Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others
Chapter 29: The Garfield’s & The Blackwoods

Chapter 29: The Garfield’s & The Blackwoods

Hermia’s POV

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"She needs to be kicked out of here."

Jasmine’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. The tension in the ballroom thickened, eyes darting between her and Selena like spectators at a gladiator match.

Selena took a step forward, her stance defiant despite her smaller frame. "Who are you to request that? Do you even know who I am?"

Liam’s sharp glare pinned her in place. His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Who are you?"

Selena faltered, her confidence flickering. "Liam," she said softly, almost pleading. "It’s me, Selena Blackwood!"

Liam scoffed, utterly unimpressed. "And?"

A small, amused breath left Jasmine’s lips. "I’m Jasmine Garfield," she said smoothly, tilting her head. "I wonder why you think I can’t make you leave a party you’re determined to ruin."

Selena’s face paled. "Gar...Garfield?" she stammered, her bravado cracking. "You’re related?"

The murmurs around us grew louder.

"She doesn’t know Liam’s sister?"

"Everyone knows he cherishes her. She’s so dense."

"Selena just stepped on a landmine."

"She’s ruined herself and her father’s reputation."

Jasmine smirked. "I am his sister, Miss Jealousy," she said sweetly. "And I warned you not to mess with me or my best friend."

The whispers only grew, and I felt the weight of Liam’s name ripple through the room. The Garfield Corporation was a powerhouse—one of the most dominant luxury brands in the world. Standing at the top alongside Niklaus Hathaway’s empire, Charles Renwick’s conglomerate, and the almighty Cruise family, the Garfields were a force to be reckoned with.

Liam tsked, his gaze hard and judgmental. "If this is how the Blackwoods raise their daughters, I’ll have to rethink doing business with them."

My stomach plummeted. No.

I couldn’t let this escalate further. My father’s business couldn’t take a hit because of this. I opened my mouth to speak, to salvage what I could, but Liam’s voice cut through the air again.

"Security!"

The entire ballroom stilled, breath collectively held.

Selena let out a choked gasp, her face twisting in fury. "You can’t be serious!"

Jasmine folded her arms, her gaze unwavering. "Oh, I’m dead serious."

The guests murmured amongst themselves, their intrigue palpable. The spectacle had escalated far beyond their expectations, and now, with Liam Garfield stepping in, they were practically salivating for the fallout.

Liam exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling Selena with an unreadable look. "You destroyed her dress in front of a hundred witnesses. What exactly do you want me to do here, Selena?"

Selena’s eyes darted around, searching for sympathy. None came. Even Mariela, for all her scheming, remained silent, her expression calculating.

She knew the tides were shifting.

Still, Selena squared her shoulders, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It’s just a dress," she said stiffly, trying to downplay the damage.

Jasmine scoffed. "Oh, now it’s just a dress? Funny how that logic didn’t apply before you grabbed a knife like a rabid animal."

A few guests chuckled. Selena’s face burned red.

Liam sighed. "Jasmine, let it go."

Jasmine’s jaw clenched, but I could feel her restraint. She wasn’t the type to let things slide easily, but for some reason—probably me—she exhaled sharply and backed off.

I, however, wasn’t ready to let Selena off that easy.

I met her gaze, my voice deceptively soft. "For the record, Selena, I bought this dress myself. No stolen money, no sugar daddy, no petty little schemes—just me. But you know that, don’t you?"

Her jaw tightened.

"What you can’t stand," I continued, stepping forward, "is the fact that no matter how hard you try to paint me as lesser, as desperate, as unworthy—I will always, always be standing here. And you will always be the one making a scene."

The guests murmured louder now. Some nodded, clearly entertained by the turn of events.

Selena opened her mouth, but no words came. For once, she had nothing.

Liam gave her a final, unimpressed glance before shaking his head. "Clean up your mess, Selena."

And just like that, the moment was over.

Selena stood there, humiliated, while Jasmine smirked in satisfaction. I exhaled, my hands unclenching as I finally let my shoulders relax.

Tonight, for the first time in forever, I wasn’t the one walking away in shame.

