Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others
Chapter 30: The Stalker & The Hurt.

Chapter 30: The Stalker & The Hurt.

Niklaus POV

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"Follow them."

Steffon nodded quickly, his hands tightening on the wheel as he obeyed without hesitation. But I could see the confusion in his eyes, the unspoken question lingering between us.

I didn’t offer him an explanation.

Instead, I pulled out my phone, my fingers moving swiftly over the screen. I wasn’t the kind of man who left things to chance—especially not when it involved people like Jasmine and Liam Garfield.

Something about this entire situation felt off.

And if there was one thing I never did, it was ignore my instincts.

The engine purred softly as Steffon eased onto the road, keeping a careful distance from the Garfield car. I leaned back against the leather seat, my expression unreadable, but my mind was far from still.

The dark gleam in my eyes reflected the thoughts swirling in my head.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

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Hermia POV

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The ride to the Blackwood estate would have been quiet if not for Jasmine’s endless chatter.

She filled the car with dramatic opinions, waving her hands as she spoke, completely unbothered by how exhausted I felt.

"I’m so happy you don’t know my brother or want anything to do with him," she declared, relief and exaggeration mixing in her voice. "Honestly, one woman fawning over him is enough for this lifetime. And don’t even get me started on your sister! I already hate her, and I hope you hate her too."

I gave her a small smile, my voice soft but firm. "Hate is a strong word, Jasmine."

Liam, who had been staring out the window, turned his head slightly at my words. I could feel his gaze, assessing, though I wasn’t sure why.

I didn’t say much else. The evening had drained me, and I didn’t have the energy to match Jasmine’s intensity. Instead, I let her voice fill the space, grounding myself in the steady hum of the car.

As we approached the estate gates, I shifted in my seat and spoke up. "You can drop me here. I’d like to walk the rest of the way."

Jasmine frowned immediately, shaking her head. "No way! We’re taking you right to the door."

I met her resistance with a small but firm smile. "I insist. I could use a walk to clear my head and stretch my legs before heading to bed."

She sighed dramatically but relented. "Fine, but if you get ambushed by your evil sister, don’t blame me!"

The car slowed to a stop, and I stepped out, turning back to wave. "Thank you for the ride. Goodnight, Jasmine. Liam."

"Goodnight!" Jasmine called out cheerfully.

Liam gave me a curt nod, his sharp gaze lingering for just a second longer before the car pulled away.

As I walked through the gates and toward the estate, the quiet night wrapped around me, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the evening. I took a deep breath, letting the cool air settle my nerves.

I didn’t know that behind me, at a careful distance, a sleek Lamborghini trailed with its headlights off.

Niklaus Hathaway was watching my every move.

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Niklaus POV

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Hours later, I sat in the shadows of my sleek Lamborghini, watching as the Blackwood car rolled through the estate gates.

Earlier, the Garfields had dropped Hermia off at the entrance and driven away. My sharp eyes narrowed. Why?

Why did they leave her at the gate instead of escorting her inside? It was late, and the night was far too quiet for comfort.

My grip tightened around the steering wheel, but I forced myself to stay put.

You’re practically stalking her already. Don’t make it worse.

I had known Hermia would be attending tonight’s function. Ever since I found out, I haven’t been able to focus on work. The idea of her standing out in a crowd, wearing something elegant, had occupied my thoughts far more than it should have.

But now—seeing her like this—made my chest tighten unexpectedly.

Her dress, once perfect, was torn. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and even from a distance, I could feel the sadness in her posture.

What the hell happened?

I already knew. My assistant had sent me the details earlier in the evening. But reading about it and seeing it for myself were two very different things.

"This night isn’t over for her," I muttered under my breath. The weight she carried wouldn’t disappear just because the event had ended.

Behind me, Steffon cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Boss, can we leave now?"

I didn’t bother looking at him. "No. Wait."

Steffon blinked. "Wait? For what?"

"I’m working," I said flatly, making it clear the conversation was over.

I could feel his stare, but I ignored it.

This doesn’t look like work, I imagined him thinking.

Still, he knew better than to question me further. With a sigh, he leaned back in his seat, clearly resigning himself to my decision.

I smirked slightly. I had sent our chauffeur away earlier for this exact reason—Steffon deserved to suffer through this absurd stakeout with me.

As the minutes dragged on, I kept my eyes locked on Hermia’s retreating figure, watching until she disappeared inside.

Steffon sighed again, louder this time, but I didn’t react. He could hope all he wanted that my "work" wouldn’t take all night.

But judging by the way my pulse reacted to her presence, that hope was pointless.

’I have to wait here, I have a bad feeling,’

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Hermia POV

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I entered the house quietly, my heels dangling from my fingers as I walked barefoot.

My feet ached from the walk, but that was the least of my worries.

I had bigger problems—problems that felt like they were pressing down on me from all sides.

A debt I couldn’t ignore.

A ruined dress that told its own humiliating story. I haven’t even enjoyed the dress, not even paid and it’s ruined.

Selena’s thirst for revenge, no doubt sharpening into something even crueler.

The lies she’d weave for our father, each one another nail in my coffin.

And God, if I could just disappear—step through some invisible doorway into another world where none of this existed. Where I didn’t have to tiptoe through my own home, waiting for the next attack. Where I wasn’t always bracing for another betrayal.

But there was no escape.

Just this house, this night, and the storm that was about to break.

In the living room, Selena sat on the couch, her legs jittering nervously. She didn’t even glance up when I stepped inside. That only confirmed what I already suspected—she wasn’t waiting for me. She was waiting for our father.

I sighed, bracing myself for whatever storm was brewing.

"It’s over for you today!" Mariela’s shrill voice rang out the second she spotted me.

I kept walking, refusing to rise to the bait.

"I never knew someone could be this evil," she spat, venom dripping from every word when I didn’t respond.

I paused, turning to face her. "Mum, You were there. You saw how she attacked me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Don’t call me ’Mum.’ I can never be a mother to someone as heartless as you," Mariela hissed, rising from her seat as though the very sight of me disgusted her.

I flinched, the words cutting deeper than I cared to admit.

I thought I had grown stronger. That I had built enough walls, and sharpened my tongue enough to bite back when necessary. That I could be sassy and unbothered, always ready with a cool remark or a disinterested shrug.

But this house... this house had a way of stripping me bare.

No matter how much I prepared myself, the second I stepped through these doors, the weight of it pressed down on me. The past. The rejection. The hope I still hadn’t managed to kill.

Hope was a foolish thing. It made me weak.

And yet, I still had it.

Why?

Why did I still care what they thought? Why did I still expect—even in the smallest, most pathetic way—that one day they’d see me? That one day Selena would look at me and actually feel sorry instead of hiding behind our stepmother?

Selena should be the one apologizing right now. She should be the one facing Mariela’s wrath. She was the one who started that mess tonight. She was the one who lunged at me like a madwoman in front of everyone.

But here I was. The villain, as always.

"What did I even do?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

And I hated myself for that tremble. Hated that after everything, they could still make me feel this small.