Chapter 114.Each one satisfied-1

“Sure, she’s right here.”

Mylo casually turned the phone around, panning the camera across the dining table.

First, the camera caught Meha, who immediately stood up straight and offered a terrified, military-style salute.

Then, the camera kept panning.

It landed directly on Miss Chloe-beautiful, mature, and currently freezing mid-chew with a forkful of rice in her mouth.

Finally, the camera stopped on Aaina, who was happily gnawing on a chicken drumstick right next to Mylo.

Silence stretched through the phone speaker. A thick, heavy, absolute silence.

Mylo realized his mistake exactly one second too late.

“MYLO ZANE!”

His mother’s voice exploded from the phone so loudly the speaker actually crackled. Mylo winced, yanking the phone away from his ear.

“Who is that woman?!” his mother shrieked, her face turning red on the screen. “And who is that child?! I send you to college for ONE WEEK, and you suddenly have a wife and a teenager?!”

Chloe dropped her fork. It clattered loudly against the porcelain plate.

“Not again!” Chloe whispered in sheer horror, burying her face in her hands.

“Mom, it’s not what it looks like!” Mylo scrambled, trying to point the camera back at his own face.

“Don’t you lie to me!” his mother roared, completely ignoring him. “I hired Meha to protect you from bad habits, and instead, you bring a strange older woman into your home?! Meha! Explain yourself!”

Meha jumped as if she had been electrocuted.

“I tried to stop him, Madam!” Meha cried out, leaning into the camera’s view. “But his sickness for older women was too strong! I firmly protected my own chastity, but he brought this mistress home anyway!”

“MEHA, SHUT UP!” Mylo roared.

“I AM TWENTY-EIGHT!” Chloe screamed at the phone, her professional dignity shattering all over again. “I AM HIS TEACHER!”

“A TEACHER?!” his mother gasped, clutching her chest as if she was having a heart attack. “You seduced your teacher?! Mylo, I raised you better than this! And whose child is that?! Are you playing step-father at eighteen?!”

Aaina, realizing exactly what was happening, decided to strike again.

She leaned right into the phone’s camera, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Hi, Grandma!” Aaina waved cheerfully, her mouth still covered in chicken grease. “Daddy says I have his eyes!”

Chloe let out a strangled, hopeless groan and rested her forehead against the dining table.

“Aaina, I swear to God, I will throw you out the window,” Mylo hissed, frantically trying to cover the camera lens with his hand.

“Don’t you dare threaten your child!” his mother screamed. “I am taking the next train down there! I am going to march into that apartment, beat you with a broomstick, and take my granddaughter shopping!”

“MOM, DO THE MATH!” Mylo yelled over the speaker, his voice cracking with absolute desperation. “I AM EIGHTEEN! SHE IS FOURTEEN! HOW COULD I BE HER FATHER?!”

That stopped her.

On the screen, his mother blinked. She furrowed her brows, doing the mental calculations.

“…Oh,” his mom muttered, her fierce expression faltering.

“Yes! Oh!” Mylo sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. “She is the building caretaker’s granddaughter! Her name is Aaina! She lives downstairs!”

“Then who is the woman crying on your dining table?” his mom asked, her tone dropping from ‘furious tiger mom’ to ‘highly suspicious detective’.

“I am not crying,” Chloe mumbled into the wood of the table, entirely defeated.

“She is Miss Chloe Vane. She is the Deputy Head of Discipline at my college,” Mylo explained, enunciating every single word carefully. “She helped me buy groceries today because I didn’t know how. I invited her to dinner to say thank you. That is it. No secret wives. No step-children.”

His mother squinted at the screen, looking from Mylo to the deeply embarrassed teacher.

“…She is very pretty, Mylo,” his mother noted bluntly.

Chloe’s head snapped up, her face turning a magnificent, boiling shade of crimson.

“Mom, please, I am begging you,” Mylo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Just hang up the phone.”

“I am not hanging up,” his mother ordered, her tone shifting back to absolute authority. “If they are eating my son’s food, I at least want to speak to them. Put the maid on first.”

Mylo sighed, sliding the phone across the table to Meha.

Meha grabbed it with both hands, staring into the screen like it was a live explosive.

“Madam! I assure you, the kitchen is spotless!” Meha reported loudly. “I have not allowed any impure thoughts to enter the premises!”

“Just make sure he eats his greens, Meha,” his mother sighed. “And stop talking about his chastity in front of his teachers.”

“Understood, Madam!” Meha nodded furiously, sliding the phone toward Aaina.

Aaina instantly dropped the bratty act, flashing a blinding, angelic smile at the camera.

“Hi, Auntie!” Aaina chirped sweetly. “The food is really yummy! Thank you for letting me eat here!”

“Oh, she’s adorable,” his mom cooed, entirely charmed. “Mylo, you better not be bullying that sweet girl.”

“She’s a menace in disguise,” Mylo grumbled under his breath.

“Now,” his mother’s voice sharpened slightly. “Give the phone to Miss Chloe. I want to speak to her.”

Mylo immediately reached out and grabbed his phone back.

“Absolutely not,” Mylo said flatly. “You’ve caused enough damage for one night, Mom. I’m hanging up.”

“Mylo Zane, you hand that phone over right this second!” she scolded loudly. “Or so help me, I will call the Dean myself and ask him how your grades are!”

Mylo groaned, rubbing his temples. He looked over at Chloe, offering an apologetic grimace as he extended the phone toward her.

Chloe took a deep breath, smoothing her skirt as she accepted the device.

The absolute second the phone was in her hands, she tapped the screen, cutting the video feed and switching it to a regular voice call. She couldn’t handle his mother seeing her flushed face anymore.

Chloe stood up from the table, taking a few steps toward the living room for a little privacy.

“Hello, Mrs. Zane,” Chloe said, her voice perfectly polite and composed. “I really must apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“No, dear, I should be apologizing,” his mother’s voice came through the speaker, suddenly entirely stripped of its overbearing volume. It sounded warm, and unexpectedly soft. “I know my son is a handful.”

Chloe glanced back at the dining table. Mylo was currently trying to pry a piece of chicken away from Aaina with his chopsticks.

“He has his moments,” Chloe smiled softly.

“I know he acts tough, Miss Chloe. He likes to pretend he doesn’t need anyone,” his mother said, her voice turning sentimental. “But moving to a new city… living on his own… I worry about him.”

Chloe’s heart squeezed slightly. She held the phone a little closer.

“Thank you,” his mother continued quietly. “Thank you for helping him buy groceries. Thank you for looking out for him. Please… keep an eye on my boy for me.”