There was no way I could leave you with that cliff hanger! Enjoy
The tension in the room cracked, reaching a breaking point. And then Dwight smiled. It wasn't a smile of warmth or affection but a chilling display of power and cruelty.
"I have entertained you and your whore long enough. I am done with this," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He nodded curtly to Puck.
The door behind them swung open, and five guards marched in, their faces grim, their movements practiced. Before Sam could react, Brody Weston entered the room.
Sam's mind reeled. He barely had time to register Brody's presence before Puck and Brody lunged, their movements swift and brutal.
"Don't worry, Sammy," Puck sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "I'll take care of your baby, momma. And when I'm done, Brody will."
"Hey! I thought I get first dibs?" Brody laughed.
Sam roared, his fist connecting with Puck's jaw in a satisfying crunch. But Puck recovered quickly, tackling Sam to the ground. They crashed into Dwight's desk, sending papers flying.
"Take her away," Dwight ordered, his voice cold and detached.
"Sam!" Mercedes screamed, her voice filled with terror. She fought against the guards, her struggles futile against their superior strength.
Sam thrashed against Puck and Brody's hold, desperation lending him strength. But they were too strong, their grip unyielding. A third guard joined the fray, pinning Sam's arms behind his back.
Dwight approached his struggling son, his face an impassive mask. "You need to decide where your loyalty truly lies, Samuel."
Sam stilled, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with hatred.
"I want you to take the throne," Dwight continued, his voice laced with menace. "But if you refuse to fall in line, I will not hesitate to kill her. And if I have to, I will kill the child as well."
Sam's breath hitched, his body going rigid. He felt a wave of nausea, a sickening fear that threatened to overwhelm him. His father wasn't just saying words; he meant it.
Dwight motioned for Quinn as Mercedes continued to struggle. "Quinn will be a wonderful mother, I am sure."
Quinn stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "I will love your child, Sam," she said, her eyes pleading. "I will be a good mother. A good Queen."
Sam glared at her, his voice raw with fury. "Over my dead body, will I ever agree to this?"
Dwight shrugged, unconcerned. "Fine. If you want to die for them, you will." He gestured towards Puck and Brody. "Get him on a plane first thing in the morning. We'll see how much fight he has left after a little time away."
Puck grinned, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
Sam's world crumbled around him. He was helpless, trapped, unable to protect the woman he loved and the child she carried. As Mercedes' screams faded down the hallway, a cold resolve settled over him.
He would get her back. No matter the cost.
Sam was a caged animal pacing the confines of his gilded prison. The plush carpet beneath his feet and the opulent furnishings surrounding him mocked the despair clawing at his soul. His fists throbbed, raw from where they'd pounded against the unyielding oak door. Still, the guards outside remained impassive, their silence a testament to Dwight's ironclad control.
He had tried everything—pleading, raging, bargaining—all met with the same cold indifference. Dwight had him trapped, isolated, and cut off from the woman he loved and the child they had created together. The thought of Mercedes alone and vulnerable, at the mercy of his father's cruelty, sent a wave of icy terror through him.
A sharp knock startled him, and he whirled around, his heart pounding. He expected a guard, another reminder of his imprisonment, but Quinn stood in the doorway when the door creaked open.
His jaw clenched at the sight of her stirring a mix of resentment and despair. "I don't want to see you," he growled, his voice raw with suppressed fury.
Quinn ignored his hostility, stepping into the room with her usual composure. "Sam," she began, her voice soft but firm, "I would make a great Queen. You know that."
He scoffed, the sound hollow in the suffocating silence. "Maybe. But I don't love you, Quinn. I love Mercedes."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, a fleeting shadow of vulnerability quickly masked by her practiced indifference. "I know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But Love doesn't matter here, does it? Not when your father is willing to destroy everything to get what he wants."
Sam's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "What do you want, Quinn?"
She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ornate carpet beneath her feet. "I heard your father talking with Brody and Puck," she said, her voice barely audible. "He's giving Mercedes to him. And... and your father made it very clear that the baby... can't make it."
"What?" Sam's heart sank.
"I really tried to work with him and get him to change his mind. But…your father is relentless. He wants them both dead."
The words struck him like a physical blow. The air thickened, pressing down on him, stealing his breath. "What did you just say?" he rasped, his voice hoarse with disbelief.
