God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem-Chapter 609: Failure Of A Mother

"I'm glad he's settled in, Abi, really glad."

Olivia said, her calm tone cracking slightly with relief.

"I thought for sure he'd struggle to adjust to this new life, especially after how hard it was for him in the city."

"...Back then, he pushed everyone away, everything away—me, you, the world. So, to hear his new environment's accepted him fully...It's good. Better than I'd hoped."

She paused, a heavy silence stretching across the line, as if her mind had drifted back to a shadowed past, her current distance from Kafka weighing on her.

Then, in a wry, almost bitter tone, she added,

"And as much as I want to come back and see him...I wonder if I should."

"...Maybe I should just stay here in the city—let you and Kafi have your peace without me stirring things up."

Abigaille's dark blue eyes widened, her frustration flaring as her heavy breasts bounced with the sharp jerk of her body, her grip tightening on the phone.

"What are you talking about, Olivia?!"

She snapped, her voice rising with exasperation and hurt as she leaned forward, her free hand slapping the couch for emphasis.

"Why're you saying things like that...like we don't want you back? We've been dying to see you again both of us! Don't you dare act like we wouldn't!"

Her gaze flicked to Kafka, sprawled smugly beside her, his hand still guiding Bella's head as she kissed his tip with soft, passionate reverence, her lips brushing his cock in quiet devotion.

The absurdity of the moment—Olivia's self-doubt clashing with the steamy scene unfolding only fueled Abigaille's protective fire.

Olivia's voice came back, steady but tinged with a faint melancholy.

"Well, i-it's just...When I was with you both, Kafi was always so troubled. He pushed us away—me especially and he lived in his own little bubble, brooding up in that room of his."

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"...He never treated us like family back then, Abi, he was struggling so much, and I couldn't reach him no matter what I did."

Her words hung heavy, pulling Abigaille's mind back to those distant days—Kafka as a troubled young man, holed up in his room, his door locked tight, his brooding silence a wall she and Olivia could never breach.

She remembered the late nights, the unanswered knocks, the way he'd shrink from their touch, his world a dark, solitary fortress.

Olivia continued, her tone growing hesitant, almost fragile.

"But now...hearing he's changed, I can't help but think, maybe it's because I'm not there anymore. Maybe my absence is what let him bloom. Maybe I was such a bad mother that he only acted out because I was around since I was too caught up in work, too distant."

"...What if I'm the reason he was like that?"

Her voice wavered, a rare crack in her icy shell, and Kafka's brow lifted, his hand pausing on Bella's head as he registered her words, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

The truth was he hadn't met his second mother, Olivia...not in this life, not really.

He wasn't the original Kafka, after all, he'd transmigrated into this body, waking up one day in a world he hadn't built, with memories that weren't his own.

But Abigaille had filled in the gaps, her stories painting a vivid picture of his past with Olivia.

Apparently, she'd been a ghost in his life back then—always at work, building her real estate empire from the ground up, a relentless force who turned a college gig into a thriving agency that raked in millions.

It was her blood, sweat, and tears...But it came at a cost.

She was rarely home, her days swallowed by deals and disputes, leaving Abigaille to raise him alone. Olivia had wanted to be close craved it, even but her business demanded her, and every missed dinner, every absent hug, had widened the chasm between her and her son.

Eventually, she'd convinced herself he hated her for it, that her absence was a failure she could never undo, a regret that gnawed at her even now and why she felt that leaving them alone was the best choice she could make as his mother.

Hearing this, Abigaille's face twisted with indignation, her sweet nature giving way to a fierce, protective scolding as she cut Olivia off.

"What are you talking about, Olivia?! You're talking like a crazy person—stop it right now!"

Her voice cracked with emotion, her hands flailing as she leaned closer to the phone, her breasts bouncing with the force of her outburst.

"Kafi loves you no matter what! He understands your struggles, knows everything you've done is for him for us! Don't you dare say you're a bad mother—don't you dare! You've fought tooth and nail for this family, and he gets that he always has!"

Olivia tried to interject, her voice a faint murmur, "Abi, I just—" but Abigaille barreled over her, her tone sharp and unrelenting.

"No, you.be quiet! Don't you speak bad about yourself again, you hear me? You're not some failure—you're his mom, and he misses you like crazy! All you need to do is finish that damn work and get your butt back home so you can see it for yourself! See how much he wants you here!"

