Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 140: Identity Must Remain Undisclosed

The afternoon at Rochefort Group had returned to its usual rhythm by the time the sun began lowering behind the buildings across Montclair.

From Arianne’s windows, the city appeared calm and orderly—streets slowly filling with late-day traffic as offices emptied and people returned home. The light entering through the tall glass panes was softer than earlier, spreading across her polished desk and the neatly stacked documents arranged in front of her.

Arianne read through the final page of a financial report before setting it aside.

Across the room, Gio stood near the smaller table where he organized incoming correspondence. His tablet rested against one hand as he scanned emails that had arrived while Arianne had been in meetings.

The office itself was quiet. Most of the day’s meetings had concluded, and activity on the surrounding floors had gradually slowed. Occasionally distant footsteps or a closing door reached the hallway outside, but inside the atmosphere remained calm.

Gio glanced down at the screen. "You’ve received a message from the production company."

Arianne lifted her gaze. "The photoshoot?"

"Yes."

He stepped closer and turned the tablet so she could see.

The email had been written with careful professionalism.

The production company explained the circumstances of the shoot. Their contracted model had been unable to arrive due to an accident, and Arianne’s brief assistance as a stand-in had allowed the crew to complete several framing tests.

Those test images, the email explained, had turned out unexpectedly strong.

Strong enough that the director and photographer wished to use them for the perfume campaign itself.

The message requested formal permission.

Attached were several preview images.

Arianne extended her hand.

Gio placed the tablet on the desk.

Her hand rested on the tablet for a moment before opening the first image. She wasn’t sure what she expected to feel. Curiosity, maybe. Professional detachment. She pressed the screen.

She studied the first photograph in silence.

The shoulder alignment shot. She stood slightly in front of Franz beneath the studio lights, the perfume bottle resting near her hand while his profile appeared just behind her shoulder. The lighting softened the edges so both figures emerged gradually from the darker background. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Arianne moved to the next.

The turn shot. The photograph captured the moment she had turned toward Franz during the movement sequence. Light brushed across the side of her face while his silhouette remained behind her—close enough to suggest presence without dominating the frame.

She continued scrolling.

The whisper profile shot appeared next.

The composition was tighter than the others. Her profile tilted toward the light, the perfume bottle resting near her neck while Franz’s outline hovered just behind her shoulder.

For several seconds she looked at the image without speaking.

She barely recognized herself. Not because the lighting had changed her features—but because of how she looked at him. Or rather, how she looked near him. The woman in the photograph seemed... settled. As if standing in front of Franz was the most natural place in the world. Arianne stared at her own expression and felt something catch in her throat.

The lighting had been carefully controlled. The shadows fell exactly where the photographer had intended. The composition matched the aesthetic of the campaign concept she had briefly seen.

Gio remained standing nearby. "There are more."

She moved to the final sequence.

The fragrance distance shot filled the screen. She faced Franz directly, the perfume bottle lifted between them while the studio lights created a narrow reflection along the glass surface.

As Arianne examined the photograph more closely, something caught her attention.

Her wedding ring. The diamonds of the eternity band reflected a thin ribbon of light just beneath the bottle. The position of her hand during the shoot had placed the ring directly within the frame.

She paused on the image.

Gio noticed the shift. "You see it."

Arianne nodded. "The ring."

The diamonds were impossible to miss once the lighting caught them.

Gio leaned closer. "The production team didn’t remove it."

"It wouldn’t occur to them to."

To the crew, the ring would have looked like simple jewelry. In luxury advertising, accessories often remained part of the styling.

Still, Gio hesitated. "There’s something else we should consider."

Arianne looked at him.

"The incident from earlier."

She understood immediately.

Gio’s half-brothers had obtained a photograph showing Arianne and Noah Hart together on the filming set of his medical drama. The image had never been released, but the situation had escalated into attempted blackmail. Franz and Daryll had intervened quickly. The photograph had disappeared before it could circulate.

The situation had been resolved.

But the experience had reinforced the need for caution.

