God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem - Chapter 846

Chapter 846: Too Wholesome To Interrupt

Ever since Lyra had become best friends with Bella, both their lives had changed in quiet, beautiful ways.

Before Lyra came along, Bella’s days were quiet, too quiet. She rarely left the house, never went out to meet people, and would hide behind polite excuses whenever someone invited her somewhere.

She was painfully introverted because of the betrayal that happened by her friends and became the kind of girl who could spend hours sitting by the window just thinking, afraid of what might happen if she stepped too far outside her comfort zone.

She had her mother, and that was enough—or so she thought.

She would follow Camilla everywhere, help her with chores, and sit beside her while she worked. It had reached the point where Camilla, as much as she loved having her daughter close, began to worry.

As for Camila, she was grateful beyond words that her daughter wanted to be near her, after all, there had been a time when Bella wouldn’t even look her in the eye. As a teenager, Bella had been distant, cold, refusing to open up about anything.

It had broken Camilla’s heart then, so to see her daughter now attached and gentle, always by her side, felt like healing. Yet at the same time, she knew it wasn’t right for Bella to keep her world so small.

“Sweetheart.” She would often say, stroking her daughter’s hair as they sipped tea together. “You need people your own age. You need friends. People to laugh with, to talk to, to share things I can’t.”

But Bella always smiled, shaking her head softly. “I don’t need anyone else, Mom. I’m fine with just you and our family.”

No matter how many times Camilla tried to insist, suggesting she join a club, volunteer, or even attend one of the small local gatherings, Bella always found a way to refuse.

Eventually, Camilla gave up on pushing, though she prayed her daughter would one day find someone she could open her heart to.

That chance came unexpectedly, thanks to Kafka.

He had introduced Lyra into the picture with the simple intention of giving Bella someone to talk to, a gentle nudge, nothing more. He’d thought Lyra’s extroverted, friendly nature might help Bella feel comfortable around someone new.

What he didn’t anticipate was how quickly and deeply the two would bond.

From the first day they met, Bella and Lyra seemed to click like puzzle pieces that had been waiting for each other all along. Bella, who had always kept her distance from strangers, was suddenly talking, laughing, and even dragging Lyra into her hobbies. And Lyra, social, extroverted, and full of curiosity, fit into Bella’s rhythm as if she’d been there forever.

But the one who was happiest of all was Camilla.

When she found out her daughter had made a close friend, she was overjoyed. It was everything she’d wanted, to see Bella smiling with someone her own age, someone who could understand her on a level even a mother couldn’t. And when she learned that of her new friend was Lyra, she immediately invited her over.

When Lyra came to visit for the first time, Camilla welcomed her with all the warmth she possessed. She opened the door with a smile that could have lit the entire house, pulled the girl into her arms before she could even speak, and immediately started fussing over her.

She fed her until she couldn’t eat another bite, complimented her endlessly, and insisted she stay as long as she wanted.

From that day onward, Camilla treated Lyra like her own daughter—though she never consciously realized just how much that love meant.

To Lyra, who had never known what it was like to have a parent, Camilla’s affection was overwhelming.

The warmth of her voice, the way she brushed her fingers through Lyra’s hair, the patient way she listened when she spoke, it was everything Lyra had dreamed of as a child.

Sometimes she would sit quietly at the kitchen table, just watching Camilla and Bella talk and laugh, and feel a deep ache in her chest—not out of pain, but from the sweetness of finally having what she thought she’d never find.

Of course, she kept those feelings to herself. She didn’t want to seem strange or selfish. So she simply came to visit often, sometimes to see Bella, sometimes—if she was being honest with herself, just to see Camilla.

Over time, those visits became part of their lives. Camilla always welcomed her with open arms, Bella adored her like a sister, and Lyra cherished them both more than she could ever say. They were a family in everything but name.

Then came the night that changed everything.

It had been one of their late-night bonding sessions, snacks, a few glasses of wine, and endless laughter. They were talking about childhood memories when, in a tipsy haze, Lyra blurted out:

“You know, Miss Camila…sometimes I think how nice it would be if I were your real daughter too. If I was born into this family as well. I’d probably be the most happiest girl in the world.”

