Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 186: It Wasn’t My Place

Lily had asked twice before breakfast was finished.

Not about Franz. About Kyle. Whether he would visit again, whether she could show him the new game Leo had been playing, whether Aunt Aria had his number. Leo hadn’t spoken, but he’d watched her face when Lily asked, which was its own kind of answer.

Arianne had said she would look into it.

She was turning that over when Ellie arrived.

The café sat half a block from the clinic. Close enough that the staff moved like they had somewhere to be, coats kept on, conversations brief. Arianne had chosen a table near the window — not for the view. For the angle. She could see the entrance and the street outside without turning.

She had been sitting there for eleven minutes.

The cup in front of the empty chair had already gone lukewarm. She’d ordered for Ellie without thinking, which was the kind of assumption she’d been making since this started — moving pieces without asking whether anyone wanted to be moved.

She hadn’t touched her own.

Ellie arrived six minutes late. Not enough to apologize for, but enough to explain itself.

She pushed the door open with one hand, the other holding her phone loosely, attention moving between the screen and the room. Her coat stayed on. She found Arianne in one scan and crossed toward her without slowing.

"Sorry," she said, already pulling the chair back. "It’s been—"

She didn’t finish.

"You’re on time," Arianne said.

Ellie sat. She set her phone face down, then turned it back over immediately, her thumb brushing the screen out of habit. A small sticker sat at the corner of the case — a cartoon animal, worn at the edge, peeling. It didn’t match anything else she carried.

"You said it was important." Her tone was steady. Not relaxed.

"Thank you for coming."

The space between them didn’t allow for small talk. Neither of them tried.

"I’ll speak directly."

Ellie nodded. "I expected that."

"I know Julian is Kyle’s father."

The words landed cleanly. No emphasis. No buildup. Arianne watched Ellie’s face — for what, she wasn’t sure. Permission, maybe. Anger would have been easier.

Ellie didn’t move into surprise. If anything, something in her shoulders released, a tension settling rather than spiking.

"So it reached you."

Not a question.

"He’s aware," Arianne added.

That changed something. Ellie’s eyes moved — not to the window, not to her phone. Just away. A half-second. When she came back, her expression was the same, but her hand had tightened around the edge of the table.

"You told him."

Not a question either. But different from the first one.

"Yes."

Ellie exhaled through her nose — controlled, the kind of breath that comes before you decide not to say something.

"I assumed that might happen."

She picked her phone up, set it down again. Her jaw held something she wasn’t releasing. Arianne recognized it — the particular calm of a person who has decided that falling apart is not an option, and has been deciding that for a long time.

"You knew the connection," Arianne said.

"We’re not strangers. Your family and his." Ellie’s voice was even. Careful. "I knew who he was. And I knew who you were."

A pause.

"That’s why I didn’t say anything."

The reasoning sat between them without apology attached.

"You chose not to involve him."

"I chose not to complicate it." Ellie’s hand moved to her cup — not to drink, just to hold something. "It was one week. We both knew what it was."

"He didn’t."

Ellie said nothing.

Her phone vibrated. She glanced down, read quickly, typed two responses. Her posture leaned forward, narrowing.

"Sorry. They’re short-staffed today."

"I won’t keep you long."

She shook her head. "You should. This isn’t something to rush." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Arianne held her gaze a moment.

"I told him."

A pause. Small. But it mattered.

"I acted."

She said it plainly. No softening. But she was aware, saying it, of the gap between clarity and justification — and that she had crossed it without asking.

"It wasn’t my place."

Ellie studied her for a moment. Not with warmth. Not with anger exactly. Something more precise than either.

"It wasn’t not your place either."

The phrasing was imperfect. It fit anyway.

"He’ll likely reach out," Arianne said. "To discuss arrangements."

Ellie’s shoulders tightened.

"Arrangements."

"He should be allowed to be a father."

Ellie leaned back. Her gaze moved to the window, came back.

"I’ve been managing."

"I’m aware."

"I don’t need—"

She stopped herself. A small breath. Reset.

"I didn’t keep it from him because I didn’t trust him. I kept it because I couldn’t afford to need him."

That line didn’t move. It stayed where it landed.

Arianne didn’t interrupt. She understood the part that wasn’t being explained — the arithmetic of it, the way you stop wanting things not because you no longer want them, but because the wanting becomes its own kind of cost.

"He’s used to how things are," Ellie added after a moment. "Kyle."

No embellishment. Just familiarity.

"Leo and Lily are expecting to see him again," Arianne said. "They asked about him this morning. Twice."

Ellie blinked. The change was small but real — her expression moving somewhere softer.

"They liked him," she said.

"They don’t usually ask twice."

Something settled in Ellie’s face. Not resolution. But something that had been held too long beginning, at last, to loosen.

"I don’t know how this changes things."

"It will."

No reassurance in it. Just truth.

Ellie nodded. Once. Then again, more deliberately.

"I’ll talk to him first. Kyle. He should hear it from me before anyone else."

"That’s reasonable."

"I’ll meet with Julian after that. We can..." She paused on the word, weighing it. "Figure it out."

Not confident. But chosen.

"That would be appropriate."

Her phone vibrated again. She checked it, then stood.

"I have to go. There’s a case waiting."

"Thank you for coming."

Ellie nodded, reaching for her coat. She paused with it half-on.

"I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken to him." A beat. "And when Kyle’s ready."

Arianne inclined her head.

Ellie left without looking back, her pace already adjusting, her attention already returning to whatever was waiting for her at the clinic.

The door closed.

The café returned to itself. Coats on, phones out, conversations brief.

Arianne picked up her cup and drank.

It had gone cold. She finished it anyway.

She had done what she came here to do. Whether it had been the right thing — that was a different question, and not one this café, or this morning, or this cup of cold coffee was going to answer for her.

She set it down.

Then she reached for her phone and typed a message to the twins: she would be home before lunch.