I know you've been waiting for an update, so wait no longer!

Sam glanced at the clock on his computer screen, mentally juggling several contracts that needed his signature. It had been a week since he and Mercedes said more than two words to each other. Across from him, his new assistant, Blaine, stood with a digital tablet in hand, reading off the next appointment.

"So you and Ms. Jones have a meeting to go over and sign-" Blaine paused in mid-sentence, pressing a finger to his earpiece. "Mr. Evans, there's, um, a visitor here to see you."

Sam frowned, half-expecting a client or possibly his father. "A visitor? Did they say who they are?"

Blaine's eyes shifted uncomfortably. "She didn't give me a last name. Just said her name was Charlie."

"Charlie?" Sam repeated, brow furrowing. The name didn't ring a bell—at least not immediately. "Did she say what it was regarding?"

"No sir, just that it's important."

Sam groaned. "Send her in, I guess."

Blaine nodded, stepping out to escort her. A few moments later, the office door opened again, and a woman in a long tan trench coat sauntered in on stiletto heels.

"Sam Evans," she drawled, her tone dripping with confidence as she closed the door behind her. Blaine, clearly uncertain, lingered in the hall before it shut.

Sam stood from behind his desk, confusion plain on his face. "Uh… do I know you?"

Charlie gave him a slow once-over, then smirked. "Not yet, but Mr. Jones told me all about you."

Sam felt a chill run down his spine. "You're… from Julien Jones?"

She nodded, shrugging out of the trench coat's belt. "Let's just say I'm a gift from him to you."

Before Sam could respond, Charlie let the coat slide from her shoulders, revealing a skimpy pink lingerie set that left very little to the imagination. Sam's eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling.

"What the hell—? Put your coat back on! You can't be in here! Especially not dressed like that!" he hissed, glancing at the office door. Anyone could walk in at any moment.

Charlie took a step forward, a sultry smile on her lips as she moved closer. "Don't be shy. I'm here to make sure you're… satisfied. Julien said you might need a little stress relief, and I wasn't supposed to take no for an answer."

Sam's jaw clenched. Of course, Julien would pull something like this, it was what he did for himself, and he was desperate to make Sam into a heartless asshole. But it was bad enough that Julien said what he did to Sam now that Charlie was in the building; it could sow doubt in Mercedes and make him look unfaithful. "I'm not interested. Now get out."

Charlie pouted, then in a swift move, she plunked herself down on the edge of Sam's desk. "You're really going to turn down a free sample? Julien said you liked to… explore options. Well, consider me an option. And if you like it, we can make this a weekly thing."

"Listen," Sam began, anger lacing his voice. "I don't know what you've been told, but you need to leave. Now."

Instead, Charlie tried to slide closer, her hand brushing against Sam's tie. "Why so tense?" she purred. "I can help with that."

Just then, the office door clicked open again—this time without a knock. Mercedes stepped inside, a stack of folders pressed to her chest.

"I have those-." She paused mid-step, her gaze zeroing in on Charlie's suggestive outfit and her close proximity to Sam.

The air practically crackled with tension.

Mercedes's eyes flicked from Charlie's skimpy attire to Sam's furious expression. The files trembled slightly in her grip. "Oh hell to the naw!" she spat, her voice tight as if she barely trusted herself to speak.

Sam spun around, relief and panic warring on his face. "Mercedes, this isn't— She just—" He stepped away from Charlie, holding up both hands in surrender.

Charlie, unbothered, hopped off the desk and crossed the short distance to Sam in a single stride. "I'm just here to entertain Mr. Evans," she said with a wicked grin, turning her gaze to Mercedes. "A little fatherly gift from Julien, if you must know. He said you were homely. Now I see why Mr. Evans needs me."

Mercedes blinked, her heart pounding. She glanced at Sam, who looked mortified, then back at Charlie. Her jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry," Mercedes said, her voice cold and clipped, "but exactly who do you think you are—waltzing in here, half-naked, in my fiancé's office?"

Charlie cocked a hip, refusing to show any shame. "I just told you, I am here to spice up his day."

Sam glared at Charlie. "Enough. Get. Out. Right. Now."

"Before I throw you out." Mercedes growled.

Charlie's smugness wavered at their tones, and she grabbed her trench coat anyway and slid it on, glaring at Mercedes before heading to the door. "Fine," she spat, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "But Mr. Jones will hear about this."

"Oh, you can bet your flat ass he will." Mercedes gritted out.

