Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle

Chapter 420: No Other Option

After the zoo, Arianne gave the driver an address, and the car pulled away from the gleaming new exhibits and into the older, narrower streets of the city. The restaurant was tucked between a tea shop and a bookstore, its entrance so discreet that Franz would have walked right past it if Arianne hadn’t pointed it out. There was no sign in any language he recognized. Just a dark wooden door with a single lantern hanging above it.

Inside, the restaurant was warm and low-lit. The tables were spaced far apart, the walls decorated with calligraphy scrolls and small potted plants. A woman in a dark uniform greeted them at the door, and Franz watched her eyes flicker with recognition when she saw his face. But she didn’t react. She didn’t gasp or whisper or pull out her phone. She gave a polite nod and led them to a table near the back, away from the windows.

This happened two more times. The waiter who brought their menus. The young woman who filled their water glasses. Each of them recognized him: he could tell by the brief pause, the quick glance, the way they caught themselves before any expression could form. But none of them said a word. None of them approached. They treated him exactly as they would any other customer.

Franz leaned toward Arianne. "You chose this place on purpose."

"I chose it because the food is good. The discretion is a bonus."

"You knew they wouldn’t make a fuss."

"I know the owner. She trained her staff well. They won’t bother you." She paused. "They might ask for an autograph when we’re leaving. But only then."

"That’s more than fair."

The attendant returned with a notepad, and Arianne began to speak.

Franz had known, intellectually, that she was fluent in Rohan. She had lived here for five years, had built a life here, had conducted business in this city. Of course she spoke the language. But knowing something and witnessing it were two different things.

She spoke quickly, confidently, the unfamiliar syllables rolling off her tongue with the same ease she brought to everything. She gestured at the menu, asked questions, made requests. The attendant nodded and wrote and responded in kind. Franz couldn’t understand a single word they were saying, and he found that he didn’t care. He was too busy watching her.

She caught him staring after the attendant left. "What?"

"Nothing. I just—" He shook his head. "I didn’t know I’d find it so endearing. Hearing you speak another language."

Arianne raised an eyebrow. "Endearing."

"Yes. Endearing. Is that a problem?"

"No. It’s just not a word people usually use to describe me."

"People don’t know you the way I do."

She didn’t answer, but the corner of her mouth curved. It was enough.

Lily, who had been reading the menu with her brow furrowed, treating it like a document requiring full attention, looked up. "Can you teach us? Me and Leo? To speak Rohan?"

"I want to visit again," Lily continued, her voice earnest. "When I’m grown up. When I’m a CEO and I have business in Rohan. I should know how to talk to people here."

"Me too," Leo said. "I want to learn."

Arianne looked at them: Lily with her fierce determination, Leo with his sincerity. "I can teach you a few words. Basic greetings. Thank you. Please. How to order food. But I’m fairly certain you’ll forget most of it by the time we get home."

"I won’t forget," Lily said. "I have an excellent memory."

"You have an excellent memory for things that interest you. Piano. Business strategy. The organizational chart of Rochefort Group."

"That’s a lot of things."

"It is. But you don’t need to force yourself to learn everything at once. You’re already learning piano. You’re already the best reader in your class. Rohan can wait." Arianne paused. "One thing at a time, Lily. You have your whole life to learn."

Lily considered this. "So I can learn it later? When I’m older?"

"Yes."

"And you’ll teach me then?"

"If you want to learn."

"I will. I’m very consistent."

"I know you are."

Leo tugged at Arianne’s sleeve. "One word," he said. "Please. Just one."

Arianne looked at him. Then she said something in Rohan: a short phrase, two syllables. "It means thank you."

Leo’s lips moved, shaping the unfamiliar sounds. He repeated it back, working through each syllable.

Arianne nodded. "Good."

Leo smiled. It was a small smile, but it reached his eyes.

The food arrived in a procession of plates.

Sliced roasted pork, the edges crisp and golden. Stir-fried noodles with vegetables and a dark, savory sauce. Chicken glazed in something sweet and sticky, garnished with sesame seeds. Steamed buns shaped like little animals: a detail that made Lily gasp with delight and immediately claim the panda-shaped one for herself.

Franz tried the pork first. It was rich and savory, the meat tender enough to pull apart with chopsticks. He set his chopsticks down. "This is incredible."

"The owner’s family has been making that dish for three generations," Arianne said. "She told me the recipe is older than the city itself."

Leo was working his way through the stir-fried noodles with focused determination. The whale was propped against the water glass, its button eyes facing the table. Every few bites, Leo paused to adjust its position, as if making sure it could see the food.

Lily had claimed the sweet chicken as her personal favorite. "This is the best chicken I’ve ever eaten," she announced, her fingers already sticky with sauce. "Better than Aunt Estella’s chicken. Don’t tell Aunt Estella I said that."

