I told you I had another update for you! And trust me, it's just getting good!

Mercedes sat behind her massive glass desk, fingers gliding over the smooth surface as she gazed out at the breathtaking panoramic view of New York City.

Her new office was perfection.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the skyline, casting the room in natural light. The entire space was a blend of elegance and warmth, her personal touch evident in every detail.

The walls were painted in soft lavender, accented with blush pink and deep plum. A plush, velvet sofa in dusty rose sat against one side of the room, paired with luxe gold and glass coffee tables.

On the opposite side, a small sitting area featured a deep purple chaise lounge, perfect for late-night brainstorming sessions. A tall bookshelf, lined with bestsellers and literary awards, stood proudly in the corner, a tribute to the work she had poured her soul into and it also hid her personal bathroom.

It was everything she had ever wanted.

And yet, as she sat there, staring at the crystal plaque on her desk—the one Sam had given her—she felt an ache she couldn't quite shake.

Before she could dwell on it, the door swung open, and in walked Kitty.

"Okay, boss lady," Kitty grinned, breezing in with a clipboard in one hand and an iPad in the other. "Your schedule is insane, but nothing we can't handle."

Mercedes chuckled, standing to stretch. "Lay it on me."

Kitty flipped through her notes. "Alright, so you've got a meeting with Holly Holiday's team at ten, lunch with Shelby at one, and an event later this evening to celebrate the official relaunch of Cochern, Howell & Jones."

Mercedes nodded, taking it all in.

Kitty lowered her clipboard slightly, her expression softening. "Mercedes… seriously, thank you for bringing me with you. This is the opportunity of a lifetime."

Mercedes smiled warmly. "Kitty, I can't do this without you."

Kitty beamed. "Damn right, you can't."

A knock at the door.

Both women turned as Silas stepped inside, grinning.

Mercedes' face lit up. "Silas!"

She rushed over and hugged him tightly.

Silas chuckled, hugging her back. "I was on my way to see Sugar and her fancy new digs on what she's now calling the 'Fashion Floor,' but I wanted to check on you first."

Mercedes stepped back, nodding. "I'm great."

Silas glanced at her desk, and his eyes immediately landed on the plaque from Sam.

His smirk faded slightly. "So… you forgave him?"

Mercedes followed his gaze, her smile dimming.

She exhaled. "Sam wanted his dream. And hopefully, they can give it to him."

Silas folded his arms. "No, they can't."

Mercedes frowned. "What do you mean?"

Silas sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Sam quit. He's trying to leave New York. Go back home."

Mercedes' stomach flipped. "Sam quit?"

Kitty smiled. "Oh, that's what I wanted to tell you the other day! But when I got here, we were so busy, and it slipped my mind. But Merce, you should have seen it! Sam went off of Quinn and Russell; he told them where they could shove it and that he would sue them if they tried to use his book."

Mercedes exhaled, questions running through her mind. "Why? What did he quit, and why didn't he tell me?"

Silas sat down on the plush lavender chair across from her. "He quit because he figured it all out. Like Kitty said, he called Quinn and Russell out on their lies and walked away."

Mercedes stared at him. Her heart shouldn't have stirred. But it did.

Silas hesitated before leaning forward, his voice softer now. "Look, Mercedes, I know Sam hurt you. And if you tell me you're done with him, I'll never bring him up again. But I have to ask you something."

Mercedes folded her hands, waiting. "What?"

Silas took a deep breath. "Will you represent him?"

Mercedes' brows shot up.

Silas rushed on before she could say no. "His story needs to be told, and no one in this city believes in his book more than you. No one who will fight harder to make sure it succeeds."

Mercedes leaned back, crossing her arms. "Silas…"

"I know." Silas nodded quickly. "I know he was an idiot. I know he made the wrong choices. But Mercedes… he was lied to and manipulated, and if you knew what we went through…Mercedes, he's lost. He's about to walk away from everything because he thinks he doesn't have or deserve a shot. But you could change that."

Mercedes exhaled, closing her eyes briefly.