As soon as she disappeared, the room fell silent. Sam turned to Mercedes, his expression pleading, anger, and embarrassment mixing in his eyes. "Mercedes, I swear, I had nothing to do with that. She showed up out of nowhere."

Mercedes exhaled sharply, struggling to steady her breathing. "So… my father really sent her?" she said, her voice laced with hurt and confusion.

Sam nodded, running a hand over his face. "Looks like it. Trust me, I told her to leave. I'm not interested in anyone but you."

She swallowed hard, clutching the files protectively to her chest. Memories of her father's cruel words about Sam and his 'options' flashed through her mind. "I already signed this, so I'll just leave these here, " she said, placing the files down and turning away.

Sam shook his head vigorously. "Mercedes, please… I'm not interested in anyone but you". He hesitated, then stepped forward, gently touching her arm. "Mercedes, I'm sorry you had to see that. I wouldn't have wanted you to ever—"

Mercedes held his gaze torn between anger at her father's manipulations and an odd sense of relief at Sam's obvious horror. "What the hell is my father thinking? Why would he think that was ok?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of betrayal and rage.

Sam didn't have an answer, just a grim expression. After a moment, she nodded tightly, blinking away the frustration in her eyes. "Fine. Let's just… finish the day."

Mercedes moved toward the door, and Sam couldn't shake the image of Charlie's smirk or the damage Julien seemed bent on causing. They were not giving up, and he needed to determine his next steps.

The ride home was a quiet one for Mercedes. She kept replaying what she had walked in on. Sam's face made it clear that the woman was unwanted. But learning it was a gift from her father made her question if Sam was really taking him up on his deal.

Sam hadn't spoken to her about any of it, and she thought she hadn't given him the chance to be honest. This was mainly because she didn't know what she would say to him if she learned he was as big a bastard as her father.

But if they were going to be together, then she needed to trust him and allow him to prove her right or wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Mercedes opened the door to the penthouse, bracing herself for whatever might be waiting.

A cloud of rich, mouthwatering aromas instantly hit her—rosemary, garlic, and the faint sweetness of caramelizing onions. A soft hum of conversation drifted in from the living room area, accompanied by the clink and clatter of plates.

Stepping out of her heels, Mercedes followed the sounds. She rounded the corner to find Rebecca, Stefanie, and Mary in the open-concept living space, directing caterers who bustled about setting up covered chafing dishes and trays.

Stefanie glanced over her shoulder first, spotting Mercedes. "There you are! You're just in time."

Mary turned, warmth in her smile but a hint of curiosity in her gaze. "We're doing a food tasting for the wedding. Sam mentioned you both had a spare evening, so we called in a catering team at the last minute."

Rebecca nodded, crossing her arms lightly as she surveyed the sumptuous spread. "Come see, sweetheart—there's quite a variety. We've got seared salmon, a carving station for beef, veggie options—"

Mercedes managed a polite smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It looks great. If you'll excuse me for just a minute… I need to get changed and then we can get started."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and hurried toward the bedroom hallway. Her chest felt tight, and she was fighting to keep her composure in front of everyone.

A moment later, she swung open the door to her bedroom and let out a shaky breath. She was about to reach for the zipper on her dress when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Mercedes?" Rebecca's gentle voice called. "May I come in?"

Mercedes hesitated, then sighed. "Sure."

Rebecca slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. She took one look at Mercedes—at the trembling in her hands and the unshed tears brimming in her eyes—and her expression softened.

"What's going on, honey?" Rebecca asked, stepping closer, concern written across her features.

The moment she saw that warmth and understanding, Mercedes' composure cracked. Her eyes filled with tears, and she flung her arms around Rebecca, burying her face in the older woman's shoulder. Sobs wracked her body, and she clung to Rebecca as though letting go would make the pain overwhelm her.

"Oh, Mercy…tell me what's going on?"

"I-I heard da-da-Julien and Sam….in h-his office…" she choked out between ragged breaths, trying to piece together the words. Rebecca took her hand and helped her to calm down before Mercedes continued. "I overheard them talking. He wants to take my land, and he offered Sam women and stuff… it was awful. Then—some woman— was in the office in lingerie, saying my father sent her for Sam! I don't care if he hates me, I don't care…but that's mom's land…how could he!"

