Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others
Chapter 23: Ready For The Evening.

Chapter 23: Ready For The Evening.

What if they lock me in and I can’t go out?

The thought sent a violent shiver down my spine, ice threading through my veins. Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave, dragging me back to a time I had tried so hard to forget—the nights they had locked me in, not out of concern, not out of discipline, but sheer, unfiltered cruelty.

"You don’t deserve to be out there," Selena had sneered, her voice sickly sweet as she dangled the key just out of my reach. "Why should you get to enjoy anything when everything you have was never meant to be yours?"

"Please," I had whispered, swallowing my pride, my dignity. "Just let me out."

Mariela had only laughed, the sharp, amused sound cutting through the heavy silence of the hallway. "Maybe next time, you’ll learn to be grateful, Hermia."

Then the door had slammed shut, the key turning in the lock with a final, heart-wrenching click. I had pounded on the door until my fists were raw, but they never came back. They had left me there, alone in the suffocating dark, with nothing but my own silent screams and the sting of humiliation.

Even now, my throat tightened at the memory.

Not again. Never again.

I bolted upright, my heart pounding. Nope. Never again.

Scrambling to my feet, I grabbed the key from my bedside table and rushed to the door. My hands trembled as I shoved the key into the lock, twisting it firmly until I heard the solid click

. A sharp exhale left my lips. Relief.

I left the key in the lock. Let’s see them try now.

Muttering to myself, I climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over me. The soft afternoon light bathed the room, and for the first time all day, I felt safe—like this space truly belonged to me.

Still, my mind refused to quiet. It churned restlessly, replaying the day in vivid, taunting detail—Jared’s over-the-top sales pitches, the breathtaking dress that fit too perfectly, and, most persistently, Niklaus Hathaway.

His name was a forbidden melody in my thoughts, weaving through my mind with an unshakable rhythm. Niklaus. Niklaus. Niklaus.

The way his voice had dipped when he spoke to me, rich and dark like velvet laced with steel. The way his hand had brushed the small of my back—light, fleeting, yet somehow possessive. As if he had every right to touch me, to guide me, to claim a space in my world without asking.

Niklaus was an enigma. Cold yet attentive. Distant yet magnetic. Unreachable yet standing so terribly close.

What does he want?

I owed him. I was in his debt. That alone should have been enough to keep me wary, to remind me that men like him—men with power, men who never did anything without a reason—never acted without a price.

And yet, as I rolled onto my side, my lips curved into a traitorous, quiet smile.

"Niklaus," I whispered, testing the name on my tongue, tasting the weight of it. It felt dangerous. It felt intoxicating.

And with that, sleep finally pulled me under, the last thing lingering in my mind not my debt, not my caution—but him.

>

I woke later that afternoon to golden sunlight filtering through my curtains. Stretching lazily, I blinked at the clock.

Time’s slipping away.

I needed to start getting ready. Tonight mattered.

Dragging myself out of bed, I padded into the bathroom, the cool tiles jolting me fully awake. The warm shower was a welcome relief, washing away the weight of the day.

As the water cascaded over me, my thoughts drifted to Jasmine—the girl from the mall. She had been so vibrant, so easy to talk to. Yet, in all the excitement, we hadn’t exchanged numbers or socials.

I sighed. How are we supposed to become best friends now?

The thought made me chuckle. It was silly to daydream about friendship with a near stranger, but having someone like Jasmine around tonight would have been nice.

Maybe fate will let our paths cross again.

After toweling off, I wrapped myself in a robe and stepped back into my room. My gaze landed on the comic book lying on my bed—a bright splash of color in the midst of my neatly arranged vanity.

I smiled, tracing the cover before setting it aside. Later.

I sat in front of my mirror, carefully applying my makeup. With each stroke of eyeliner and swipe of blush, my reflection transformed. I leaned back, tilting my head critically.

Not bad.

Next, my hair. Twisting, pinning, smoothing every strand into place. Tonight, I wanted to look my best. Maybe—just maybe

—it would be a step toward bridging the ever-growing distance with my father.

Would tonight be the right time to ask him about using one of the cars?

I need to prove I’m capable. Poised. Responsible.

Swallowing my nerves, I turned to the wardrobe. My dress for the evening hung waiting. I slipped into it carefully, smoothing the fabric over my frame. It fit like a dream.

Will Niklaus be there?

The thought came out of nowhere, unbidden.

Not for anything, I told myself, but...he had bought the dress. Would he want to see it on me?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought as I fastened my shoes. Jewelry came next. My fingers hovered between delicate pearl earrings and a bold, jeweled necklace.

Pearls.

I clipped them on, a small smile forming. At least I had gotten my jewelry myself.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I let my reflection settle in. I feel... hopeful.

Tonight could change things.

I grabbed my clutch and phone, glancing at the comic book once more before heading out.

By the time I made my way downstairs, I had spent far too much time scrolling the internet for ways to make an entrance. Tutorials on graceful walking, flashing a mysterious smile, and exuding confidence had blurred together in an overwhelming haze.

Nothing felt real.

Frustrated, I shut my phone.

Just be yourself.

As if it were that simple.