Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 172: I Want Mommy

Franz woke before the alarm.

For a moment he didn’t understand why.

The room was dark. The gray light of early morning barely touched the edges of the curtains.

Outside, the snowfall had thickened overnight. The garden beyond the glass had become a soft white blur.

Then he heard it.

A small, strained sound from the hallway.

Crying.

Franz sat up.

The sound came again. Muffled. Uneven.

Lily.

He pushed the blankets aside and crossed the room without bothering with the lights. The floor felt cold under his feet as he moved toward the hallway.

The door to the twins’ bedroom was already open when he arrived.

Arianne stood beside the bed with Lily in her arms. The girl clung tightly to her sweater, her small body trembling with fever and exhaustion. Her hair stuck to her forehead, damp from sweat. Her face looked flushed in the dim light.

Leo sat on the mattress behind them. His tablet rested forgotten beside his knee. The boy watched the scene silently, both hands gripping the edge of the blanket.

"Mommy..." Lily’s voice came out weak and hoarse. "I want Mommy."

Arianne didn’t answer immediately. She moved Lily against her shoulder and rested one hand gently against the back of the girl’s head.

Franz stepped inside.

"What happened?"

Arianne glanced toward him. "Her fever went up."

Franz moved closer. Lily noticed him but barely reacted. Her attention remained somewhere behind Arianne’s shoulder, her eyes half closed as she tried to push her face into the fabric of Arianne’s sweater.

"I want Mommy," she repeated.

The words landed in the room.

Arianne didn’t correct her. She simply continued holding the girl while adjusting the blanket that had slipped from Lily’s legs.

Leo slid off the bed the moment Franz stepped closer. The boy moved straight toward him. Before Franz could react, Leo wrapped both arms tightly around his waist and pressed his face into his shirt.

Franz rested one hand on the back of the boy’s head.

"Easy," he murmured.

Leo didn’t move. His grip tightened instead.

Behind them, Lily began crying again. The sound came in short bursts now, weakened by the fever but no less desperate.

"Mommy... Mommy..."

Arianne looked toward the bedside table. The thermometer still rested there from the night before.

"Can you check her temperature again?" Franz asked, his voice low.

Arianne nodded. She adjusted Lily and pressed the thermometer beneath the girl’s arm. The small beep felt unusually loud when it sounded.

Arianne read the number. "Higher than earlier."

Franz exhaled.

Leo still hadn’t released him.

"Leo," Franz said gently. "Can you sit on the bed for a moment?"

The boy shook his head. He didn’t speak. He simply held tighter.

Franz glanced toward Arianne. She noticed.

"He’s been like that since she started crying."

Lily stirred again.

"I want Daddy," she said weakly. The words came out softer this time. Almost confused.

Franz looked down at Leo. The boy had gone rigid.

For several seconds, no one moved.

Then Arianne adjusted Lily carefully and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand moved slowly across the girl’s back, repeating the same motion again and again.

"Let’s get her some water," Franz said.

Arianne nodded.

"I’ll bring it."

He lifted Leo to free himself. The boy resisted at first, but after a moment he allowed Franz to guide him back onto the mattress. Franz placed the blanket around his shoulders.

"I’ll be right back."

Leo didn’t respond. His eyes followed Franz until he left the room.

The house was unusually silent that morning. Snow had buried most of the driveway overnight. The sky beyond the windows still carried the dull gray color of a heavy winter storm.

Franz filled a glass of water in the kitchen while the heating system hummed through the walls. The house felt different with the children sick. Smaller somehow. The usual morning sounds—footsteps, Lily’s cheerful voice, the twins arguing over breakfast—had been replaced by this thick silence.

He stood at the counter longer than necessary, one hand resting against the edge. The silence pressed in from all sides. He thought about how empty the house felt without their noise—how much space they usually filled without trying. He’d never noticed it before. He wouldn’t forget it now.

By the time he returned upstairs, Aunt Estella was already in the twins’ room. She stood near the bed with her sleeves rolled while Arianne tried to coax Lily to drink a few sips of water.

Aunt Estella looked toward Franz as he entered. "Fever?"

"Yes," Arianne answered.

Aunt Estella nodded.

"Children sometimes spike like this when they wake."

She stepped closer and rested the back of her hand against Lily’s forehead.

Franz handed the glass to Arianne. Lily drank reluctantly before turning her face away again.

"I want Mommy," she murmured.

Aunt Estella’s expression softened.

"She remembers who used to take care of her," she said, her voice low.

Arianne nodded but didn’t answer.

Leo remained seated on the bed behind them. The boy hadn’t moved since Franz left the room. When Franz stepped closer again, Leo reached forward and caught the edge of his sleeve.

Franz sat beside him. "You’re staying with me today?"

Leo nodded weakly.

The morning unfolded slowly after that.

The twins’ fevers rose and fell in uneven cycles while the house gradually adjusted to the situation. Franz carried Leo most of the time. The boy refused to leave his side. Even when Franz tried setting him down, Leo would simply follow him again and cling to his shirt with determination.

Arianne spent most of the morning holding Lily. The girl alternated between sleeping and waking in short bursts, each time asking the same question in a tired voice.

"Where’s Mommy?"

Arianne never corrected her. She simply smoothed Lily’s hair and adjusted the blanket when the girl moved. Once, Lily opened her eyes and looked directly at Arianne’s face. For a moment, something like recognition flickered there. Then her eyes drifted closed again.