"...Stop this nonsense about staying away, it's breaking my heart, and his too!"

Kafka's smirk softened, his hand resting lightly on Bella's head as she paused her kissing, her lips hovering over his tip as she glanced up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity at the raised voices.

He then gave her a small nod, urging her to continue, and she resumed with a soft lick, her tongue tracing his shaft as he listened, his mind turning over Olivia's words.

He didn't have the original Kafka's memories, but Abigaille's stories had painted a clear enough picture—Olivia's guilt, her distance, the way she'd blamed herself for his old self's brooding isolation.

He didn't know if the old Kafka hated his mother or not. But he was sure that the current him surely didn't have any sort of negative emotion towards her,.as all he could was a parent working her hardest to provide for her child and there was no way in hell that he could hate such a devoted mother.

Olivia's voice came back, reluctant and subdued, as if Abigaille's tirade had worn her down.

"Alright, Abi, alright. I'll...I'll focus on wrapping things up. I'll come back soon, if I can. But I still wonder..."

She trailed off, her tone heavy with doubt, like she couldn't shake the belief that Kafka resented her, that her absence had been his salvation and her presence his curse.

Abigaille huffed, her voice softening but firm as she shot Kafka a quick, pleading look.

"No wondering—just come home, Olivia. You'll see he's waiting for you. We all are." Her eyes darted to Bella, still quietly sucking Kafka's cock, her lips moving with a devoted care that made Abigaille's breath hitch, a flush creeping up her neck as she turned back to the phone. "...H-He's doing so good—better than ever. You'll be proud, I promise."

She then paused, then lit up with a sudden idea, her voice rising with excitement.

"In fact, you should talk to him right now! Let him tell you himself—show you he doesn't think what you're afraid he does. He loves you, Olivia, truly—let me give him the phone!"

She reached to hand it over, her hand trembling with anticipation, but before she could, Olivia's voice erupted through the speaker—sharp, frantic, the most emotion she'd shown yet.

"No—don't! Abi, please, don't do that!" Her words tumbled out in a panicked rush, her usual icy composure shattering. "I-I'm not ready to talk to him—I can't! Not right now...I-I'm scared, alright? I don't want to hear it!"

Abigaille froze, her brows knitting as she pulled the phone back, her voice firm with confusion and insistence.

"Olivia, what are you saying? It's not like you think it's not like he's going to say he hates you or anything! Stop avoiding him like this—you always do! Every time his name comes up, you run off, dodge it like he's some stranger."

"...He's your son, he loves you, and you need to hear it!"

Olivia's breath trembled audibly, her tone trembling as she persisted, her guilt spilling out.

"I-I can't, Abi...I really can't. I feel too guilty—too ashamed. When I think about facing him...What if he does say it? What if he tells me he hates me?...It's my worst nightmare, I couldn't bear it." Her voice cracked, raw and unsteady. "I'll—I'll talk to him when I come back, I promise. I won't run then, I'll try to make up for everything. Just...not now."

Hearing this, Abigaille sighed, a deep, frustrated sound as she slumped back, her hand loosening on the phone.

"Fine, fine, Olivia. I know how hard this is for you, how you struggle with all this...But you're promising, alright? When you're home, you'll face him."

She relented, her sweet nature bending under the weight of Olivia's plea, though her eyes flickered with concern. Then, a thought struck her, and her tone shifted to one of worry.

"But wait—leaving Kafi aside for a second, why'd you call in the first place? Is something wrong? Tell me don't brush it off."

Olivia hesitated, caught off guard, her voice smoothing back to its monotone as if nothing had happened.

"What're you talking about, Abi? I just...wanted to hear your voice, see what's going on at home. That's all—no big reason."

Her words were casual, too casual, and Abigaille's eyes narrowed, her intuition flaring.

"No, don't give me that." Abigaille shot back, her voice firm as she leaned closer to the phone, her breasts bouncing with the motion. "I know you, Olivia, I can hear it in your tone. You're not just calling to chat. Something's up, so what're you hiding? What's worrying you?"

"...Tell me right now since I'm not letting this slide!"

The line went silent, a heavy pause that confirmed Abigaille's suspicions, and Kafka's gaze sharpened, his hand pausing on Bella's ass as he caught the shift.

He'd been wondering the same—Olivia's earlier pause, her reluctance—it wasn't just guilt about him. Something else was gnawing at her.