Could she? Could she really work with him again?

Her eyes drifted back to the plaque.

Difference Maker.

Sam had given that to her.

And the truth was? She still believed in him.

Finally, after a long silence, she looked up at Silas and sighed.

"I'll do it."

Silas grinned.

Mercedes held up a hand. "But not for Sam. I'm doing this for you. For your family. And… because even now, I still believe in his book."

Silas' grin widened. "That's all I needed to hear."

Mercedes shook her head. "Go see your girlfriend, but first, have your brother meet me at…" She looked at Kitty, who looked down at her iPad.

"I'm only helping because what he did, how he defended you to those people, it earned brownie points. You have about an hour after your lunch with Shelby."

Mercedes nodded. "Tell him to get here by two, and I will talk to him."

Silas moved to kiss Mercedes on the cheek. "No, Evans man, deserves you, but we love you anyways. I will call Sam, and then I will see you tonight, I am Sugar's plus one."

Mercedes smiled. "Goodness. Well, have your brother and Blaine come too; it will be good for him to know the other Authors."

Silas nodded as he walked out the door. Mercedes looked at Kitty.

"Did he really put Quinn and Russell in their places?"

Kitty smirked. "I had Rodrick hack into the cameras in the hall, I can show you."

Mercedes laughed as Kitty rushed towards her with the video.

Sam sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the half-packed duffel bag before him.

He had told himself that he was ready to leave.

Ready to let Mercedes go.

Ready to go back home and figure out what came next.

But the truth?

He had no damn clue what he was doing.

His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts.

Silas.

Sam exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair before answering.

"Si—"

"Shut up and listen," Silas interrupted immediately. "I just texted you an address. You need to be there at 2PM. Maybe even come early."

Sam frowned. "What? Why? What's going on?"

Silas hesitated for a beat. Then, his next words hit like a brick to Sam's chest.

"Mercedes wants to give you a shot."

Sam's breath caught.

His fingers tightened around the phone. "She… what?"

Silas sighed. "She's willing to represent you, Sam."

Sam's stomach twisted. "I don't understand."

"Well, we were talking, I told her you quit, Kitty boasted about how you quit, and she agreed to work with you again."

That wasn't what he expected. That wasn't even on his radar.

Mercedes had every reason to walk away. To be done with him.

And now… she was offering him another chance?

A lump formed in his throat.

"I can't," he said finally, voice rough. "I—Silas, I hurt her. Bad. How horrible would it be if I let her clean up my mess after everything I did?"

Silas groaned. "Sam—don't be an idiot."

"Dude—"

"No, listen to me." Silas' voice was sharp now, cutting through Sam's doubts. "You made a mistake. You screwed up. But you quit, didn't you? You walked away from Quinn, her father, and the easy way out. That has to mean something."

Sam closed his eyes.

"It doesn't mean she forgives me," he muttered.

Silas sighed. "No. It doesn't. But it means she still believes in you. And that? That's not something you take for granted."

Silas let his words sink in before adding softer, "Come on, man. You say you don't want her fixing your mistakes? She's not; she's giving you the chance to do it. So don't waste this. Don't let her down again."

Sam exhaled slowly.

He was scared.

Scared of seeing her. Terrified of facing her.

Scared of screwing up again.

But this was his shot.

And he wasn't going to let it slip away.

"… What's the address?"

Silas smirked on the other end. "That's the spirit. Look at your phone, and don't be late."

Mercedes sat at her glass desk, absently tapping against the smooth surface. The city skyline stretched out before her, bathed in the golden afternoon light.

She wore a leopard print pencil skirt, a Purple silk blouse, and matching purple heels. Her office felt like an extension of her, and she loved it.

Lunch had been a whirlwind of meetings and planning, and now she finally had a moment to breathe.

Just as she leaned back in her plush chair, her phone buzzed.

JJ.

A smile tugged at her lips as she answered.

"Hey, big brother."

"Hey, superstar," JJ's voice boomed through the speaker, full of warmth and pride. "I just had to call and say how damn proud I am of you."

