Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 171: Low Fever

The fire had been burning for hours.

Arianne didn’t remember lighting it. Somewhere between the third report and the fourth, the logs had caught and settled into something low and steady. The rest of the room stayed dark except for the floor lamp bleeding gold onto her laptop screen.

Her neck ached.

She’d been in the same position too long—knees tucked, spine curved over the keyboard, one hand scrolling through logistics numbers that blurred together. The report said inventory was within acceptable variance. She’d still make Gio confirm in the morning.

She reached for the next file.

Then she heard the footsteps.

Small. Dragging.

Arianne’s hand stopped.

Lily appeared in the hallway entrance first. The girl walked slower than usual, her favorite long-sleeved shirt swallowing her hands. She rubbed her nose with the back of her wrist.

Behind her, Leo.

No tablet.

That was the first thing Arianne noticed. The boy carried that thing everywhere. Alex had bought it for him. Leo had treated it like armor ever since.

Now his hands were empty.

Lily climbed onto the sofa, her knee digging into Arianne’s thigh. "Upstairs. Leo didn’t want to play anymore."

Arianne looked at Leo.

He came straight to her side. Not sitting first. Just—into her. His shoulder pressed against her arm. His weight dropped against her ribs. His face turned into her neck.

She set the report aside.

"Leo."

Nothing. But his breathing was loud in her ear. Too loud.

She pressed her palm to his forehead.

Warm. Not burning. But warm enough that her stomach tightened.

"Did he eat lunch?"

Lily nodded. "He did. But he stopped early."

"Why?"

"He said he was tired."

Lily rubbed her nose again. Her voice scraped a little.

Arianne caught it. "You too?"

Lily shook her head fast. "I’m fine."

But her eyes were heavy. The kind of heavy that meant sleep was coming whether she wanted it or not.

Arianne kept her hand on Leo’s forehead a moment longer. Then she let it drop to his back. His breathing was faster than it should be.

They were fine this morning.

The front door opened.

Voices carried down the hallway—Mira’s goodbye, the low murmur of Franz’s reply. Coat hitting the rack. Shoes against wood. Footsteps crossing toward the sitting room.

He appeared in the doorway.

Stopped.

His eyes moved across the room. The low fire. The dark corners. Leo pressed against her. Lily curled on the cushion. The reports scattered across the table.

"How long?"

"Not long ago."

He crossed the room and crouched in front of the sofa. Reached for Leo’s forehead.

His knuckles brushed Arianne’s wrist.

She didn’t move.

Franz didn’t seem to notice. His palm flattened against the boy’s temple. "Mild."

Leo coughed against Arianne’s shoulder. Small. Wet.

She felt it in her chest.

Franz leaned back. "Did he cough earlier?"

"Once."

He glanced at Lily.

She was already climbing onto the cushion beside him, rubbing her eyes with both fists. Her cheeks were pink. Her nose was running. She sniffed hard.

"You too," Franz said.

"What?"

"Your nose."

She sniffed again. "Oh."

Arianne’s jaw tightened. "Did you play outside today?"

Lily nodded. "After lunch."

"How long?"

"I don’t know."

I don’t know meant too long. It meant coats left unzipped. It meant chasing each other through the garden while the temperature dropped. It meant Arianne should have checked on them sooner.

She closed her laptop.

Franz looked at Leo again. The boy had gone boneless against Arianne’s shoulder, breathing heavier now, his fingers curled into her sleeve.

Franz straightened. Sat beside Lily.

The four of them stayed there. Firelight moved across the walls. Outside, snow drifted past the windows.

Lily leaned sideways until her shoulder pressed into Franz’s arm.

"I’m sleepy."

He looked down at her. "That’s unusual."

"I know."

She yawned. Her whole face scrunched with it.

Arianne shifted Leo in her arms. His weight was solid against her, but his breathing wasn’t right. Too fast. Too shallow.

"Did either of them nap?" Franz asked.

"No."

"That explains part of it."

Leo coughed again. Harder this time.

Arianne’s hand moved to his back, rubbing small circles. She could feel the heat coming off him through his shirt.

Franz watched her hand. Then he stood.

"Let’s check their temperature upstairs."

Arianne nodded. She stood carefully, lifting Leo with her. His head dropped against her collarbone. His nose pressed into her neck. His breath came hot against her skin.

She followed Franz toward the stairs.

Upstairs, the lights were dim. Franz guided Lily toward the twins’ room while Arianne went ahead. She lowered Leo onto the bed carefully. His eyes stayed closed.

She reached for the thermometer. Her fingers moved fast.

Behind her, Franz helped Lily onto the other mattress.

"Open," he said. "Come on. Just a second."

The thermometer beeped.

Arianne looked at the screen.

100.4.

Franz’s thermometer beeped a moment later.

"Low fever," he said.

"Same here."

Their eyes met across the bed.

Nothing severe. Nothing to panic about. But Leo never got sick. Lily either. They ran hot and cold and always bounced back. This was something else.

Arianne’s grip tightened on the thermometer.

Lily lay back against the pillows. "I don’t like being sick."

"No one does," Franz said.

She sniffed. "Will we still go outside tomorrow?"

"We’ll see."

Arianne pulled Leo’s blanket up. Tucked it around his shoulders. The boy shifted beneath her hands, his breathing already evening out.

She smoothed the fabric near his chin. Folded the corner where it bunched unevenly.

Franz pulled Lily’s blanket higher. The girl’s eyes were half closed, her fingers already going slack against the pillow.

Neither adult moved.

They stood on opposite sides of the bed. The room was quiet except for the rhythm of small breaths—too fast, but steady.

Arianne’s hand stayed on Leo’s blanket. She should turn off the lamp. Let them rest.

She didn’t move.

Franz reached down and brushed a strand of hair from Lily’s forehead.

His fingers were careful. Gentle.

Arianne watched his hand.

Then she realized she’d done the same thing—her fingers still resting against Leo’s cheek.

She looked up.

Franz was looking at her.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Just stood there, hands still on the children who weren’t theirs, who were theirs now, who had been Alex’s and were now—

Leo coughed.

Arianne’s hand dropped. Franz straightened.

"They’ll be fine," he said.

"I know."

She did. Children got fevers. Children got sick. But she was already running through the night in her head. Checking temperatures. Making sure they drank water. Listening for breathing that turned ragged.

Outside, the snow kept falling.

Franz moved toward the door. He paused with his hand on the frame.

"You should sleep. If they wake up—"

"I’ll stay."

He nodded. Then he was gone.

Arianne pulled the chair from the corner. Dragged it next to the bed. Sat.

She looked at Lily first. The girl’s face had relaxed completely now, lips slightly parted, one hand curled against the pillow. Her color was better already.

Then Leo. His breathing had slowed. Still too fast, but steadier. His fingers had uncurled from her sleeve. He looked smaller like this. Softer.

Alex’s face, sometimes. When Leo slept.

She looked away.

Her phone buzzed.

Franz.

Call me if anything changes. I’ll be up.

She stared at the screen.

She should put it down. She should sleep. She should—

She held it in her lap. The screen still lit. His name still on it.

Outside, the snow showed no signs of stopping.