Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others

Her father had married another woman barely a month after breaking off his engagement with her mother. It wasn't until later that everyone discovered her mother had been pregnant with her all along.

And then there was Selena's mother, who gave birth only two months after Hermia. The math didn't lie. 

If her mother was a "slut," then what did that make Selena's mother, who clearly had been carrying Selena out of wedlock? And what about their father?

The truth was clear, even if no one spoke it aloud. Her father had been cheating just as much, if not more. 

But, of course, the Blackwoods would never see it that way. It was easier to paint her mother as the villain—and by extension, Hermia—as the unwanted product of that scandal.

Hermia's hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. If she were anyone else, she might have called them out right then and there. 

But what good would it do? In their eyes, she would always be less than.

Her gaze darted back to Niklaus, who stood with a cold glare silently beside her, his towering frame radiating a quiet strength. 

She didn't know what he was doing but for the first time in years, she felt the stirrings of something she hadn't dared to feel—hope.

What would happen now?

Selena rushed forward, yanking Hermia back abruptly. "You're such a troublemaker, Hermia! How could you just fall into his arms like that? You've probably stained his jacket," she said, her voice dripping with faux concern.

Without missing a beat, Selena turned to Niklaus, her hands outstretched, reaching for his immaculate chest. "May I help—"

But Niklaus cut her off sharply, his voice like a blade. "No. I'm fine, thank you," he said coldly. His piercing blue eyes locked on hers, freezing her in place. "And for the record, I drew her into my arms. You'd know that if you were paying the right attention."

Selena's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her embarrassment stark against her perfect complexion. "I was only trying to—"

"Be presumptuous?" he interjected, his tone biting. "I invited her to this party," he continued, his words slicing through the murmurs in the hall.

The declaration sent a ripple of shock through the crowd. Even Hermia's breath hitched.

He invited me? Her eyes widened as she met his steady gaze. How does he even know I'm back?

A week ago, no one had been home when the security guard delivered an anonymous invitation to her. 

Though suspicious, she had clung to it as an excuse to leave the suffocating confines of the Blackwood estate. 

Now, standing here, the realization that Niklaus himself had been behind it made her stomach twist with confusion.

"Oh my God, Niklaus himself invited her?"

"No wonder she's acting all haughty," someone whispered.

"Wait, when did she come back from the US? How does she even know him?"

"From the US? Maybe they met there," another chimed in.

Hermia glanced at Niklaus again, his expression unreadable as he continued to regard her with a faint trace of interest. The murmurs of the crowd buzzed like flies around her, heavy with assumptions and jealousy.

"Who is she, anyway?"

"What's her name again?"

She frowned, her mind racing. Did I know him? She couldn't recall ever meeting him before today. His face, his presence—they didn't stir any memories. Yet here he was, claiming her as his invited guest.

What is happening here?

The weight of the stares pressing down on her was suffocating. 

She didn't like this kind of attention, not from these people who thrived on tearing others apart with their whispers. 

Not in the presence of a man who held the power to command a room with just a few words.

"You invited her? When, why, and how do you even know her?" Selena asked bitterly, her voice laced with accusation.

Niklaus didn't flinch. He stood cold and poised, his expression carved from stone. "That is none of your business," he replied, his tone cutting. 

"You came here for a birthday party, and that is what you should've focused on instead of harassing another guest." he said.

Selena opened her mouth, but Niklaus had already turned to Hermia, his icy gaze softening. "Are you okay, Mia?" he asked gently, the warmth in his voice shocking everyone present.

A heavy silence fell over the room, the air thick with disbelief.

Niklaus Hathaway—the coldest, most ruthless man they knew—was looking at Hermia with a tenderness no one had ever seen. 

The man who graced countless magazines with his stoic glare and zero tolerance for nonsense had not only caught her but was asking if she was fine after causing a scene.

Hermia straightened instinctively, every nerve on edge as the room's attention bore down on her. 

She could feel the judgment, the jealousy, the curiosity simmering in the air.

"I apologize," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes dropped to his chin. 

She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean to cause such a ruckus."

"If you didn't want to cause a ruckus, you shouldn't have come in the first place," Selena interjected, her voice deceptively sweet, as though she were lightly scolding a wayward child.

Niklaus's eyes narrowed, his head tilting slightly as his focus snapped back to Selena. "Are you saying she should have rejected my invitation?"

Selena froze, her face paling. She stammered, the confidence draining from her posture. "Oh God, no! I… I mean, if she was going to be so distracting and attention-seeking, she could have politely declined. It is a birthday party, after all," she finished, her voice trembling but still laced with faux civility.

Niklaus's irritation darkened, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel. "Who are you?" he asked abruptly.

The room collectively tensed. Everyone knew this was a dangerous question—except Selena, oblivious to the subtle shift in atmosphere.

She brightened, misreading the situation entirely. "I'm Selena. Selena Blackwood," she said proudly, her neck craning as she stood taller, convinced she was about to redeem herself.