Rebecca's arms tightened around Mercedes, one hand stroking her back reassuringly. "Oh, honey…"

Mercedes took a shaky breath, pulling back just enough to look at Rebecca. "How could he just tell me its mine and now he wants to take away it away… and he's telling Sam to— to push me around. To act like… like I'm nothing but his possession. And then that woman… she showed up half-naked in Sam's office. I-I saw it…"

Tears spilled down Mercedes' cheeks anew. The betrayal, the confusion, and the hurt all mingled together, leaving her breathless.

Rebecca cupped Mercedes' face gently, wiping away a tear with her thumb. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice hushed with empathy. Your father… he has his way of doing things, and none of it is fair to you. And Sam—did he encourage that woman?"

Mercedes shook her head, swallowing hard. "He told her to leave, but I just… I don't know what to think anymore. About him or about my father."

Rebecca nodded solemnly, pulling Mercedes back into a warm hug. "I'm here, sweetheart," she whispered. "It's all right to feel hurt and confused. We'll figure this out. You're not alone."

"He is no longer my father…I can't…Rebecca, I have done everything he has asked of me. Hell, I got engaged! And he does this? I am done."

"I understand and support you and will help you with this."

Mercedes let herself sink into that embrace, letting Rebecca's steady presence calm her racing thoughts. Eventually, she pulled away, taking in a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't apologize," Rebecca cut in gently. "You needed someone to lean on, and I'm glad it could be me. I promised you that I would support you, so I am keeping my word. And some advice…I have seen how Sam looks at you, Mercedes, and he would never choose your dad over you. Give him a chance to prove you either right or wrong."

Mercedes pressed her lips together, nodding. "I will, and I love you."

"I love you too." Rebecca brushed a final tear from Mercedes' cheek. "Why don't you take a moment, freshen up if you need to, and come back out when you're ready? We'll handle things out there. You don't have to rush."

Mercedes managed a wavering smile. "Thank you."

Rebecca squeezed her hands encouragingly. "I'll let Stefanie and Mary know you're just changing. Take all the time you need."

With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving Mercedes alone—still hurt and uncertain but comforted by the fact she wasn't facing this battle entirely on her own.

Sam gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He could've let his driver take him but needed to clear his mind. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and images of Mercedes's hurt face flashed through his mind. He fumbled for his phone, tapping the speed dial for Julian Jones.

"Sam." Julian's voice came over the line, clipped and impatient.

Sam drew in a calming breath, but it did nothing to quell the fury building in his chest. "What the hell was that woman doing in my office?" he demanded, his voice low and tight. She said you sent her to me.

Julian let out a bored sigh. "Oh, that. Yes, I thought you might enjoy a little… diversion."

"Diversion?" Sam spat the word like it tasted foul. "You sent a half-naked woman to my place of work. That's not a harmless prank—it's a liability! Not to mention the fact that your daughter was there!"

A hint of amusement laced Julian's tone. "Well, what can I say? Risks of being caught add to the thrill. So, what did you think of her? Sexy right? Look, Sam. No one's forcing you to ignore your other options—"

"Options? You mean your daughter?" Sam nearly growled, yanking the car into the next lane. "Who I'm engaged to?"

"Well, you're also a man of means," Julian countered. "Don't act like you don't know how this works, especially if Mercedes decides to lock you out of the bedroom while you two quarrel. I did you a favor and made a statement to my daughter."

Sam's stomach twisted at the memory of Mercedes's pained expression earlier. "That may be how you operate, but not me."

Julian cut him off with a careless chuckle. "Save the speeches, Sam. There's plenty more where Charlie came from, and I will be more discrete if you insist on playing the good fiancé. Don't forget we have real business to handle, and I expect you to keep Mercedes in line. Or do I need to send a stronger reminder?"

Sam's grip on the wheel tightened again, anger spiking through his veins. "Stay out of my personal life, and I mean that." he ground out. "This is between me and Mercedes. And you can keep your 'reminders' to yourself. You're pushing too far, Julian. Let us not forget that you retired, and I hold shares in your company. You keep trying to push Mercedes and me apart, and I will do everything in my power to screw you over."

"Hm," Julian said, unimpressed. "We'll see about that. My daughter knows family is first, and we'll see if she chooses you, someone she now sees as a cheater, or me."

With that, the line clicked dead, leaving Sam grinding his teeth. He pressed his hand to his forehead, swearing under his breath. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Mercedes—but Julian wasn't going to make this easy on either of them.

He steeled himself as he pressed the accelerator, determined to reach the penthouse and try to fix the damage before it got any worse.