"You heard me," Quinn repeated, her voice gaining strength. "Mercedes is in danger. The baby is in danger. And if you don't do something, you will lose them both."
A primal rage surged through him, a dark tide threatening to drown him. He lunged towards Quinn, his hands reaching for her throat, but she held up a hand, stopping him.
"I can help you," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. "I can get her out. I can make sure she disappears where your father will never find her."
Hope flickered in his chest, a fragile ember in the overwhelming darkness. "How?"
"Roz came to Stevie," Quinn explained, her eyes filled with a strange intensity. "She's willing to protect Mercedes and your child. She saw something in Mercedes, something worth fighting for."
"Roz?" Sam echoed, confusion battling with hope. "But why?"
"It doesn't matter why," Quinn insisted. "What matters is that she can help. She already has Jane and their friends ready. Mercedes won't be alone. She'll be safe."
Suspicion narrowed his eyes. "And what do you want in return?"
Quinn met his gaze, her expression unwavering. "Your word. You honor our engagement. You return to the throne, and we get engaged."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "You want to trap me in this farce? You want me to pretend to love you while Mercedes and my child disappear?"
"It's the only way," Quinn said, her voice thick with a desperation that mirrored his own. "Your father won't stop. He'll hunt her to the ends of the earth if he thinks you still care. But if you give in and play his game, he'll believe you've moved on."
Sam's mind reeled, the images of Mercedes and their unborn child flashing before his eyes. The thought of never seeing them again, of never holding them, of never knowing the joy of watching their child grow, was a torment unlike any he'd ever imagined. But Quinn was right. This was the only way.
A surge of defiance rose within him, a spark of rebellion against the cruel hand fate had dealt him. "You do realize that once I become King," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "I am finding her."
Quinn nodded a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "I know. And I'll help you."
Sam frowned, suspicion narrowing his gaze. "Why?"
Quinn hesitated, her usual composure faltering for a moment. "Look, there's something you should know about me, Sam," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I haven't been interested in anything but the Crown... because I don't want my family to learn the truth about me."
"The truth?" Sam echoed, confusion clouding his features.
Quinn took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the floor. "The truth that... I'm more into Mercedes than I would be you."
Sam stared at her, his mind struggling to process her words. Then, realization dawned, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh... OH!"
Quinn nodded, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "Yeah. So, I understand. But being engaged to you... it would open doors. It would give me the power to change the laws in my province, to maybe... allow me the freedom to love who I want." She met his gaze, her eyes pleading. "If we do this when you take Mercedes as your Queen... I want to be her advisor."
Sam's heart ached for her, for the hidden desires she'd kept locked away for so long. He understood the yearning for freedom, the longing to love without fear.
"And you know this could be years?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Quinn nodded resolutely. "We're on the same page, Sam. I can do this. Can you?"
He closed his eyes, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. The thought of sacrificing his happiness and pretending to love Quinn while his heart belonged to another was a bitter pill to swallow. But the alternative – losing Mercedes and their child forever – was unthinkable.
"Fine," he choked out, the word heavy with resignation. "I'll return to the throne. I'll get engaged. But Mercedes and the baby leave untouched."
A flicker of triumph crossed Quinn's face, quickly replaced by a mask of composure. "Then we have a deal."
Sam turned towards the desk, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen. Scribbling a message, his hand trembling with emotion, he added his royal crest necklace, a tangible symbol of his Love and his promise. He sealed the envelope and handed it to Quinn.
"Give her this," he instructed, his voice hoarse. "And tell her..." He paused, struggling to find the words to express the depth of his Love, despair, and hope. "Tell her I'll find her. I'll always find her."
Quinn nodded, her eyes softening slightly. "I will."
He gripped her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin. "The only way this happens is if she responds to what I wrote," he said, his voice low and threatening. "I know her, Quinn. I know her writing. If I don't get that back, I won't believe you held up your end of this."
Quinn met his gaze, her expression resolute. "You'll get your response."
He released her, his body heavy with despair. As Quinn left the room, Sam was left alone with the crushing weight of his sacrifice. He had chosen duty over Love, his kingdom over his heart. But a spark of hope remained even in the depths of his despair. He would find Mercedes. He would become King and claim his rightful place beside her, their child in his arms.
This wasn't the end. It was just the beginning of their fight.