He tapped Bella's shoulder, murmuring low, "Hold up, Bella." and she pulled back, her lips glistening as she looked up at him, her blue eyes wide with curiosity about the family feud as she wiped her mouth, the sucking halted for now.

Olivia's voice returned, softer, almost resigned.

"I really can't hide anything from you, can I, Abi?" She exhaled, a faint tremor in her breath as she continued. "Well, the thing is, it's just a...a little struggle at work and I don't know how to get past it."

"...I've even thought about going to the police, but I'm not sure there's no clear case, no way to make it stick. It's messy."

Abigaille's eyes widened, shock rippling through her as she opened her mouth to demand more

"Police? Olivia, what's—"

But before she could finish, Kafka who couldn't wait anymore reached over, his hand swift and steady as he plucked the phone from her grasp, his voice cutting through the air with a calm, composed authority.

"Mom...It's Kafka speaking."

The moment he uttered those words, the line went dead silent, then erupted with Olivia's flustered stammer.

"K-Kafi...W-When did you—...Kafi?!"

Her cold demeanor dissolved into a mess of confusion, her voice trembling as she fumbled.

"I—uh—what—how—"

She sounded like a startled girl, not the steely woman who became a real estate mogul, and Kafka's lips twitched into a faint smirk as he leaned back, his tone even and soothing.

"Calm down, Mom, there's no need to panic. Just breathe and explain what's happening. I've been listening this whole time."

His voice was a stark contrast to the erratic, shouting Kafka she'd known in the past—composed now, steady, a balm to her frayed nerves.

And hearing his voice, her breathing slowed, his calm seeping through the line, and she murmured, hesitant and shaky,

"I-I'm sorry, Kafi. The first thing we talk about in months, and it's this...I should've called sooner."

"It's fine, Mom..." He said, his tone warm and forgiving as he waved off her apology. "Don't worry about it, I'm not mad. I heard what you said earlier, and Mom's right—you don't need to feel bad about anything. I don't hold the past against you."

His words puzzled her, stirring a flicker of hope as she wondered if he truly didn't resent her, but before she could respond, his voice grew solemn, his eyes darkening.

"More than that, though—what's going on with you? What's so serious that you're talking about the police? Tell me right now."

She hesitated, her voice tight with reluctance..

"No, Kafi—I can't. It's...It's an adult matter. I won't drag you into it—you're still my kid, and I can handle it alone...I thought I could, anyway."

She hoped that'd end it, expecting the old Kafka—distant, apathetic to drop it like he always had.

But his voice shifted, sharp and unyielding as he leaned forward, his hand pressing Bella's head down harder, her lips stretching around his cock with a sudden, aggressive thrust that made her gasp softly.

"I'm not asking, Mom...I'm demanding."

He said, his tone brooking no refusal, dark and authoritative.

"As your son, as part of this family, I care about you, I want to make sure nothing happens to you."

"...So, you better start explaining right now, or I swear I'll drive up there tonight and make you tell me face-to-face."

Abigaille's eyes widened, concern flashing as she opened her mouth to intervene, "Kafi, easy—"

But before she could finish, his free hand slid to her neck, gentle but firm, guiding her head down toward his cock beside Bella. His gaze locked on hers, dark and intense, a silent command that left no room for protest.

She flushed, embarrassment flooding her as Olivia's voice crackled through the speaker, but his eyes—gloomy, resolute pinned her in place.

So, with a shaky breath, she relented, her lips parting as she joined Bella, sucking his tip with fervent, flustered urgency, her tongue brushing against Bella's as they took turns.

"Mmmph!♡~ Ahhh!♡~ Nnn!♡~ Suck!♡~"

"Slurp!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Ahh!♡~ Nnn! ♡~"

Olivia faltered, her composure crumbling under his tone—stronger, more commanding than any man she'd ever faced.

"F-Fine..." She stammered, her reluctance giving way to his authority. "I'll tell you...J-Just don't take it too seriously as it's my problem to work over."

Her voice trembled, caught off guard by this new Kafka, a son she barely recognized yet couldn't resist.

Hearing her submission, Kafka's smirk returned, his hands guiding both women as they sucked, their lips working his cock in tandem—Bella's soft laps, his mother''s fervent pulls, while he growled low.

"Good...Start talking, Mom...I'm all ears."

The room pulsed with a strange, erotic mix—Olivia's confession looming, the wet sounds of their devotion muffled beneath his command, and Kafka's unwavering resolve binding it all together...