"I won’t," Franz said.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Arianne moved between them, helping the twins with their plates, reminding them to eat at a reasonable pace, pouring water when their glasses ran low. She moved with the same efficiency she brought to everything, but there was something softer about it here. Something more relaxed.

"When you lived here," Franz said, "did you come to this restaurant often?"

"Once a week. Sometimes more. The owner’s daughter was one of the first people I met when I arrived. She helped me find a manor to rent. Taught me where to buy groceries. Little things. Things I didn’t know I needed to know."

"She’s the one who trained the staff?"

"Yes. She runs the restaurant now. Her mother retired last year." Arianne glanced toward the kitchen. "She’ll probably come out to say hello before we leave."

"Will she ask for an autograph?"

"Probably not. She’s never been impressed by celebrities."

"Then I’ll have to impress her with my charming personality."

"You don’t have a charming personality."

"I have a very charming personality. You married me."

"I married you for the company."

"You married me because I was the best available option."

"There were no other options."

"And yet you chose me."

Arianne shook her head, but she was almost smiling. Across the table, Lily was whispering something to Leo, probably planning another argument about starfish. The restaurant hummed around them. The staff moved efficiently and without fuss, treating Noah Hart like any other customer. Franz sat at the table with his wife and his children, eating food made from a recipe older than the city, and felt something settle in his chest that he hadn’t known was unsettled.

The shopping mall was bright and modern, a stark contrast to the intimacy of the restaurant. Three floors of stores, a food court, a children’s play area with a giant plastic jungle gym. The twins’ eyes went wide.

"Can we go to the toy store?" Lily asked.

"After we get what we need," Arianne said. "Clothes first."

They found a children’s clothing store on the second floor. Franz was examining a rack of tiny onesies: dinosaurs, pandas, a particularly offensive shade of neon green, when he heard footsteps behind him.

Two women. Young, early twenties. One of them was holding her phone with the grip of someone trying very hard to be brave.

"Excuse me," the first one said. "Noah? Noah Hart?"

Franz turned. Their faces lit up with the particular joy of fans who had just had their suspicions confirmed.

"We’re from your official fan club," the second one said, her voice breathless. "We recognized you from across the store. We didn’t want to bother you, but we just—can we get a selfie? Please? Just one?"

Franz hesitated. He glanced at the twins, who were examining a display of tiny socks with Arianne. Then he looked back at the women.

"I’m here with my family," he said. "My niece and nephew. I’m trying to keep things private today."

Their faces fell, but they nodded quickly. "Of course. We understand. We’re sorry—"

"But," Franz continued, "if you can keep the photos to yourselves for a week: no posting, no sharing, I’ll give you a few selfies. And a video message. As a thank you for understanding."

The women exchanged a look of barely contained excitement. "Really? Yes. Yes, we can do that. We promise. No posting for a week."

"Good." Franz smiled. "Let’s take those photos."

He posed for three selfies, recorded a short video message for their friend who couldn’t be there, and thanked them for their discretion. The women were effusive, grateful, working hard not to squeal.

Then Lily appeared.

She rounded the corner of the clothing rack, a pair of tiny socks in each hand. "Uncle! Look at these—they have little pandas on them. Lexx needs panda socks. Uncle, do you think—"

She stopped. Saw the women. Saw their phones. Saw the particular expression on Franz’s face that meant he had been recognized.

"Oh," she said. "You’re fans."

The women looked at Lily, then at each other, then back at Franz. "We should go," the first one said quickly. "Thank you so much, Noah. We won’t post anything. We promise."

They hurried away, their heads bent together, whispering.

Lily watched them go. "Did I scare them away?"

"No. They were leaving anyway."

"I called you Uncle. Was that wrong?"

"No. It was fine." Franz knelt to her level. "You did nothing wrong. They were very polite. They just didn’t want to interrupt our shopping."

Lily looked uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"I’m sure. Now help me pick out some clothes for Lexx. I found a onesie with pandas on it, but I need a second opinion."

Lily’s face brightened immediately. "Pandas? Where? Show me."

She followed him to the rack and began sorting through the onesies with the critical eye of a personal shopper. "This one is good. This one is too green. This one has a weird bird on it. What is that bird supposed to be?"

"I think it’s a flamingo."

"It doesn’t look like a flamingo. It looks like a stick with legs."

"Then we won’t get the flamingo one."

"Good choice."

Leo appeared beside them, the whale under his arm. He studied the rack for a beat, then reached out and pulled down a pale blue onesie with a single whale embroidered on the chest.

"This one," he said.

Franz looked at the whale. At Leo’s face. At the worn blue plush tucked under his arm, soft from years of love.

"Yes," he said. "That’s the one."