Of course the moment she uttered those words, she froze. Her cheeks turned pink, and even in her drunken haze, Lyra realized what she had said. Her eyes widened, and she began apologizing over and over.

“Oh my God, I didn’t mean it like that, I mean, I did, but I shouldn’t have said it, please don’t be mad—”

But Camilla had only smiled softly.

“Then let’s do it.” She said.

The words silenced both girls.

Lyra blinked, confused. “D…Do what?”

“Let’s make it official.” Camilla said calmly, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’ll adopt you, Lyra.”

Lyra’s jaw dropped. “Wait, You, you can’t be serious—”

But she was.

The very next day, Camilla went to speak with Seraphina, Lyra’s older sister, to ask her permission. She then filed the paperwork, signed every document herself, and by evening, Lyra was holding an official certificate that read her new full name: Lyra Alvarez, taking on Camila’s surname.

When Camilla handed her the papers and smiled that soft, motherly smile, Lyra couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She burst into tears.

Loud, uncontrollable sobs shook her shoulders as she clutched the papers to her chest. The neighbors probably thought something terrible had happened.

Bella panicked and tried to calm her down, Camilla hugged her tight, and together they spent the entire afternoon just holding her until the tears finally ran dry.

From that day on, Lyra wasn’t just a guest or a friend—she was family.

And though she’d struggled to call Camilla ‘Mom’ at first, every time the word left her lips now, it felt right. Natural. Whole.

But even now, after months, she still cried whenever Camilla did something motherly for her, a hug, a braid, a few gentle words of comfort. She’d tear up, blush, try to hide it, but everyone knew.

That’s why they teased her, lovingly calling her their ‘little crybaby.’

And Lyra never argued, because deep down, she knew it was true. She was a crybaby, one overflowing with love, gratitude, and joy.

She’d finally found her mother, her sister, her family, and her home…And for her, that was everything.

As for her relationship with Kafka, well—that was an entirely different story.

Anyone who knew Kafka might’ve assumed that, given enough time, Lyra would eventually fall under his spell.

After all, he had a way of charming nearly every woman who came within ten feet of him, whether intentionally or not. His presence, his confidence, that effortless magnetism, it always drew people in.

And now that he’d been living with the family full-time, it seemed only natural that Lyra, like the others, might eventually be swept into his orbit.

But to everyone’s quiet surprise, that never happened.

From the moment Kafka met Lyra, their dynamic had been…different.

There was something about her that didn’t fall into his usual rhythm. She wasn’t nervous around him, didn’t flirt, didn’t blush or stumble over her words. She was chill, grounded, relaxed, and genuine.

Talking to her felt easy, like catching up with an old friend over coffee.

In fact, she was probably the only woman in the house with whom Kafka could talk freely without worrying about charm, tension, or expectations.

With Lyra, there was no need for pretense or calculated phrasing, she gave her thoughts unfiltered, blunt but caring, and he found it refreshing.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t charming or beautiful.

Lyra was striking in her own right: bright, confident, the kind of person who naturally drew people in with her energy. She was extroverted and quick to laugh, almost the perfect opposite of Bella, whose quiet, introverted nature kept her tucked close to home.

But to Kafka, Lyra wasn’t another woman to seduce—she was a buddy, a companion he could unwind with.

If he wanted peace, conversation, or even someone to play a few games with or complain about his day, Lyra was there. They’d often sit together on the porch or out in the garden, sharing stories and drinks. And unlike most of the women in his life, she’d call him out directly if he said something stupid.

“Really, Kafka?” She’d laugh, rolling her eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard.”

And he’d grin, loving every moment of the honesty.

At one point, Bella had even joked. “Shouldn’t Lyra be calling you Daddy too, since Mom is Daddy’s women?”

That comment had sent Lyra’s face scarlet.

“Absolutely not!” She’d said immediately, flailing her arms. “Don’t even say that, Bella!”

Kafka had chuckled, hands raised in surrender.

“Yeah, no thanks. Let’s not make this family tree more confusing than it already is.”

And they had both agreed it was better that way, keeping their friendship simple, untainted by titles or expectations.

Still…recently, Kafka couldn’t help but notice something odd recently.