Mercedes chuckled, shaking her head. "Proud of me? For what?"

JJ scoffed. "For what?! Sis, you just made history. Co-owner of one of the biggest publishing companies in the damn country. And you managed to take half of Fabray's empire with you."

Mercedes laughed, shaking her head. "I didn't take anything. They gave it away by not valuing me."

JJ hummed. "That's the best kind of revenge."

Mercedes grinned. "True."

Then, after a beat, she sighed, twisting her pen between her fingers. "But… I gotta tell you something."

JJ's voice softened. "I'm listening."

She exhaled. "I'm gonna represent Sam here."

There was a pause.

Then—"Huh."

Mercedes frowned. "That's it? No lecture?"

JJ chuckled. "I mean, I wouldn't do it. But you've always been the big-hearted, save-the-world type."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "It's not about saving him. He's talented JJ, very much so. His story deserves to be told. But I am so scared that he is going to hurt me again."

JJ was quiet for a moment. Then, he said, gently, "You remember when I first started working for those crooks the Schuesters?"

Mercedes paused. "Yeah." she sighed.

JJ let out a low chuckle. "I thought I had it made, right? Getting in on the ground floor. I thought Will was some big-shot businessman who would help me take care of you. Thought he believed in me."

Mercedes closed her eyes. She remembered all of it.

The way JJ had thrown himself into that job, working late nights and doing way more than he was getting paid for—because Will made him feel like he owed him.

"And that bastard took advantage of me," JJ continued. "Because all I could think about was making sure you had everything you needed. And it's easy to be blinded when you're that close to your dreams."

Mercedes opened her eyes, her chest tightening.

She got it.

She really did.

Because Sam had been there, he wanted to reach his dream so badly that they hurt him.

And as much as he had hurt her, she understood why a little more.

She swallowed hard. "Yeah. I get it."

JJ sighed. "I know you do. And that's why you're doing the right thing."

Mercedes felt her throat tighten.

She didn't know how much she needed to hear that.

She let out a breathy chuckle. "Damn, JJ. When did you get all wise and philosophical?"

JJ barked out a laugh. "Been wise. You just weren't paying attention."

Mercedes smiled, shaking her head. "Well, keep that wisdom coming," she teased. "And bring my babies to see me, too. I miss them."

JJ chuckled. "We all miss you, sis. And you know you don't even gotta ask. We'll be there."

Mercedes' smile softened. "And you better bring Kelly too. I need to see my other favorite person."

JJ groaned dramatically. "Ugh. I swear, you love my wife more than you love me."

Mercedes grinned. "Not more, just equally."

JJ snorted. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you soon, superstar."

Mercedes nodded, her heart feeling a little lighter.

"See you soon, JJ."

As the call ended, she sat back, gazing out over the city.

She had made her choice.

And for the first time in a long time, she knew it was right; now, she just had to keep her heart out of it.

Sam stood outside the towering building, staring up at the name Cochern, Howell & Jones gleaming in silver letters across the entrance.

Mercedes' name.

Her legacy.

He exhaled sharply, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. He wasn't sure if this was a mistake or a second chance.

But he was here.

And that had to mean something.

He stepped inside, following the receptionist's directions, and took the elevator to the top floor.

When the doors opened, he stepped into a space so polished, so powerful, it almost knocked the breath out of him.

Lavender, blush pink, deep plum. Soft yet commanding. Elegant yet strong.

Just like her.

And there she was, poised, confident at her glass desk—radiating the kind of success that had always been meant for her.

His stomach tightened.

Mercedes Jones was unstoppable.

She looked up, her expression unreadable.

"Sam," she said, calm, professional. "Have a seat."

He nodded quickly, walking forward and sitting across from her.

Mercedes folded her hands on the desk. "Before we get started, let's get one thing straight. This is business. I'm not here to be your friend. I'm not here to hold your hand. I'm here because you have a damn good book, and despite everything, I believe in it."

