Kafka, sensing the shift in the room, seized the opportunity to push further, his grin widening as he caught Abigaille off guard. His hand tightened on her ass, pulling her closer with a gentle but firm tug, her body stumbling slightly as she stood over him and Olivia.
"I know you inside out, Mom." He said, his voice a teasing lilt, his eyes glinting with mischief. "So well, I could even tell you your 'favorite position'."
His words were full of intention, loaded with innuendo that made Abigaille's eyes widen in horror, while Olivia, still pressed against his chest, raised her head in innocent confusion.
"Position?" Olivia asked, her voice soft and guileless, her blue eyes blinking up at Abigaille. "What does he mean, Abigaille? Is it...sports-related? Or like a yoga position?"
Her question was earnest, her mind grasping for an innocent explanation, unaware of the intimate connotation Kafka had implied.