The security came, ready for orders.

Liam’s tone was cold, unyielding. "Please escort her out, or I’ll be the one leaving."

The security guards didn’t hesitate.

"Of course, sir." One stepped forward, moving toward Selena with efficient precision.

Selena let out a strangled gasp. "This is outrageous, Liam!" she shrieked as they took her arm, dragging her toward the exit.

She struggled, desperate, her voice rising in pitch. "Liam, please! Hermia this is all your fault!"

Liam didn’t even glance at her. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable.

Selena had called his name like it meant something to him. Like she still had a hold over him. But judging by the way he didn’t react, if there had been anything between them, it was long dead.

As the doors slammed shut behind her furious, humiliated figure, a hush settled over the room.

Jasmine turned to me with a warm smile, as if we hadn’t just witnessed social carnage. "That’s better. Now, where were we?"

But my heart was still hammering.

I knew this wasn’t over.

Selena would go home to her father and spin the story her way. And my father—he would believe her, especially if she made me the villain.

My gaze flicked to the side. Mariela had already rushed after her daughter, no doubt eager to control the damage.

Jasmine let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing her arms. "I told you, Liam. All these girls around you are too vindictive." She tossed a glare toward the now-empty doorway.

But Liam wasn’t looking at his sister.

His piercing gaze rested on me.

"Who did you say this troublemaker was again?" he asked, but there was no judgment in his voice. Only curiosity.

"She’s not a troublemaker, she’s my bestie," Jasmine shot back instantly, ever my defender.

I shifted under Liam’s scrutiny, uncomfortable with the weight of his attention. I had enough problems without him adding to them.

I forced out a breath. "I’d like to go now."

Jasmine groaned, rolling her eyes. "Oh, come on, you’re such a party pooper."

I managed a small, tired smile. "I’m just exhausted."

"Did you bring a car? I could drop you off," she offered brightly, already slipping back into her cheerful, carefree mode.

Liam raised a brow at her. "You could?"

Jasmine turned to him, eyes narrowing. "Don’t start, Liam. I know I can’t drive."

For the first time that evening, I felt the faintest hint of amusement. Liam smirked, leaning back with a lazy shrug. "Or own a car."

Jasmine slapped his arm. "Whatever."

She turned back to me, her smile wide again. "Let’s drop you off, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

The three of us left the ballroom together, stepping into the cool night air. The Garfield family car was waiting, sleek and luxurious, a brief respite from the chaos of the evening.

As the driver started the engine, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

But just before we pulled away, something caught my eye.

A sleek Lamborghini had just rolled into the parking lot.

The driver’s side door opened, and I didn’t have to see his face to know who it was.

Niklaus Hathaway.

My pulse stuttered.

He was too far away for me to read his expression, but I didn’t need to. The way his body tensed, the way his jaw clenched as he watched me leave with the Garfields

He wasn’t pleased.

For some reason, I thought that.

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Niklaus POV

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The Garfield car disappeared into the night, its taillights blending seamlessly into the quiet streets, swallowed by the soft glow of streetlights.

From my position inside the Lamborghini, I watched, my gaze tracking their every movement until they were nothing but a distant flicker.

My fingers drummed once against the leather steering wheel before stilling.

I didn’t like this.

Not one bit.

The silence in the car stretched, thick with tension.

Steffon shifted beside me, hesitant. He knew better than to speak when I was like this, but the question burned on his tongue.

"Boss, what should we do?"

I didn’t take my eyes off the road ahead.

"Follow the car."

Steffon blinked, clearly not expecting that. "We’re going to the Blackwood estate?"

"Yes, Steffon."

A frown crossed his face. He hesitated before asking, "Why?"

I finally turned my head, meeting his gaze with quiet intensity. "I want to know why she trusts random people."

Steffon gaped. "Boss, that’s your best friend you’re talking about."

"Exactly." My voice was flat, but the sharp edge in it was unmistakable.

He swallowed, likely realizing it was useless to argue.

"Follow them," I repeated, my tone making it clear—this wasn’t up for debate.