Sam swallowed hard. "Understood."

Mercedes nodded. "Good. Now, let's talk about how I'm going to make you a bestselling author."

She reached for a file, flipped it open, and slid it toward him.

Sam leaned in, scanning the contents. His name. His book. A complete rollout plan.

"This is the timeline," she explained. "First, we're rebranding you. Right now, people know you as the guy Quinn Fabray paraded around like a trophy. We need to fix that and remind everyone you are your own person."

Sam nodded, listening intently.

"You're going to do a full press reset," Mercedes continued. "Interviews, podcast appearances, video content showing your process as you work on your new book, all geared toward proving that you are the brains behind your book."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Won't people still associate me with… you know?"

Mercedes smirked. "Not if I control the narrative. And I will."

Sam let out a low whistle. "Damn. You're really about to fix my whole life, huh?"

Mercedes didn't smile. "I'm about to fix your career."

Sam nodded quickly, sobering. "Right. Career."

Mercedes continued. "Your book tour is happening. But we're going to be intentional. Now, while you will be available at all the generic chain bookstores—we will be hitting independent bookshops with events with the right audience for your work. We're selling you as much as we're selling the book."

Sam felt his chest tighten. "You really think I can do this?"

Mercedes looked him dead in the eyes. "If I didn't, you wouldn't be sitting here, Sam."

Sam exhaled, his hands gripping the file tightly.

She reached into her desk and pulled out a thick contract, sliding it across to him.

"This is your official signing contract with Cochern, Howell & Jones. Your advance is $500,000 for a three-book deal, and your projected earnings for the first year are estimated to be between 3.5 and 5 million dollars."

Sam froze.

"What?" he breathed.

Mercedes stayed professional and detached. "You heard me clearly."

Sam shook his head. "But I wasn't offered so much before."

Mercedes nodded. "No, you weren't because the Fabrays were money-hungry dictators who didn't make advances based on the projections. They gave to secure loyalty to Authors who don't really have anything. Here, we pay you what your book is worth. And here, I don't invest in people unless I know they will bring results. Your book? It's going to be a bestseller. And if you follow my plan, this is just the beginning."

Sam ran a hand over his jaw, stunned.

This was more than he had ever dared to imagine.

She tapped the paper. "Take this to your lawyer. Have him look it over."

Sam hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't need a lawyer."

Mercedes tilted her head. "Sam—"

"I trust you." He looked at her, sincerity clear in his eyes. "Fully. Completely."

Mercedes held his gaze for a long moment.

Then, finally, she nodded once. "Then sign."

Sam picked up the pen and signed his name without saying anything else.

It was done.

Mercedes stood, collecting the paperwork. "We start next week, and your advance will be given to you then. But before that—"

She glanced at her watch. "You will need to be at the relaunch party tonight."

Sam blinked. "Wait, what?"

Mercedes arched an eyebrow. "Did I stutter?"

Sam swallowed. "No, ma'am."

"Good," she said smoothly, gathering her things. "It's for our new authors, and since you are a new one, you are required to go. The event will be on the 12th floor. It starts at 8 PM. Silas is already coming with Sugar, so you can bring Blaine; the more, the merrier, it's business casual attire. Don't be late."

Sam stood slowly, staring at her, his heart heavier than it should have been.

Before he could stop himself, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Mercedes stiffened for a second before she relaxed in his embrace.

He closed his eyes. "I don't deserve you."

She pulled back, trying to put her guard back up; she couldn't let him get to her. "I know. I will see you out."

Sam nodded, gripping his contract like it was the most important thing in the world.

As they walked to the elevator and stood on it, Sam felt like it was that first day again, seeing her. And all he wanted was to hold, kiss, and tell her that she was everything. But in the end, Sam would step back and allow her to be his boss and maybe someday her friend.

As they reached the ground floor, Mercedes stepped off the elevator and smiled. "See you tonight, Sam." She said before walking towards her parking spot in the lot.

Sam gave her one last look and headed towards his car. For the first time since all this mess started, he had hope.