"This advertisement places you in the same professional environment again," Gio said carefully.

Arianne studied the photograph once more. "Not exactly."

Gio waited.

"In these images, my face is not clearly visible."

The lighting had been designed for artistic effect rather than identification. Her profile appeared partially obscured in most frames, and the composition centered primarily on Noah Hart and the perfume bottle.

To most viewers, the woman would appear as an anonymous model.

"The risk is minimal," she concluded.

Gio nodded slowly.

"The production company also included a compensation offer."

He enlarged the licensing document. The figure displayed reflected the commercial value of a campaign featuring Noah Hart. Fragrance campaigns with celebrity endorsements commanded considerable budgets.

Arianne read the number. "That won’t be necessary."

Gio expected this. Accepting payment would require formal contracts and identification records attached to the campaign’s licensing agreements. Such documentation would create unnecessary visibility.

"You want to decline it entirely?"

"Yes."

She leaned back. "I didn’t participate as a model."

"And the building hosted the shoot," Gio added.

Arianne nodded. "Exactly."

Keeping the interaction simple would prevent complications.

Instead of discussing compensation, she gave Gio a short list of conditions.

"The production company may use the images. But my identity must remain undisclosed."

Gio began typing. "No credit lines. And the photographs are limited to the perfume campaign itself."

"Yes."

The message was brief and clear.

Once Gio finished typing, he sent the response.

"The director will probably accept immediately. They need the images."

Arianne closed the tablet and returned to the documents on her desk. The situation had already been resolved.

By evening, the office had grown noticeably quieter. Most surrounding floors had emptied.

When Arianne finally left the building, the sky had darkened into the deep blue of early night.

Franz returned home not long after.

By the time he entered the house, the estate had settled into its quiet evening rhythm. Lights along the driveway cast a soft glow across the garden. The wide windows of the living room reflected the outline of trees surrounding the property.

Inside, the house was calm.

Arianne had already changed out of her work clothes, her hair tied back loosely. She stood near the small bar cabinet beside the sitting area, opening a bottle of wine when Franz walked in.

"You’re early," she said without looking up.

"The filming wrapped faster than expected."

She poured two glasses and handed one to him.

Franz loosened his collar and crossed the room, accepting the glass. The quiet inside felt different from the constant movement of the studio earlier.

They sat on the sofa near the low table.

For a moment neither spoke.

Outside, the dark outline of the estate grounds stretched into the distance, garden lights illuminating stone paths winding between the trees.

Arianne finally mentioned the email. "They want to use the photographs."

Franz took a sip. "That was quick."

"They sent the images."

"And?"

"They’re surprisingly good."

Franz leaned back. "I expected that."

Arianne rested her glass against the arm of the sofa. "They offered payment."

Franz looked amused. "And you refused."

"Of course."

Accepting payment would have meant contracts, documentation, names attached to a campaign that did not need them.

"They’ll agree to the conditions," she added.

Franz nodded. "That was always likely."

Arianne took another sip. "One detail stayed in the photos."

Franz glanced toward her. "The ring."

She nodded.

The eternity band had caught the studio light. The photographers had left it untouched.

Franz let out a quiet laugh. "That’s ironic."

The advertisement would circulate publicly. Her wedding ring would be visible beside him. Yet no one would understand what it actually meant.

"To them," Arianne said calmly, "it’s just part of the styling."

"Most people won’t notice."

But they would know. Every time the image appeared on a billboard or in a magazine, they would see it—the thin band of diamonds that bound them together in a way no one else could read. It would be there, in plain sight, hidden in full view. The thought settled warmly between them.

The room settled back into silence.

Somewhere outside, wind moved through the trees along the edge of the property.

Franz set his glass down. "Next time, try not to rescue my photoshoots."

Arianne looked at him. "That wasn’t intentional."

Franz smiled. "I know."

She lifted her glass. "To coincidences."

Franz raised his in return.

The quiet sound of glasses touching echoed briefly in the room before they settled back into the calm of the evening at the estate.