Every now and then, he’d catch Lyra looking at him with a strange, fleeting expression, something soft, maybe thoughtful, maybe curious. He couldn’t quite place it, and every time he tried to, she’d notice and quickly look away, pretending nothing had happened.

He decided to ignore it. For now, at least.

And similarly he decided to ignore this scene in front of him and not bother them anymore.

Right now, he’d stumbled upon a deeply emotional scene—Camilla, Bella, and Lyra hugging each other after Lyra’s heartfelt tears, and barging in to ask for a favor would’ve made him look like the worst kind of jerk.

So he just sighed quietly and turned away, muttering under his breath.

“Guess I struck out again, huh? Didn’t even try this time.”

He started to walk off, but as he did, Bella’s voice came out behind him.

“Wait…isn’t that Daddy?” She asked, tilting her head.

Lyra turned, spotting Kafka’s silhouette as he tried to sneak away. A teasing grin spread across her face.

“Oh, he’s finally up! About time! He’s been sleeping all day. What a sleepyhead.”

Then, with a gasp, she added mischievously,

“Honestly, what was he doing last night to be that tired?”

That made Bella go warm as she looked away

Camilla, meanwhile, just smiled knowingly.

Lyra blinked, realizing what her words implied.

“Oh…oh.” Her eyes widened, and she quickly waved her hands in panic. “I see, I see. Makes sense! Forget I said anything!”

But even as she tried to laugh it off, something in her curious mind refused to settle. The thought lingered there like an itch she couldn’t ignore.

She hesitated, biting her lip, then finally blurted out.

“Still…I can’t help but wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Bella turned toward her, confused.

Lyra scratched her cheek awkwardly, eyes darting to the side. “Well…was he really that relentless last night? I mean, he didn’t even get a proper night’s sleep, right? And you and Mom, uh…you all seem to be…glowing this morning.”

The last few words came out so meekly that even her voice seemed to shrink away from her mouth.

Camilla’s brow arched immediately, the corner of her lips tugging upward.

“My, my…what’s this, Lyra?” She said with teasing warmth. “Why are you suddenly asking those kinds of questions? Normally, whenever the topic turns that way, you pretend it doesn’t exist, or act like you’re above it all. But now…” She smiled slyly. “Now you’re curious?”

“N-No!” Lyra flustered, shaking her head rapidly. “I was just, just asking casually! You know! Normal conversation!”

Bella grinned mischievously, sensing an opportunity.

“Oh really, Lyra?” She said, leaning in with an exaggerated smirk. “Because it kinda sounds like you want to know in detail. Maybe you’re finally seeing what we see.”

Lyra groaned, covering her face with both hands.

“Be quiet, you!” She said, her ears burning bright red. “It’s not like that! I’m just a little curious, that’s all! You’re making it weird!”

Camilla chuckled softly, folding her arms as she exchanged a knowing glance with Bella.

“Mhm. Sure, sweetheart. ‘Just curious.’ That’s what they all say at first.”

Bella playfully nudged her mother’s arm.

“Yeah, Mom’s right. First, it’s curiosity. Then it’s ‘Oh, I just want to understand him better.’ Then before you know it, boom. You’re calling him Daddy, but not in way I’m calling him and rather in bed instead.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide. “WHAT?!” She shrieked, her voice cracking as she jumped to her feet. “Don’t you dare say that! I am not calling him that!”

“You’re already getting defensive!” Bella laughed so hard she nearly fell over. “That says everything!”

“You two are the worst!” Lyra pouted, flailing her hands as if to physically push their teasing away. “I swear it’s not like that! I just—ugh!—fine! Forget I asked anything!”

But even as she stomped her foot and turned away, both Camilla and Bella watched her with knowing smiles, the same amused sparkle in their eyes.

Camilla leaned toward Bella, whispering just loud enough for Lyra to catch. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Bella snickered. “Yep. Sooner or later, she’ll be part of his little harem too.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Lyra shouted, whirling around with a mortified expression.

They both burst out laughing.

And though Lyra crossed her arms and huffed, trying to act annoyed, her heart was thumping faster than usual.

Because deep down, she knew, just maybe, they weren’t entirely wrong…

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