Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 143: Eternity Rings

Nate’s bar had always been quieter on weeknights.

By the time the evening crowd thinned, the atmosphere changed almost completely. The louder conversations near the front faded, leaving softer sounds—glasses touching, the low murmur of music from speakers above the shelves.

The lighting remained warm. Amber bulbs hung above the counter, casting a steady glow across polished wood and the rows of bottles arranged along the wall.

Nate preferred the quieter hours. It allowed him to close early when he felt like it. And it allowed certain conversations to happen without interruption.

The booth near the back wall had long become the group’s usual place.

Julian arrived first, dropping into the seat with the casual ease of someone who had spent enough nights there to treat it almost like a second living room. He loosened his jacket and leaned back, watching Nate wipe down the counter.

"You’re closing early again?" Julian asked.

Nate didn’t look up. "Only for people I like."

"That explains why you still let us in."

Nate placed two glasses on the counter before walking them over to the booth. "Drink."

Julian accepted the glass.

Gilbert arrived a few minutes later. He stepped inside quietly, the evening air following him through the door before it closed behind him.

His jacket remained neatly folded over one arm as he crossed toward the booth.

Julian nodded. "You look like you came from a meeting."

Gilbert slid into the seat across from him. "I did."

Nate set another glass on the table. "Then you definitely need that."

Gilbert accepted without arguing.

The conversation remained easy and familiar, drifting between small topics as the room settled into the calm rhythm of the evening.

Arianne and Franz arrived together not long afterward.

The moment they stepped inside, Nate glanced toward the door. "You’re late."

"We’re not," Franz said.

"You are," Nate replied.

Arianne slid into the booth beside Gilbert while Franz took the seat next to Julian. The movement shifted the balance, glasses sliding a fraction across the polished surface before settling.

Nate placed the last two drinks down. "There."

Julian lifted his glass. "Now we’re complete."

Nate finally slid into the remaining seat.

For a short while the conversation continued without direction. Julian complained about a production schedule. Nate made an offhand remark about a supplier who had delivered wrong bottles. Gilbert listened more than he spoke. Arianne leaned back, turning her glass between her fingers. Franz remained quiet, watching with the relaxed patience he usually showed during their gatherings.

Eventually Nate reached into his pocket.

"I saw something entertaining today."

Julian immediately looked suspicious. "What is it this time?"

Nate pulled out his phone. "Oh, this one’s harmless."

He unlocked it and slid it across the table toward Franz.

"Congratulations."

Franz glanced down. The advertisement filled the screen.

The lighting from the phone cast a glow across the table as the image became visible to everyone around it. Noah Hart stood beneath soft studio lights behind a woman whose profile remained partially hidden. The perfume bottle rested between them.

Julian leaned forward. "That campaign again?"

Nate nodded. "Launched yesterday."

"It’s everywhere today." Julian picked up the phone. He studied the image for a moment before scrolling down. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

Nate rested his elbow on the table. "The comments."

Julian’s eyes moved across the screen. A moment later he laughed. "Oh, that’s good."

Gilbert glanced toward him. "What?"

Julian turned the phone so the others could see. "The internet thinks Noah Hart just filmed a perfume advertisement with someone’s wealthy married wife."

Nate raised his glass. "That’s the current theory."

Arianne glanced briefly at the screen. Her expression didn’t change. She kept her face still, the way she’d learned in boardrooms. But beneath the table, her fingers touched the ring briefly. Someone’s wealthy married wife. They had no idea how accurate that was. Or how wrong.

Julian continued scrolling. "Oh wait—this gets better."

Nate leaned forward. "Did you reach the ring part?"

Julian stopped. "The ring?"

Nate tapped the screen. The photograph enlarged slightly. The diamonds of the eternity band became clearly visible beside the perfume bottle, reflecting the studio lighting in a narrow flash.

Julian let out a quiet whistle. "That’s noticeable."

Nate nodded. "Collectors noticed."

Julian looked at him. "Collectors?"

"Jewelry forums." Nate leaned back. "They identified the ring."

Julian frowned. "That fast?"

"It’s a rare piece."

"How rare?"

Nate lifted one finger. "Ten."

Julian blinked. "Ten what?"

"Pairs."

The table grew momentarily quiet.

Julian looked toward Arianne. "Ten pairs exist?"

Arianne had lowered her gaze toward her own hand. The ring rested there exactly where it always had. Under the warm bar lighting, the diamonds reflected a softer glow than they had beneath the intense studio lamps in the advertisement.

She turned her hand slowly, studying the ring with more attention than she had since the day Franz had given it to her.

"I didn’t realize they were that rare," she said.

Nate tilted his head. "You didn’t ask?"

Arianne shook her head once. She hadn’t asked. At the time, there hadn’t been room for questions. The wedding had happened quickly, quietly, for reasons that had nothing to do with romance. The ring had simply appeared one day, sized perfectly on her ring finger. She’d put it on and never thought to ask where it came from.

At the time, their marriage had required speed and discretion. Franz had handled the arrangements quietly, returning later with the rings already prepared. She had accepted them without thinking much about the details.

Across the table, Franz remained silent. The rings had sat in a safe deposit box for years before he ever touched them again. He’d bought them on impulse —seen them and known, with absolute certainty, that they belonged to her. It had been unreasonable. She wasn’t his. She might never be his. But he’d bought them anyway.

The rings had been in his possession long before their wedding. He had secured them years earlier. At the time, the purchase had felt almost unreasonable. The idea that Arianne might one day wear one of them had seemed too distant to treat seriously.

Still, the rings had remained carefully stored. Waiting.

He had only asked to resize hers before the wedding.

Franz lifted his glass and took a slow sip.

Nate continued. "The internet’s conclusion is entertaining though."

Julian glanced back at the phone. "Which one?"

"That the model is married."

Julian smirked. "Well... they’re technically right."

Nate nodded. "They also think her husband must be extremely wealthy."

Julian leaned back. "That’s also technically correct."

Nate pointed casually toward Arianne’s hand. "If you plan on staying anonymous in future perfume advertisements, you might want to start hiding that ring."

Julian looked toward Franz. "Does he?"

Nate laughed softly. "Of course he does." He lifted his glass and gestured toward Franz. "He only wears his ring in private."

Julian frowned. "What about Noah Hart?"

Nate shrugged. "Noah Hart doesn’t wear one."

Franz didn’t argue. The separation between his two identities required habits like that. Something as simple as a ring could create unnecessary questions.

Across the table, Arianne examined the band again.

Nate’s suggestion made practical sense. If the campaign continued circulating, drawing attention to the ring would only invite curiosity.

She turned it once between her fingers. Then she allowed her hand to rest quietly against the table again.

Julian leaned back. "So the internet thinks you filmed a perfume ad with someone else’s wife."

Nate nodded. "A very wealthy someone else’s wife."

Franz set his glass down. "They’re not entirely wrong. She’s filthy rich, isn’t she?"

The table broke into quiet laughter.

Across from him, Gilbert had remained mostly silent.

For a moment his gaze shifted from the glowing phone screen to Franz himself.

Five years earlier, Franz had rarely spoken about Arianne at all.

Now he had produced rings that only ten couples in the world could wear.

Gilbert didn’t comment. He simply lifted his glass and took a slow drink.

Nate’s phone remained on the table. The advertisement still filled the screen. Noah Hart stood behind the unidentified woman beneath the studio lights. The perfume bottle rested between them.

And the ring on her hand caught the light.