Both your situations mirror mine quite precisely.
My father was the classic NPD - charming, delightful and saintly to outsiders, yet smug, cruel, calculating and heartless behind closed doors. My eldest sister picked up these traits from a young age. Others in the family were enablers who learned to lack empathy towards the assigned family whipping boy. By posing as a normal family, they had the perfect position to maximise damage while deflecting outsiders who might have come to my aid.
The time when I was learning to drive was the epitome of the situation. I asked for lessons, but he mostly pretended he was busy and procrastinated endlessly. In the end, out of desperation, I paid out of my meagre savings for a couple of lessons and attempted a driving test, which I miraculously passed.
But while on the road, I badly lacked experience and made major mistakes on a couple of occasions, including missing a Give Way sign, that could have gotten someone killed. I could have ended up in jail, and I would have been the bad guy, with my father feigning confusion and pretending to be the victim of an uncontrollable son. It was then that I realised he would have actually enjoyed seeing me die, and there was no limit to his sadistic mind games or lack of compassion.
Father and sister had the power to make outsiders who might have supported me feel total hatred towards me just by manufacturing a false narrative portraying me as the classic, hostile young man. If I tried to counter with the claim that they are conspiring against me and trying to cut off my support in a bid to destroy me, I was the one who sounded like the raving lunatic who should be shunned. I lost all support and had to battle my way through life with no education, no money, no knowledge of how the world works, no confidence to connect with people, etc.
I fought to figure everything out, got humble jobs, bought an inexpensive house that is now almost paid off and learned to feign normality enough to survive. Some might consider me a survival success story, but by missing out on ever feeling loved, my daily levels of grief are so high that I likely don't have long for this world. The lesson I have learned: the narcissists will always win. The end.
I tend to get triggered when the very few mutual contacts made comments that I should 'forgive' him or that I'm wrong for portraying him as evil because everyone else has their stories about being charmed and seduced by his 'saintliness'. My emotional instability around this issue makes me look like the bad guy and caused me to fall into the trap that had been laid, further advancing the narrative of my abusers. I have to marvel, almost with appreciative admiration, at what spectacular evil people are capable of.
