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Constantijn is not a good person. In fact, he's a rather despicable human being, capable of cruelty, malice and apathy on a scale that is usually reserved for monsters wearing human skin. He simply does not care about... well, anyone.
Doctors and headshrinkers will say that it comes from a childhood best survived with that apathy, fortified by cruelty and enlivened only through malice. They'll say that with the perversion of the only guardian he ever really knew, shacking up with his baby sister the moment she reached the too-low Spanish age of maturity, any and all close ties became worthless. (Her screaming at him and trying to claw his eyes out when he refused to accept their "love" only made this worse)
When he came to the states, the rotten underbelly of New York was almost too perfect for him. Antonio had never given him much, but the Carriedo name meant something here and Constantijn flourished in places where having a soul or moral compass was a detriment.
Arthur Kirkland saw this, schemed in a way only a truly blue-blooded monster can scheme and plucked him right out of the muck and into the Real Big Time. Kirkland needed a numbers man, a set of eyes trained on the international markets who knew what they were looking at. He needed someone who did not and would not care about the aftermath.
He needed a man who, pardon the overused phrasing, just wanted to watch the world burn.
Constantijn was that man.
Arthur, however, never factored in any other variables that could challenge his schemes. He certainly didn't bet on Stijn finding a reason not to set the world on fire (Which he should have, for all men must find their weakness someday, he supposes)
He most certainly never ever thought that weakness would be found close to his own heart.