Sweet For You, Ruthless For Others

Niklaus's family was a study in contrasts, each member carrying a distinct role that made the Hathaways formidable in both reputation and legacy.

Grandma Roberta, stern and indifferent, was the unshakable matriarch of the family. She wasn't known for warmth or outward displays of affection—except for her husband, Grandpa Roberto. 

To him, she was a pillar of strength and a surprising source of tenderness, cradling his head like he was the last fragile thing on earth. 

But to everyone else, she was a force to be reckoned with, her steely resolve and sharp words capable of cutting deeper than any insult. 

If Roberta smiled at you, you often wondered if it was genuine—or a calculated move.

Grandpa Roberto, on the other hand, had earned his place in the country's collective consciousness as a dangerous man. 

Once a titan in the underworld, his name still carried weight in circles most people feared to whisper about. 

Retired now, he cloaked himself in the pretense of an old man too tired for battles, but his reputation lingered like a shadow. 

Those who knew him understood: if Roberto Hathaway ever stirred from his peaceful chair, it wouldn't be without consequences.

Lola, Niklaus's mother, was a paradox in her own right. She was ruthless with her husband, a relentless bully who demanded apologies for the smallest misstep, reducing Lorenzo to sighs and muttered "sorrys" like a student caught out by a strict teacher. 

Yet to the rest of the world, she was the epitome of charm. She had a talent for putting people at ease, her warm smiles and nurturing demeanor masking the sharp mind that ruled the Hathaway household like a queen.

Lorenzo, the family patriarch and Niklaus's father, was as cutthroat in business as Niklaus himself, if not more so. 

A business mogul with an eye for expansion, Lorenzo had built much of the Hathaway empire alongside his father. 

He wasn't above using competitive tactics or ruthless decision-making to secure the family's dominance, which often put him at odds with Niklaus. 

The two shared a similar fire, a relentless need to achieve, and it was this very similarity that made their relationship an unspoken battlefield.

Together, the Hathaways were an intricate, dysfunctional machine—each member a cog that turned in its unique way but ultimately propelled the entire family forward. 

Whether through fear, love, or necessity, they stayed united, a fortress the outside world could only envy—or dread.

But the Hathaway was a much larger family and as every family has a dark side. This family has a darker side too.

They all stepped in the dining room.

The dining room of the Hathaway mansion was an elegant space, its long oak table glinting under the soft glow of an ornate chandelier. 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and an array of breakfast dishes filled the air, yet a quiet tension lingered among the family members.

Niklaus sat at the head of the table, his movements measured as he unfolded his napkin. 

He was dressed impeccably in a crisp black suit, though his slightly disheveled hair and dark circles betrayed his lack of sleep. 

His brother, Dante, sprawled lazily in his chair across from him, a stark contrast in casual attire and demeanor.

Lola, their mother, smiled warmly at Niklaus as she set down her cup of tea. "We made your favorite, Niklaus—eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and truffle oil."

Niklaus glanced at the plate in front of him and gave a faint smile, his tone polite. "Thank you, Mom." He took a deliberate bite, savoring the flavors.

Dante, however, wasn't about to let the moment pass. "Wow, must be nice having a favorite," he muttered dramatically, waving his fork. "Nobody ever knows my favorite meal."

Grandma Roberta, seated to Dante's left, gave him a withering look. "That's because you don't have a favorite, Dante. You eat anything put in front of you like a stray dog."

Dante grinned and jabbed his fork into his hash browns. "And yet I'm the happiest one at this table."

The family chuckled softly, but as the sound faded, an air of expectation settled over them. The conversation slowed to a halt, replaced by the clinking of cutlery against fine china. 

Then Grandma Roberta cleared her throat—an ominous sound that immediately drew everyone's attention.

"Niklaus," she began, folding her hands neatly in front of her. Her voice was deceptively calm, but Niklaus knew better. "Have you given any thought to marriage?"

Niklaus froze mid-bite, his fork lingering just inches from his plate. He pressed his lips together, bracing himself. 

Of course, this topic would come up—it always did.

Lola chimed in, her tone tinged with feigned innocence. "We're just curious, darling. You're running one of the most successful family businesses in the country, but you're not getting any younger. Don't you think it's time to find someone?"

"Or," Grandma Roberta added, "we could arrange a blind date for you. There are plenty of suitable women from good families."

Niklaus sighed and set his fork down, his appetite quickly evaporating. "You mean women who could 'help the company,'" he said dryly, glancing at his father, Lorenzo, who had yet to join the conversation.

Lorenzo, ever pragmatic, finally looked up from his plate. "Exactly. This isn't just about you, Niklaus. Marriage is strategic. It's about strengthening alliances, not just emotions."

Niklaus's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, his mother interjected. "Oh, Lorenzo, don't be so old-fashioned. If Niklaus wants to marry someone from the U.S., we won't judge. Right, Roberto?"

Grandpa Roberto, who had been half-asleep with his head resting against Grandma Roberta's shoulder, mumbled, "Sure. Just make sure she's not useless."

Niklaus exhaled sharply through his nose and leaned back in his chair. "This," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation, "is exactly why I hate dining with you all. You make my life unbearable."

"Eat," Grandma Roberta snapped, glaring at him. "You've been picking at your food like a bird."

"I've lost my appetite," Niklaus replied, his tone cold. "And for the record, stop thinking it's your job to pick a wife for me."

Dante, who had been contentedly shoveling food into his mouth, decided to weigh in. "Glad I don't have to deal with that. I'm never getting married."

The room fell silent, and all eyes turned toward him. Even Grandpa Roberto opened one eye to look at Dante, his expression unreadable.

"Excuse me?" Grandma Roberta said, her voice low and dangerous.

Dante shrugged, chewing loudly. "Marriage isn't for me. Too much drama. Besides, I like my freedom."

"That's enough," Lorenzo said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

A serious conversation followed, the weight of family expectations and responsibilities hanging heavy in the air. 

Dante quickly retreated into silence, realizing he'd struck a nerve he hadn't meant to.

Niklaus, however, had had enough. After taking a few more bites out of obligation, he stood abruptly and adjusted his jacket. "I'm going to work."

His father tried to stop him. "Before you go—about the client meeting next week—"

"Lorenzo," Lola interrupted sharply, glaring at her husband. "Let him leave."

Niklaus grabbed his coat and keys, sparing a final glance at his family. "Enjoy breakfast," he said curtly before heading toward the door.

As he stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit him, bringing a small measure of relief. He sighed deeply, loosening his tie as he walked toward his car. 

His mind, however, remained burdened with the weight of the expectations his family placed on him.

Sometimes, he wondered if the Hathaway empire was a blessing or a curse.