Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 111: No Silence Between Us

The terrace at the back of the estate stayed warm longer than the inside rooms. When the sun went down behind the trees beyond the property, the stone under the chairs still felt warm. The air had cooled, though it remained mild. The lights along the railing had not turned on yet.

Arianne was already sitting on the terrace when Gio stepped outside, the glass doors left slightly open to let the air move without making the shift obvious. From her seat, she could see the living room reflected faintly against the darkening garden, a lamp near the far wall casting light across the floor.

Gio stopped at the doorway before stepping onto the terrace. He didn’t ask for permission. He took the chair across from her and sat down with his tablet on his knee.

For a moment, they both sat in silence.

The distant sounds of traffic along the street came and went softly. Near the side garden, a sprinkler turned on briefly and then stopped, followed by silence.

"You should have told me," she finally said.

Her voice held no blame; it showed her point of view.

Gio looked down at the ground under his feet before meeting her eyes. "I thought I could handle it."

She studied him for a moment before speaking. The fading light softened his features but did not hide them.

"You were ten when he died," she said.

Gio moved his jaw slightly but kept his gaze steady.

"I didn’t bring you here so you could handle everything by yourself."

A light breeze crossed the terrace, lifting her sleeve before it settled again.

Gio rested his forearms on his knees, hands loosely clasped. "I was trying to."

"You know," she said.

Not a question. A fact.

He nodded. He did know. The house after the funeral. The quiet. Aunt Estella never asking for thanks. Arianne never saying you’re my brother now, just... making it true.

They shared the same memory of the house they moved into after the funeral—quiet, unfamiliar, Aunt Estella careful in the kitchen, never asking for thanks and never pressing comfort where it wasn’t wanted.

"You don’t decide what affects me," she said.

He absorbed it without reply.

"I didn’t want them to use it against you," he said simply.

His words were clear and didn’t try to justify anything.

"They can’t use me."

A pause. "And they can’t use you either."

Gio looked toward the trees. "It wasn’t about me."

"It was."

He took a breath. "I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else."

"I don’t like finding out late."

He nodded. "You’ve always been clear about that."

"You’re not a kid anymore."

"No."

Quick. Certain.

The terrace lights turned on one by one, casting a soft line across the stone and restoring the definition dusk had blurred from their faces.

Inside the house, Franz moved briefly behind the glass. He walked through the sitting room with his phone in hand, looking relaxed. He didn’t glance at the terrace.

Gio looked in her direction for a moment before focusing back on her.

"I thought handling it would keep it contained," he said.

"It wasn’t yours to contain alone."

He didn’t argue. Just sat with it.

Arianne rested her hands on the arms of her chair and sat up straight, as she usually did. However, there was a slight change in her shoulders, a softness only someone who knew her well would notice.

She let the silence hold for a count of three before continuing. Long enough for him to feel the weight of what came next.

"You don’t owe them," she said.

He understood. "I don’t."

"They’ll try other approaches later. Not this one."

"I’m aware."

Arianne looked at him—not at his capability, but at his quiet. At the boy who’d learned to be quiet so he wouldn’t be a burden.

"When Aunt Estella said you are stubborn," she said lightly, "I thought she meant it as a criticism."

His mouth moved slightly. "She meant it as a warning."

"She meant it as a fact."

He almost smiled.

"She also said you don’t bend."

"I bend. When it suits me."

"Exactly."

The air cooled a bit more. Arianne absently adjusted her sleeve, smoothing out the fabric.

"You’re part of the structure, not an extension."

Gio’s eyes narrowed slightly. "I am."

"You don’t carry things in silence."

He nodded.

"And you don’t protect me."

"You don’t need protection."

"That’s not the point."

He took that in. Nodded again.

He glanced toward the glass doors—the warm light inside, the shape of Franz moving past—then back at her. The contrast wasn’t lost on him. Inside, things were settling. Out here, they were settling too.

Inside the house, the twins’ voices echoed softly down the hallway, followed by the sound of a door closing a bit too hard. A moment later, light footsteps moved toward the staircase.

Gio looked toward the sound. "They’re still trying to get you and Franz close to each other."

"They don’t give up."

"They think it’s working."

Arianne glanced at her reflection in the glass. Franz walked through the sitting room again, this time putting his phone on the table before sitting down.

"They can think that," she said.

Gio watched her watch Franz. "Is it?"

She didn’t answer right away. "Ask me again in a month."

He nodded. Fair.

Gio’s face remained calm.

"I should have told you," he said after a moment.

"Yes."

Not harsh. Just true.

"I didn’t want to make it a bigger deal than it was."

"It was already bigger than you."

He didn’t argue.

"You won’t do that again."

"No."

"Good."

The matter settled there.

She stood up from her chair first and smoothed her trousers, which creased at the knee. For a moment, she stood next to him instead of in front of him. This changed their positions, but not the distance between them.

She placed her hand briefly on his shoulder, then stepped back toward the glass doors.

"Next time, we handle it together."

He looked up at her, still and steady.

"Yes."

She took her hand away and moved toward the glass doors. The light from inside framed her as she walked back into the house.

Gio stayed in his seat after she left. The stone under his shoes had cooled. He placed his hands lightly on his knees and let the quiet settle. It wasn’t empty quiet. It was the kind that came after something heavy had been set down.

Inside, things went back to normal. The twins’ voices floated down again, followed by Franz’s quiet response to something he couldn’t see.

Gio finally stood up and walked slowly across the terrace. He didn’t hurry.

When he reached the doorway, he paused to take one last look at the garden beyond the railing. The lights created a clear line along the edge of the stone, separating the lit terrace from the dark grounds beyond.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, leaving the terrace empty under the steady glow of the railing lights.

In the hallway, Franz passed him. Didn’t ask. Just nodded.

Gio nodded back.

No words. But Gio felt it—the nod meant you’re here. Same as Arianne’s hand on his shoulder. Same as always.

He kept walking.