Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 182: I Expected More from You

The words didn’t echo.

They landed.

Julian’s hands came up before he knew what he was doing—not pushing, just bracing against the table behind him. The edge bit into his palm, gave him something to hold onto. His mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Around them, the room locked up.

Nate’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth. Gilbert didn’t move at all, but something in his shoulders pulled tight, the easy slope gone. Even the bar noise seemed to pull back, like the space itself was holding its breath.

Franz watched Arianne.

Not Julian. Her.

His face gave nothing away, but his eyes tracked her like she was a wire pulled taut.

Julian swallowed. She could see it—the way his throat worked before he found his voice.

"Arianne—"

"You didn’t think to mention it."

Her voice stayed low. Flat. She didn’t need to yell. The grip on his collar was enough. She could feel his pulse against her knuckles—fast, out of rhythm.

"Three years," she said. "You’ve had three years."

"I didn’t—"

He stopped. His eyes moved over her face, not looking for a way out. Looking for context. The confusion was real. She could see it in the delay, in the way his brows pulled together like he was trying to solve a math problem with half the numbers missing.

She didn’t step back.

"He was in the clinic today. Sitting alone. Not asking for anything."

Her voice cracked on the last word. Not loud. Not sharp. Just—less held together than she wanted it to be.

"With a tablet in his hands," she said, her jaw tightening. "Watching the door like he was used to people leaving."

Julian’s face went pale.

Not all at once. Slow, like water draining out of something.

"I didn’t know."

The words came out thick. Not defensive. Just late.

Arianne held his gaze for another beat.

Then she let go.

His collar slipped free. He stepped back, his leg catching the chair, not sitting, just—stopping. His hand went to his collar, pressing where her grip had been. His chest moved. Not fast. Not even. The air was coming in wrong, and he couldn’t seem to fix it.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It pressed into the space between them, settled into the cracks.

Arianne stepped back.

Her spine straightened first. Her face followed.

"He has your eyes," she said. "And the way you stop before you move."

No one said anything. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Julian didn’t answer. She didn’t think he could. His gaze had dropped to somewhere in the middle distance, like he was trying to assemble something he hadn’t known was missing.

She watched him for a second longer.

Then she exhaled, and the breath came out rough.

"We agreed not to interfere," she said. Not looking at anyone. "But that assumes everyone knows what they’re responsible for."

Gilbert spoke first. "Who are we talking about?"

Arianne turned to him. "Dr. Michelle Rosenthal."

She watched the name land.

"Ellie."

Franz’s gaze moved then—from Arianne to Julian.

"She has your child?"

Not disbelief. Just confirmation.

Julian didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Arianne pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. Hard. Like she was trying to reset something that had gone off track.

"I expected more from you."

The words weren’t sharp.

That made them worse.

"I would have expected something like this from Nate," she added, glancing at him, "not from you."

"Hey—" Nate straightened. Reflex, not offense. "I take that personally."

A beat.

"I don’t leave problems behind without knowing they exist."

The tone was light. The words weren’t.

Arianne was already moving toward the door.

No one stopped her.

Franz stood. Didn’t look at Julian. Didn’t look at anyone.

He followed.

The cold hit different outside. Not sharp enough to clear her head, but present—pressing against her cheeks, her hands, the exposed skin at her wrists. Grounding in a way the bar hadn’t been.

Arianne didn’t slow. Franz matched her without adjusting, his pace locking to hers like it was automatic.

Her hands were shaking.

She noticed it now, now that she wasn’t holding anything. The cold could explain it. The adrenaline could explain it. But she knew. Her body was letting go of something her mind had been holding tight. She jammed her fists into her coat pockets and kept walking.

They made it half a block before she stopped.

No warning. Just—stopped.

She turned toward the street instead of him. The traffic was thin, the sound muffled by the snow stacked along the curb.

"He looked at me," she said.

Her voice had changed. Not softer. Just—less armored.

"Like he was trying to figure out if I was going to stay."

Franz didn’t say anything.

"He’s three." She heard her own voice crack again and didn’t try to stop it. "He’s three years old and he already knows how to watch people leave."

The words came out raw. Unpacked. Not arranged into something that could be defended.

Franz had never heard her sound like this. Not in boardrooms. Not in the moments after, when she thought she was alone. This was Arianne without the scaffolding. He didn’t reach for her. He just stayed.

She didn’t turn. Her shoulders were still square, her spine still straight, but something in the way she held herself had changed. Not steady. Held.

Franz stepped closer. Not enough to touch.

Just enough to be there.

"What do you need?"

No suggestion. No assumption.

She was quiet for a moment.

Long enough to notice the quiet. That she hadn’t thought of an answer yet. That she’d acted before she understood what she was doing. That what she was feeling wasn’t something she’d organized into categories.

She recognized the pause—the gap between action and understanding. It was unfamiliar. She always knew why she did things before she did them. Always. But today, the knowledge had come after. The anger, the pull, the need to make Julian see—all of it had moved through her before she gave it a name. She didn’t know if that made her less herself or something closer to it.

She turned.

Her eyes met his.

"For you to be here."

No elaboration.

"That’s all."

Franz nodded once.

He didn’t move closer. Didn’t reach for her. He stayed exactly where he was, in the cold, and let that be the only answer he gave.

And that was enough.

They stood there, the city moving around them, neither of them stepping away.