Franz watched her during those moments. Her face never changed—calm, steady, the same expression she wore in boardrooms. But her hand never stopped moving across Lily’s back. Slow circles, endless and patient. He wondered if she knew she was doing it. He wondered if she could stop even if she tried.

Leo, meanwhile, had begun to relax. He still followed Franz everywhere—to the window to check the snow, to the hallway when Franz checked his phone, back to the bedroom when Lily cried again. But the desperate grip had loosened. Sometimes he simply walked beside Franz, one hand resting on his leg.

Around midmorning, Gio arrived.

Snow clung to his coat when he stepped inside. He stamped his feet on the mat before entering the sitting room.

"I heard what happened," he said.

Arianne looked up from the sofa where Lily slept against her shoulder. "They’re both running fevers."

Gio nodded. "I’ll move your meetings."

"That’s not necessary."

"It is." He pulled out his phone. "I’ve already rescheduled the board call."

Arianne studied him for a moment before nodding.

Franz watched the exchange without speaking. Leo remained seated beside him, leaning against his arm.

"Did you call the pediatrician?" Franz asked.

Arianne reached for her phone with her free hand.

"I tried earlier." She dialed again. After a moment, someone answered.

Arianne listened before responding. "I see."

When she ended the call, Franz looked at her.

"He’s out of town."

"For how long?"

"A few days."

The room fell silent. Franz glanced toward the window. The snowfall outside had grown heavier again. Driving anywhere today would be difficult. Even if they found another doctor, getting there would mean digging out the car, managing roads that hadn’t been plowed, leaving one twin behind while they took the other.

Arianne opened her contact list. She scrolled through the names.

Franz watched her pause. "Do you know someone?"

"Maybe." She stopped at a number. "Ellie."

"A doctor?"

Arianne nodded. "We met during charity work years ago. She’s a pediatrician. Works with some of the clinics in the city."

Franz waited while she dialed.

The call connected after several rings.

"Ellie? It’s Arianne." Her tone softened. "Yes, it’s been a while."

She listened for a moment before continuing. "I need some advice."

Franz watched her expression while she explained the twins’ symptoms—the fevers, the coughing, Lily’s dehydration, Leo’s silence. She answered a few questions, reading the thermometer numbers from her phone.

After a minute, she nodded. "I understand."

When the call ended, she looked toward him. "She’ll try to come tomorrow if the roads clear."

Franz exhaled. Leo leaned further against his shoulder.

Across the room, Lily stirred again in her sleep. Her hand reached out blindly until it touched Arianne’s arm. Then she settled.

The afternoon passed in fragments.

Franz lost track of time. The gray light outside never changed—no sun, no shadows, just the steady fall of snow against the windows. He checked his phone once and found messages from work, all of which he ignored.

Leo fell asleep against him sometime after lunch. The boy simply closed his eyes and stopped moving, his small body heavy against Franz’s side. Franz didn’t move for nearly an hour afterward.

His arm had gone numb twenty minutes ago. He didn’t care. Leo’s weight against him was its own kind of anchor—warm, breathing, trusting. Franz looked down at the boy’s dark hair, at the way his lashes rested against his cheeks, and thought about how strange it was to love someone this much.

Arianne dozed on the sofa with Lily. Each time the girl stirred, Arianne woke immediately and checked her temperature, offered water, smoothed her hair. Then she would lean back and close her eyes again.

Aunt Estella appeared periodically. She brought soup that no one ate. She checked the children with practiced efficiency. She spoke little, but her presence seemed to steady the room.

By late afternoon, Lily had improved. Her fever dropped half a degree. She drank more water and even managed a few spoonfuls of soup before turning her face away.

"I want down," she said, her voice weak.

Arianne hesitated. "You need to rest."

"I want down."

Arianne looked at Franz. He shrugged.

She lowered Lily carefully to the floor. The girl stood unsteadily for a moment, then walked slowly toward the window. She pressed one hand against the cold glass and stared at the snow.

"Pretty," she murmured.

No one corrected her when she called it that.

Pretty. Not snow. Not the storm that had trapped them here, that kept doctors away and roads buried. Just pretty. Arianne watched Lily’s small hand against the glass and thought about how children saw the world—not for what it cost, but for what it was.

Night arrived slowly.

The twins refused to sleep in their bed. Leo clung to Franz the moment he tried setting him down. Lily cried weakly when Arianne attempted to leave the room.

Aunt Estella watched from the doorway before speaking. "They’ll rest better if you stay."

Franz looked at Arianne. She already understood.

The bed was large enough for the twins and Arianne, but with Franz, it would be smaller. Closer.

They arranged the blankets carefully. Arianne lay down first with Lily beside her. Franz settled on the other side with Leo. The boy remained curled tightly against his side, one small hand twisted in the fabric of Franz’s shirt.

Within minutes, both children began drifting toward sleep.

Lily murmured once more. "Mommy..."

Arianne brushed the girl’s hair back but said nothing.

Leo moved beside Franz. His breathing had already evened out, the tension finally leaving his small body.

Franz lay in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the room—the soft rhythm of Leo’s breathing, Lily’s occasional restless movement, the creak of the house settling under the weight of snow.

Across the bed, Arianne’s eyes were open. She met his gaze for a moment. Neither of them spoke.

Outside the tall windows, snow continued falling across the dark grounds of the Rochefort estate. It covered the driveway, the garden, the distant trees—everything soft and white and silent.

The four of them lay in the dim room while the storm moved slowly past.