Diane stood up and walked toward the door. When I didn’t immediately follow, she looked over her shoulder, one perfect eyebrow raised in question.

"Are you coming?" Her voice carried that Southern warmth with a sharp edge underneath.

I sat frozen for a second, mind racing through every possible outcome of what "coming with her" actually meant. The blanket still covered my lap, hiding evidence of what had just happened with both her and Sloane within minutes of each other.

"Yeah," I said, finding my voice. "Yeah, I’m coming."

She extended her hand toward me, fingers splayed in invitation. Not a suggestion. A requirement.

I took it. Her grip tightened the moment our skin connected, as if she thought I might bolt. Smart woman. I’d considered it.

Diane led me through the hallway, her silk nightgown whispering against her skin with each step. The house was quiet. Sloane’s door was closed, light visible underneath. Probably texting someone about what just happened. Or plotting my murder. Both seemed equally possible.

We reached Diane’s bedroom at the end of the hall. I’d never been inside before. Nine years living in this house and her room remained the one space I’d never entered. She pushed the door open and pulled me inside.

Click.

The lock engaged behind us.

Her bedroom was exactly what I’d expected—tasteful, expensive, spotless. California king bed with enough pillows to suffocate a small army. Art on the walls that probably cost more than a car.

Diane sat on the edge of the bed, silk nightgown riding up her thighs. She crossed her legs, looking perfectly composed despite everything that had just happened downstairs.

"Come here," she said.

I stepped forward until I stood directly in front of her. Close enough that she had to look up to maintain eye contact.

"Take off your shirt."

My heart slammed against my ribs. "What?"

"Your shirt. Take it off."

I pulled my t-shirt over my head, dropping it on the floor beside me. Her gaze traveled across my chest, assessing. I wasn’t built like a superhero—not yet—but the training with Sloane had already started changing me. More definition. Less skinny kid, more lean muscle.

"Why did you touch me?" Diane asked, voice casual like she was asking about the weather. "Don’t you like my daughter?"

The question hit like a truck. Direct. Unexpected. Pure Diane.

"Because it looked like you needed that," I said, surprising myself with the honesty.

"Oh?" Her lips curved into something between a smile and a challenge. "How do you know what a woman needs?"

I shrugged, maintaining eye contact despite every instinct screaming to look away. "You work your ass off for us and have to be professional in the outside world. You deal with a bunch of egotistical heroes and deadlines and do it with a smile. You looked stressed. I wanted to relieve you of that."

"Hm." She tilted her head slightly, pink hair falling across one eye. "So it was strictly just to help?"

"I—"

"Don’t lie to me."

Her Aspect flashed in her eyes. Read the Room. She would know. She would feel whatever emotional state I was projecting right now.

I hesitated, weighing my options. Twelve percent chance of successfully lying to her, the System had said. Terrible odds.

"I have a hypothesis about my powers," I said finally. "They only manifested when Sloane and I had a physical encounter during training. The more intimate we’ve been, the more powerful I’ve become." I swallowed hard. "I was testing to see if it works on anyone or if Sloane was just special."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She knew there was more.

"Plus you look irresistible right now," I added.

"Oh yeah?" Diane uncrossed her legs slowly. "Do I look irresistible to you, Lukas?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Her gaze dropped to my sweatpants, where my erection strained against the fabric, obvious and impossible to hide.

She chuckled. "Seems like your body can’t lie at all."

Diane leaned back slightly, parting her legs. The silk nightgown fell open between her thighs, revealing lace panties soaked through with arousal.

〘 Main Quest: Man Of The House

Description: Diane Fitzgerald has taken a direct interest in your physical development. Satisfy her needs and earn your place in the household hierarchy.

Objective: Bring Diane to climax within the next 30 minutes.

Bonus Objective: Make her scream your name.

Reward: 750 SP, 1 Epic Pull Ticket, Increased household standing

Bonus Reward: 250 SP, Permanent +2 to all physical attributes

Failure: Status reset to "Guest" in household dynamics

Time Limit: 30:00 〙

The notification hovered in my vision, bright and impossible to ignore. A Main Quest. Not a side quest. Not optional.

The System wasn’t giving me a choice this time.

"I can see you thinking," Diane said, breaking through my thoughts. "Always calculating. Always planning." She reached forward, hooking one finger into the waistband of my sweatpants. "Stop thinking so much."

She pulled me closer. One step. Then I was standing between her legs, the silk of her gown brushing against my sweatpants.

"Nine years," she murmured, her voice softer now, almost thoughtful. "Nine years I’ve watched you grow up in my house. Watched you turn from that quiet eight-year-old into... this." Her fingers traced up my bare chest slowly, deliberately, mapping the contours with a touch that was both clinical and intimate. "And now you’ve manifested your Aspect. Now everything’s changing, isn’t it?"

Her hands were hot against my skin. There was no hesitation in her touch, no uncertainty. This was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing, who had made her decision before she’d ever called me into this room.

"This is wrong," I said. The words came out rougher than I intended. I didn’t step back.

"Is it?" She tilted her head slightly, studying me with those sharp blue eyes that missed nothing. "You’re not my blood, Lukas. Not my ward in any official capacity. Reina asked me to take you in. I did. But you’re seventeen now. Old enough to make your own choices." Her hands slid higher, over my shoulders. "Old enough to want things you’re not supposed to want."

She pulled me down. My face came level with hers. Close enough that I could see the faint lines at the corners of her eyes, the pink flush spreading across her cheeks.

"And you touched me first," she whispered.

===

〘Traore’s Thoughts〙

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!