Mercedes paced the plush confines of her room, the elegance of her surroundings a cruel mockery of the turmoil within her. Each step echoed in the suffocating silence, amplifying the anxiety gnawing at her soul. She longed to scream, to shatter the fragile illusion of calm, but a steely resolve held her back. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
The abrupt opening of the door startled her, and she whirled around, her body coiled tight, ready to fight. But it wasn't a guard, not the enemy she expected. Quinn stood in the doorway, her face an impassive mask, her presence an unwelcome intrusion. Behind her, Roz Washington exuded a quiet strength, a beacon of hope in the oppressive darkness.
"What is this?" Mercedes demanded, her voice sharp with suspicion.
Quinn held up an envelope, its creamy surface stark against her pale skin. "A letter from Sam. And a way out."
Mercedes' breath hitched, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. But it was quickly extinguished by a wave of defiance. "I'm not leaving without him," she declared, her voice unwavering.
Quinn sighed, a hint of weariness in her eyes. "Mercedes—"
"No," Mercedes interrupted, her voice rising with panic. "I don't care what's in that letter. I am not leaving Sam."
Quinn didn't argue. She simply held out the envelope, her silence a tacit acknowledgment of Mercedes' resolve.
Mercedes snatched the envelope with trembling hands, tearing it open with a desperate urgency. A delicate necklace slipped into her palm, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of her skin. It was a simple piece, a small crest embedded in the pendant, yet it held a weight far exceeding its size. This wasn't just any necklace. This was Sam's.
Tears welled in her eyes as she unfolded the letter, his familiar handwriting a lifeline in the overwhelming despair.
My Love,
I don't have enough words to express how sorry I am, how much I need you, how much I want you, and how much I love you.
This is killing me. Especially knowing that you are carrying my child. Make no mistake about it. I want this child, and I want you. I love you so much. Letting you go is the hardest thing I've ever done, but you have to trust me. You need to go with Roz. I swear to you, you won't be alone. Roz is a lot of things, but she will keep you safe until I find you. For now, I have to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And then when I become King, I will find you. Though Quinn is helping, I still don't trust her, so when you're alone with Roz, have her reach out to me. And please never forget that I will come for you and our child. The necklace—I want you to keep it. My mother gave it to me when I was eight years old, and I always swore I'd pass it on to my child. But for now, I want you to have it. I need you to have it. Keep it close to your heart, as I keep you in mine.
Please, Mercedes.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
Sam.
The words blurred through her tears, each one a searing brand on her soul. She clutched the letter to her chest, the paper crumpling beneath her desperate grip. His Love, pain, and unwavering determination resonated through every line, fueling her resolve. She wouldn't let him down. She wouldn't let Dwight win.
Quinn's voice broke through the haze of her emotions. "Sam wants a letter back, I promised I would get it."
Mercedes drew a shaky breath, the task feeling monumental in the face of her overwhelming grief. How could she possibly find the words to express the turmoil within her? The Love, the fear, the agonizing knowledge that she had to leave him behind?
But she had to try. For Sam. For their child.
With trembling fingers, she picked up a pen and began to write, pouring her heart onto the page.
Sam, I love you. I don't blame you for any of this. I know if I stay, then I and our child are at risk. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that you want this child. Because I do, too. Please find us; you better find us because I will never forgive you if you don't. I believe in you. I do. But I am scared. I don't know what's waiting for me outside these walls, but I know that nothing will ever feel like home unless you are there.
Don't let your father win.
Find us.
Find me.
Find your child.
I love you always.
Mercedes.
Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the ink, blurring the words into an abstract expression of her anguish. She didn't bother to wipe them away. The raw emotion, the unfiltered truth, was all she had to offer.
She thrust the letter into Quinn's hands, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Make sure he gets this."
Quinn nodded a flicker of understanding in her eyes. For a fleeting moment, Mercedes saw a glimpse of the woman beneath the icy facade, a woman capable of empathy and perhaps even regret. But the moment passed, and Quinn turned and left, the letter a silent promise in her grasp.
Roz stepped forward, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm. "I have a plan to get you out of here," she said, her voice steady and reassuring. "But you have to trust me."
Mercedes took a deep breath, her hand instinctively going to her stomach, a protective gesture for the life growing within her. This wasn't just about her anymore. It was about their future, their family.
She met Roz's gaze, her eyes filled with determination. "I trust you," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her soul.
And with that, a spark of hope ignited in the darkness, a defiant flame against the encroaching shadows. They would fight. They would survive. And they would find their way back to each other.