Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 1052: Hot MILF’s Interview

Returning with a glass of water in one hand and a fresh pour of red wine in the other, she topped up her own drink. This small domestic act was a subtle confession, signaling her decision, whether conscious or not, that handling the divine teenager in her living room would necessitate some form of assistance.

After handing him the water, she gracefully sank onto the low couch opposite him, tucking her bare feet beneath her. She settled in with that natural, fluid elegance characteristic of women who live independently, completely at ease in her own surroundings and inhabiting her sultry physique.

The cream silk blouse shifted with her movements, its neckline parting to reveal a tantalizing sliver more, offering the soft lamplight a new opportunity to linger on the warm cleavage between her full breasts.

Taking a slow sip of her wine, she observed him over the rim of the glass, her gray eyes alight with a blend of curiosity and amusement.

"So," she began, her lips curling into a playful smile that hinted at the upcoming interview between a daughter and her mother, "tell me about yourself. I’ve never actually had to interview one of my daughter’s boyfriends before. This feels rather... formal."

"I’ll endeavor to make it simple for you."

"Oh, please don’t," she retorted, her tone playfully bantering rather than stiffly formal, which might create discomfort. "If I’m going on record for the very first time, I want the complete experience. ."

She smiled once more—the kind of refined, captivating smile that indicated she wielded charm like a precisely sharpened scalpel. "What is your name?"

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her full, beautifully swollen lips parted in genuine astonishment as the name settled between them, reminiscent of a forgotten romance novel.

"Eros... Velmior... Desiderion?" she echoed slowly, savoring each syllable as if it were a fine wine. A soft, disbelieving laugh escaped her. "That is the most exquisitely beautiful, unique, and utterly mad—mad in a good way—name I have ever encountered."

"It sounds like you ought to arrive with your own theme music and a . Did your parents perhaps lose a bet with a romance novelist?" Her imaginative mind had made the leap without conscious direction.

She shook her head, her smile unwavering, a stray strand of honey-blonde hair brushing against her flushed cheek. "Forgive me, that was impolite. It’s simply... extraordinary. I anticipated something common, like Ethan or Liam. Not a name that evokes a dark prince from celestial realms, destined to capture hearts."

A small, amused smile touched his lips.

She took another sip of wine, clearly struggling—and failing—to conceal how profoundly the name had thrown her off balance, in the most delightful way. "Very well, Eros Velmior Desiderion," she continued, elongating the name again with playful emphasis, "what exactly do you do? Besides cruising through tranquil Malibu neighborhoods at night and appearing on the doorsteps of unsuspecting strangers like a fairy tale delivered by surprise?"

"I attend school. And I manage a technology startup. We've licensed several software products to firms you would likely recognize. It covers my expenses."

Her eyebrow arched, amusement evident. "What sort of expenses does a seventeen-year-old even incur?"

"Fewer than you might imagine. More than you would anticipate."

"That's hardly a direct answer."

He responded with a shrug and a playful grin that held a surprising amount of charm.

A soft, genuine, and unexpectedly warm laugh bubbled from her—the sound of a woman who hadn't anticipated enjoying this interaction at all.

"And your family?" she inquired, still smiling, though her gaze frequently returned to his face, as if she were still processing that impossibly noble name.

"A large family, but the immediate circle is small. My mother, my aunt, and my two stepsisters. My women." He noted the slight widening of her eyes at the phrasing and smoothly added, "Meaning my mother, my aunt, and my sisters. I was adopted... I felt it pertinent to mention. Character development, you understand."

She nodded slowly, one eyebrow still raised. "More or less?"

"That entails a narrative too extensive for this particular conversation."

"Is it a sorrowful tale?"

"The conclusion was more favorable than anything else. They make me feel cherished."

"Then it cannot be a sad story," she stated plainly.

"By that definition? No."

She observed him for a moment over the rim of her wine glass, then tilted her head, loose honey-blonde locks slipping against her cheek. "How is it that I've never heard mention of you? Ashley confided everything to me. She paused, a small, self-deprecating laugh escaping her. "She used to. She's been somewhat withdrawn recently. I attributed it to the stress of college applications."

"It's not related to college applications."

"Evidently not."

"I haven't been the most attentive boyfriend over the past week," he confessed.

This remark captured her complete focus. Her brow lifted as she lowered her wine glass.

My intention was to make her believe our past encounter might have been a singular event. I deliberately maintained a distance and offered unresponsive reactions when I should have been present. This wasn't planned—circumstances spiraled beyond my ability to articulate—yet the outcome remained constant. For a full week, she questioned whether the person to whom she had revealed her deepest vulnerabilities had genuinely meant any of it.

Her facial expression shifted into that perfect maternal mode, softening with evident concern while simultaneously sharpening with an instinct to protect. She possessed an innate ability to sense her daughter’s unspoken sadness, even without a single word being uttered.

"Did you—"

She caught herself mid-sentence, seeking a more tactful approach. "Have you two—"

He let out a chuckle, alleviating her potential discomfort. "No. It hasn't progressed that far. We haven't taken that step."

A subtle release of tension, perhaps half an inch, registered in her shoulders. Yet, another element of her expression remained unchanged—a gaze that was both curious, watchful, and tinged with an almost imperceivable warmth. He took note of both observations and filed them away.

she said, her voice gentle.

"I'm here to offer my apologies," he continued. "And to rectify the situation from the past week. And " he paused, locking eyes with her,

She blinked, then emitted a soft, disbelieving laugh. "Her mother’s approval?

"Is there a distinction?"

She studied him for a prolonged moment, took another slow sip of her wine, and then placed the glass on the side table with a gesture of precise, deliberate finality. It was clear she was carefully deciding the extent to which she would permit this dangerously captivating young man—with his incredibly striking, albeit somewhat dramatic, name—to overstep within her own home.

"My approval," she stated, tilting her head slightly, a playful smirk gracing her lips, making them appear even more alluring. "Will be entirely contingent upon Ashley’s. Should she offer you forgiveness, then I shall. Conversely, if she does not, my own will be withheld. Your objective was to apologize—the success of that endeavor rests solely between the two of you."

"That is correct. Indeed."

"So, then." She shifted forward slightly, resting her elbows upon her knees.

This movement caused the lustrous cream silk blouse to stretch tautly across her ample curves. The delicate fabric cascaded and adhered enticingly in all the most flattering areas as her full breasts swayed gently with her subtle shift. The dip of the neckline lowered fractionally, offering the warm ambient light a renewed glimpse of smooth, alluring cleavage.

Her grey eyes gleamed with an unmistakable hint of amusement. "In the meantime. Enlighten me more about yourself. Utilize this opportunity to—what is the appropriate term—