Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others
Chapter 54: No Need To Thank Him

Chapter 54: No Need To Thank Him

Niklaus insisted on carrying half the boxes himself, despite Hermia’s protests.

"I can carry them all," she said, reaching for one of the heavier boxes.

"You’ll drop them," Niklaus countered smoothly, already holding three in his hands.

"I will not!"

He raised a brow. "You were wobbling just holding your purse earlier. Humor me, Mia."

Hermia sighed, giving in. As they walked toward the car, her arms full of dessert boxes, she couldn’t help but glance at him.

There was something infuriatingly charming about the way he always managed to get his way while making it seem like it was for her benefit.

When they reached his sleek black Lamborghini, Niklaus held the door open for her once again.

She slid inside, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you," as he placed the boxes carefully on the backseat.

As he settled into the driver’s seat, he glanced at her, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at his lips. "Happy?" he asked, his tone casual but expectant.

Hermia hesitated, then nodded. "Surprisingly, yes. Thank you... for everything."

His smirk widened. "Get used to it."

She didn’t know what he meant by that, but something in his tone made her heart skip a beat.

As the car pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, Hermia leaned her head against the window, clutching the warmth of his gesture close to her heart.

>>>>>>>>>

Niklaus parked the car smoothly outside her apartment building, stepping out with the same effortless grace that seemed to radiate from him.

Hermia followed, carefully clutching a few of the dessert boxes he had insisted on packing for her.

Yet, the weight of the other boxes remained daunting, and before she could attempt to carry them all, Niklaus was already moving toward the trunk.

"I’ll help you carry these upstairs," he said in a tone that left no room for argument, his voice casual but firm.

Hermia hesitated for a brief moment, unsure whether to protest.

But truthfully, she couldn’t manage everything on her own, and the thought of asking for help always unsettled her.

She nodded quickly, a quiet "thank you" escaping her lips as she turned toward the entrance.

As they approached the building, she couldn’t help but notice how the atmosphere subtly shifted.

The usually chatty security guard who sat at the front desk barely glanced at her.

When she greeted him with a polite smile, he nodded vaguely, his posture suddenly straighter and his eyes flicking briefly to Niklaus.

No small talk, no curious questions—nothing like his usual behavior.

What’s gotten into him? she wondered, glancing back at Niklaus, who seemed utterly unfazed.

He carried the stack of dessert boxes with ease, his expression as calm and indifferent as ever.

She caught sight of a maintenance worker in the corner who quickly averted his gaze, muttering something to a colleague.

Hermia’s brow furrowed, but she brushed it off. Maybe they were just having an off day.

The two continued toward the stairwell, and Hermia braced herself for the usual nervousness that crept up whenever she approached the elevators.

She had hoped Niklaus wouldn’t notice, but to her relief, he didn’t even glance in their direction.

Without hesitation, he veered toward the stairs, pushing open the heavy door with his shoulder and holding it open for her to follow.

Her heart lightened at his choice.

Maybe he doesn’t like elevators either, she thought, relieved that she wouldn’t have to explain her irrational fear.

Her cheeks burned slightly at the idea of admitting such a thing to him.

He seemed too composed, too sure of himself—how would he react to something so silly?

They ascended the stairs in silence, the soft thuds of their footsteps echoing off the walls.

The weight of the dessert boxes in her arms felt lighter compared to the weight of her thoughts.

She couldn’t shake the feeling of being under some invisible spotlight the moment Niklaus entered the building.

The deference from the staff, the way they suddenly seemed to notice her... it wasn’t normal.

Her eyes flicked to Niklaus as they reached her floor.

His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was an effortless dominance about him, a natural command that seemed to pull people’s attention whether he intended it or not.

Of course they acted differently, she realized.

Niklaus doesn’t look like someone who belongs here. He doesn’t belong here, he looks more like he’d own here.

As they reached her apartment door, she fumbled with her keys for a moment before unlocking it.

"Do you want me to leave these by the door?" he asked, holding up the boxes.

Hermia shook her head quickly. "No, no. You can bring them in. It’s fine."

She pushed the door open, stepping into the small, tidy space.

It wasn’t grand, but it was hers, and she has already began to love the familiarity of it.

Niklaus followed her in, his broad frame seeming to fill the room.

He placed the boxes carefully on the kitchen counter, straightening them with a precision that made her smile.

For someone so confident and commanding, there was something oddly endearing about the small act of care.

"Thank you," she said softly, setting down her own boxes beside his.

He glanced at her, his blue eyes briefly locking with hers. "You don’t need to thank me, Mia."

Her chest fluttered at the nickname, and she quickly turned away, busying herself with unpacking the boxes.

The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken.

As she placed the last dessert into the fridge, she turned back to him.

He stood by the door now, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.

"Do you always do this for people?" she asked lightly, trying to break the tension. "Carry their desserts and climb stairs without question?"

His lips quirked into the faintest smile. "No sweetheart. Just for you."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming. "Well, lucky me then," she murmured, trying to sound casual.

"You should get some rest," he said, his tone shifting to something gentler. "You’ve had a long day."

She nodded, walking him to the door.

As he stepped out, he paused, turning to look at her one last time.

"If you need anything, call me."

Her throat tightened slightly at the sincerity in his voice, but she managed a small smile. "I will. Goodnight, Niklaus."

"Goodnight, Mia," he replied, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned and walked away.

As she closed the door, Hermia leaned against it, her mind swirling with thoughts she couldn’t quite untangle.

She glanced toward the kitchen where the neatly stacked desserts sat, a silent reminder of his unexpected kindness.

He’s so extra, she thought, her lips curving into a reluctant smile.

Extra, and yet, somehow, she didn’t mind.

Hermia sighed deeply as she sank into her couch, her body sinking into the worn cushions.

It wasn’t the plush, luxurious kind of couch that wrapped you in comfort.

No, it was the kind of practical furniture that came with the apartment when she leased it, the kind she hadn’t had the money to replace.

She glanced at the faded fabric, her fingers lightly tracing over a threadbare patch near the armrest.

It wasn’t much, but it was home, and she reminded herself to be grateful for that.

Her gaze flickered around the small living room, taking in the sparse decorations she’d managed to piece together over time.

A few framed prints she’d found on sale, a mismatched rug she’d picked up at a thrift store, and a secondhand lamp that leaned slightly to one side.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers, and for now, that was enough.

The hum of the city outside filtered through her closed windows, a constant reminder of the bustling world beyond her little sanctuary.

She kicked off her shoes, wriggling her toes as she leaned back with a tired groan.

"I need a shower," she muttered to herself, pushing off the couch and heading to her bedroom.

Her room wasn’t much bigger than the living room, but it had a certain charm.

The bed, draped in a simple lavender comforter, sat neatly in the corner.

A tiny desk cluttered with papers and pens was shoved against the opposite wall, and her closet door hung slightly ajar, revealing the chaos inside.