Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle-Chapter 74: What She Heard

"Arianne was very observant even as a child," Aunt Estella continued, her hands resting loosely on her lap. "She learned things by observing those people around her. She knew how to count numbers at the age of one. At two, she already mastered the alphabet. By the age of three, she could read storybooks with minimal guidance."

She smiled briefly at the memory, but a long sigh replaced it as she looked toward the dark hedge lining the garden.

"But her strongest trait also made her aware of her surroundings, especially of her parents."

Aunt Estella adjusted the scarf draped over her shoulder, smoothing the fabric absently.

"Did Arianne know about the history of her name?" Franz asked, leaning forward slightly on the bench.

Aunt Estella nodded. She looked mortified.

"She was five. Gabriel came home one night drunk and saw her still awake, sitting cross-legged in front of the television in the living room. He said inappropriate words to a child like her and revealed he shouldn’t have named her after his dearest Arianna."

Silence followed. Franz remained seated, his hands clasped loosely between his knees. He was lost for words, thinking it was a good thing he never got a chance to meet Arianne’s father. He had never felt such rage toward another person until now.

However, hearing Aunt Estella’s recollections helped Franz better understand his wife.

Named after his father’s dead lover, her existence carried the memory of someone else. Her mother could not say her name without recalling the betrayal, while her father could not say her name without remembering what he’d lost.

A name is supposed to belong to you. For Arianne, it never really did.

"No one told her who Ms. Brennan was, but Arianne didn’t need anyone to tell her. She probably figured it out herself," Aunt Estella continued.

Franz remained silent. The cold night air barely registered against his face.

Her mother endured.

Her father indulged.

The families around them chose not to look too closely.

She didn’t have that option.

She realized everyone knew. Everyone suffered, but no one refused to act.

In that kind of house, asking for protection didn’t make sense. Control made more sense.

"It was odd, though, that despite his obvious disregard for his daughter, Gabriel acknowledged Arianne as his heir."

Aunt Estella’s words pulled Franz’s attention back to her.

"He did?" Franz asked, lifting his head.

The elderly woman nodded once.

"Aria’s first mentor was her father. After Gabriel learned Arianne was good at numbers, he began calling her into his study, seating her across from his desk, and giving her worksheets to gauge her knowledge. Then he introduced her to the basics of negotiation and business. It became routine for them to meet every Saturday afternoon in his study. Aria always looked forward to it, but she never mistook his attention for affection."

"The man who mentored her was the same man who hurt and humiliated her mother. Wasn’t that a contradiction?" Franz murmured, his gaze lowered to the gravel near his shoes.

"Their relationship as father and daughter wasn’t simple," Aunt Estella agreed. "Gabriel fathered five other children outside marriage, but he never took responsibility for them and never allowed them to use his family name."

"But Gio—"

"Wasn’t acknowledged as well," Aunt Estella interrupted. "When Gabriel died, Arianne hired a private investigator to examine her father’s affairs and his illegitimate children. Among the five, two died in childhood, two were brother and sister, and the last was Gio."

Franz leaned back against the bench and exhaled slowly.

"Has she always been like this, Aunty?"

"You mean being cold and distant? No, Franz. My Aria was like any adorable child. Think of it like our Lily. Aria was once like that," Aunt Estella replied.

"Then why?"

Aunt Estella didn’t respond immediately. She looked toward the lit window of Arianne’s study.

"That night, when Arianne found her mother overdosed in her study, was the same day she changed. I initially thought it was the shock that caused the sudden change, but it wasn’t the case..."

Franz didn’t know what to say. Aside from Aunt Estella, it seemed every adult around Arianne had failed to protect her.

"After Gabriel passed away, it was only then that I found out Miss Ysabella was still conscious when Aria found her. Conscious enough to say her last words." She paused. "Aria asked me if her mother was cursing her with those words or if Miss Ysabella truly meant it."

"What did she say?" Franz asked.

Aunt Estella lowered her gaze. Franz noticed her hands trembling slightly against the scarf.

"Aria said her mother cupped her cheeks and said, ’My sweet little Aria.’ Aria thought her mother was finally looking at her — not through her."

Aunt Estella’s voice thinned.

"But then Miss Ysabella said... ’This is all your fault. I shouldn’t have given birth to someone like you.’"

Franz opened his mouth, but couldn’t say a word.

"She was conscious," Aunt Estella continued, steadying her breathing. "Her eyes were clear. That was what frightened Aria the most. There was no confusion. No delirium."

Franz’s jaw tightened.

"She was dying," he said quietly.

"Yes," Aunt Estella replied. "And Aria has never been certain which sentence her mother meant."

Silence stretched between the bench and the hedges lining the path.

"She asked me that night whether Miss Ysabella cursed her or loved her. She repeated the words over and over as if saying them aloud might change their meaning."

Franz could not imagine a child holding that question alone.

"What did you tell her?" he asked.

"I told her her mother loved her," Aunt Estella said. "But I don’t know if that answer reached her."

The night air moved gently through the garden, brushing against the leaves above them.

"After that," Aunt Estella continued, "she stopped asking for anything. Something broke inside her."

Franz looked toward the lit window again. Arianne’s silhouette was visible through the glass, seated upright at the desk. Papers aligned. Shoulders straight.

"She didn’t cry," Aunt Estella said. "Not at the hospital. Not at the funeral."

Franz swallowed.

"People said she drove her father to his death—a devil child. They said she was heartless for ruining him. Then they said she was cursed for losing her mother. It was easier for them to make her the villain than admit they had all watched things fall apart."

"She was thirteen," Franz murmured.

"Yes," Aunt Estella agreed. "And by then, she had already learned that grief does not protect you. It only makes you vulnerable."

Franz remained quiet.

"Weeks after Miss Ysabella’s passing," Aunt Estella said, "Aria went into her father’s study—not to mourn, but to review the audit documents."

Franz closed his eyes briefly.

"She told me later that if she had acted sooner, perhaps things would not have reached that point."

The wind shifted again, carrying the faint scent of trimmed hedges.

"People call her cold. They don’t see what it costs her not to react. She learned that if she reacted, she would lose ground."

Franz did not defend her.

He did not soften it.

He simply listened.

"She was not born distant, Franz," Aunt Estella continued. "But every adult around her chose endurance, indulgence, or silence. A child doesn’t stay the same in a house like that. She took in Gio because he was the only one among her siblings who didn’t have ill intentions toward her. She probably saw a part of herself in him." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Aunt Estella could still remember the day Arianne brought Gio home. He was thin and malnourished. The neglect was apparent on his body.

Franz finally spoke.

"She did not become a monster."

"No," Aunt Estella said. "She did not."

The house behind them was quiet.

"Tomorrow," Franz said after a moment, remembering what Arianne would face the next day, "they will sit across from her at that table."

"Yes."

"And they will remember the girl who ruined her father."

"They will," Aunt Estella replied.

Franz’s gaze remained fixed on the window.

"They won’t see the child who asked whether her mother meant those words."

Aunt Estella did not answer.

Inside the study, Arianne turned a page without hesitation.

Outside, the night held its silence.

She turned the last page, aligned the papers, and reached for her pen.