Sweet For You, Ruthl Chapter 31: Ask Her Away, Go Back!!

Chapter 31: Ask Her Away, Go Back!!.

"What did I even do?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly, though I hated that it did.

Mariela’s lips curled into a cruel smile as if she had been waiting for this mont. "I’ll tell your father everything you’ve been doing," she spat, her tone thick with malice. "You just wait."

I clenched my jaw, my fingers digging into my palm. It didn’t matter what I said. It never did. The truth was irrelevant when she and Selena could twist it into whatever fit their narrative.

So, I did the only thing that made sense—I turned and walked away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of another reaction. I climbed the stairs with asured steps, but each one felt heavier than the last. By the ti I reached my room, I was drained.

Shutting the door behind , I exhaled sharply and dropped onto my bed, face down. The torn dress clung to my skin like a second layer of sha, a raw reminder of everything that had happened tonight.

What a life.

I stared blankly at the mattress, my thoughts spiraling.

What would my father say? Would he even hear

out? I could already see it—Mariela’s exaggerated outrage, Selena’s crocodile tears, both of them weaving their perfect story while I struggled to get a word in.

But I had done nothing wrong tonight. I had spoken with my father’s acquaintances, and they had adored . Surely that counted for sothing.

Did it?

A bitter laugh almost escaped . When had I started thinking I could actually win in this house?

I should get up. Freshen up. Change out of this dress. Be ready to face him when he cos back.

But my body refused to move.

Exhaustion wrapped around , pulling

down. My eyelids grew heavy, my limbs sinking into the mattress.

Ugh.

The last thing I felt before sleep claid

was the delicate fabric of the ruined dress against my skin—beautiful, but broken.

Just like .

>>>>>>>>>

I stirred in my sleep, groggy and disoriented, as soone rudely called my na.

"Hermia!"

My heart lurched. I recognized that voice instantly—Selena.

I snapped awake, my cheek still pressed against the bed. My eyes fluttered open as reality crashed over

like ice water.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I fell asleep.

Before I could process anything further, my bedroom door burst open. Selena stood there, arms crossed, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"Get up. Dad is calling for you," she said, her voice laced with satisfaction.

My stomach sank. "He’s back?"

Selena smirked, savoring my unease. "I’m not obliged to answer that," she said flippantly before turning on her heel and sauntering out of the room.

A drumbeat of panic pounded in my chest. He’s back already? I had wanted to be prepared—composed, changed, ready to explain myself.

But here I was—still in the torn dress from earlier, unprepared, vulnerable.

Moving on autopilot, I stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The mirror reflected a pale, weary girl with tired eyes and trembling hands.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Just explain everything calmly.

But even as I told myself that, I knew the truth. It wouldn’t be fine.

He rarely listened to .

There was no ti to dwell. I had to face him.

I hurried downstairs, the hushed murmurs of conversation reaching

before I even stepped into the living room.

"She can’t remain in this house," Mariela’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. "She’s driving a wedge between this family and the business!"

"Mariela, please," my father sighed, sounding exhausted.

"You didn’t take it seriously when she was trying to destroy Selena. Now she’s coming after you—and you are the company."

I froze.

What?

What had I supposedly done to the company?

I quickened my pace, stepping into the room. "Dad," I called softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Godfrey turned to , his expression unreadable, but the weight of judgnt was already there. Selena sat beside him, practically vibrating with eagerness to see

fall.

Then, in a tone so asured it sent a chill down my spine, my father asked, "How was your night?"

The question startled . It felt like a trap.

Before I could answer, Selena whined, "Dad!" Her outrage was clear—how dare he give

a chance to speak?

He silenced her with a glare. Mariela reached over to pat Selena’s hand soothingly, whispering sothing I couldn’t hear.

I swallowed. "It didn’t go exactly as planned, but—"

"Hermia," my father interrupted, his voice suddenly laced with venom. "You’ve destroyed

in just one night."

I went still.

My breath caught in my throat.

This is it.

The mont I was dreading.

"Dad, it wasn’t !" I blurted. "I made acquaintances with many of the other big companies tonight. You know I—"

"Shut up!"

The force of his bark made

flinch.

"Mr. Garfield called to inform

that I have an uncultured, immoral daughter. Because of you, the Garfields will no longer continue working with us!"

The words hit like a physical blow. I reeled from them, my pulse pounding in my ears.

I turned to Selena, who smirked.

Of course.

"I’m not the daughter he’s talking about," I said, my voice trembling with fury. "Dad, Selena was her worst self at the function. She tore my dress—"

"Did you do all this over a dress?!"

The roar of my father’s voice sliced through my defense.

I blinked. Stunned. "No! I only wanted—"

"You’re leaving this house!" he thundered. "I can’t have you here anymore. Go back to the U.S.! At least there, you don’t cause this much trouble."

My world tilted.

He’s... sending

away? Just like that?

For years, I had worked hard, studied endlessly, preparing to stand beside him in the company.

Now, he was exiling

like so unwanted inconvenience.

"Dad, no!" I pleaded. "I want to stay. I’ve studied so hard, and I’m ready to—"

But he was already picking up his phone.

"Dad, what are you doing?" My voice rose in panic.

He didn’t look at

as he barked into the receiver, "Co in here!"

Monts later, workers entered the room, standing at attention.

"Bring all of Hermia’s clothes and belongings down here," he ordered coldly. "She’s leaving for the U.S. imdiately—and she’s staying for a long ti."

I stared, frozen.

This wasn’t punishnt.

This was exile.

How?

How did it co to this?

Why am I the only one paying for this?

Maybe... maybe if I apologized. He just wanted to see remorse, right? Maybe if I begged, he would change his mind.

I sniffed, swallowing my pride. "Dad, please... don’t send

back. I don’t want to be alone."

My voice wavered, my chest tightening. I had never begged before, but if it ant keeping my place here, I would.

I searched his face for a flicker of warmth, so sign that he cared.

But there was nothing.

Mariela smirked. Selena’s eyes glittered with triumph.

And my father... he was resolute.

"Enough," he said, his voice like ice. "You’ve made your bed; now lie in it."

I barely noticed the workers moving around , packing up my life piece by piece.

Then, realization crashed over .

They’re serious. This isn’t a threat. They really want

gone.

A hollow, bitter laugh slipped from my lips. It wasn’t humor. It was despair. Exhaustion.

They had broken .

Every cruel word. Every accusation. Every betrayal.

Selena’s smug smirk. Mariela’s victorious stare.

And my father—who condemned

without hesitation.

I sucked in a breath.

And suddenly... I saw things clearly.

I don’t need them. I never did.

The hope I had clung to for years—the hope that one day, we could be a real family—shattered into tiny, irretrievable pieces.

They’ve shown

who they truly are.

My father is a disappointnt.

And Mariela and Selena? They’re nothing but cruel shadows in my life.

For the first ti in forever, I saw a way forward.

It wasn’t the path I had envisioned.

But it was mine.