary step to bind them to him.
But Yelena wasn’t done. Her eyes narrowed, a sudden suspicion cutting through her distress.
"And why, Mika?" She asked, her voice low and trembling. "Why did you make us do that last part? Charlotte already believed us! It was unnecessary, completely unnecessary! Why did you make me...taste her?"
"There’s no way that was just a joke, or to tease me. You wouldn’t go that far just for that. So why? What was the point?"
Her voice was sharp now, her gaze searching his face for answers, her suspicion growing.
Charlotte also snapped out of her stupor at her mother’s words, her own eyes turning to Mika.
"Yeah, Mika." She said, her voice shaky but firm. "Why did you make me do that? It was...it was so wrong. Why did you make Mama...taste me? What was that supposed to prove?" Her hands trembled, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and confusion.
Hearing this question, Mika froze, caught off guard.
The truth was simple but unspeakable: he wanted to push them closer, to normalize such intimate acts between them, to make them his in every way.
But he couldn’t admit that, it would shatter his carefully constructed facade.
His mind raced, searching for an excuse, but none came.
Yelena and Charlotte stared at him, their eyes filled with expectation, waiting for an answer he didn’t have. For a moment, he was stumped, his confidence wavering.
Then, a realization dawned on him, not about an excuse, but about a vulnerability. He knew exactly who he was talking to.
The woman in front of him, for all her pride and power, was just like every other woman in his family: she had a huge, exploitable weakness.
He smiled, a deep, knowing warmth replacing the cold calculation in his eyes. He decided to exploit her ultimate desire instead of giving a reason.
So, while Yelena waited, Mika didn’t deliver the explanation. Instead, he gently framed her face with his hands, drawing her so close that their noses almost touched.
He looked deep into her eyes, his voice dropping to a smooth, sincere whisper that cut through her shame and anxiety, speaking the words she craved to hear most.
"Yelena, you know. I don’t tell you this much. But I...." He said, his voice soft but intense. "...I love you. I love you so much."
Yelena blinked, her tears slowing as she stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
"W-What?" She stammered, her voice trembling, not knowing why he was saying something like that now.
But then she quickly realised that this was Mika’s age old tactic of coddling her and pampering her whenever he did something and wanted to escape any punishment, which she always fell because how much her words meant to him.
But this time she wasn’t willing to give in too easily because of the severity of the matter and was about to protest—
—but before she could, Mika went on with his honeyed words.
"You’re so cute, you know." He whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering. "The way your nose scrunches when you’re frustrated...the way you act all serious and noble but turn into this shy, flustered girl when I get too close."
Yelena’s cheeks flushed with burning color.
"S-Stop it, Mika. I know what you’re doing." She stammered, trying to pull back a little, though she didn’t actually move away. "Just because you say things like that...d-doesn’t mean you can distract me or make me forget what I asked."
But Mika only smiled, the curve of his lips gentle and maddeningly affectionate. He rested his forehead against hers and continued, unfazed.
"And your eyes." He murmured. "Gods, your eyes...they look at me like I’m everything. And every time they fill with worry or care, it makes me want to hold you tighter. You don’t even realize how beautiful you are when you’re angry, when you’re worried, when you’re blushing like this."
Yelena groaned softly, her hands weakly pushing at his chest.
"M-Mika...s-stop...you can’t just, just melt me with compliments. I asked you something important..."
But her voice was losing strength. Her protests sounded more like shy whimpers than resistance.
"And the way you look after me?" Mika continued, voice dipping lower, slower, more intoxicating. "The way you put everyone else first. The way you scold me when I overdo it. The way you pretend to be strong and unaffected, even when you’re trembling inside."
"...You’re everything, Yelena. Everything I never knew I needed."
The barrage of intimate, focused love was overwhelming. The crushing weight of her recent humiliation, the terrifying realization of her incestuous desire—it all began to feel distant, hazy, and secondary to the immediate, tangible reality of his adoration.
Her heart, which had been racing with shame, now pounded with an ecstatic, soaring validation. The need for an explanation faded against the need for more of this.
Her hands, which had been pushing weakly at his chest, finally surrendered, curling around his neck. She looked at him, her beautiful, tear-filled eyes now sparkling with a dangerous, hopeful love.
"Mika..." She breathed, her voice breaking.
Her eyes shimmered as they locked with his, tears of something entirely different than before welling up.
"R-Really? Do you really love me...that much?"
He chuckled softly, one hand sliding to rest at the side of her neck, his thumb caressing her lips.
"How could I not?" He said, voice rich with warmth. "You love me. You care for me. You protect me. And you’ve given me everything...even when I didn’t deserve it. Of course I love you, Yelena. I love you more than you’ll ever understand."
That was it. The last wall inside her gave way.
Yelena’s lips trembled as she surged forward, burying herself in his embrace, her arms wrapping around him tightly like she never wanted to let go.
Every ounce of embarrassment and doubt melted under the weight of his affection, and she surrendered, completely, blissfully, to the warmth he offered.
Mika himself was thoroughly satisfied.
He had successfully deflected a deeply incriminating question with nothing more than a few sincere words of affection.
Yet, he wasn’t too surprised.
In the past, no matter how egregious his actions—like the time he’d blown up half of a building during a misguided experiment, he’d managed to escape scot-free.
He simply hugged Yelena, told her he loved her, and that was all it took for her to melt, excuse his actions, and ask no further questions. Yelena’s weakness was absolute devotion to him, and he knew how to exploit it perfectly.