Hey guys so I have a surprise for you! What you might ask? Just wait. Until then, enjoy!

The room was cloaked in darkness, the faint glow of Sam's phone screen illuminating his face as he stared at it, willing it to buzz with a response. He had already called twice and sent a text, but there was still no reply. With a frustrated sigh, he tossed the phone onto the bed and sank back against the headboard.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Before he could respond, Stevie pushed the door open, stepping into the dim room. Sam could see the tension etched into his younger brother's face, even in the low light.

"Can't sleep?" Sam asked, though he already knew the answer.

Stevie shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. "Can't reach Jane," he admitted. "Tried calling her a couple of times, but… nothing." He glanced at Sam's phone on the bed. "You too?"

Sam nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Mercedes isn't answering either. I know I hurt her, but…I am so stupid."

"Think I take the cake on the stupid brother here," Stevie said as he walked in further and sank onto the edge of Sam's bed. He was quiet, then asked, "Do you think they hate us?"

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "No. But I wouldn't blame them if they did. I mean, look at us. We've got a father who came in here telling these women they aren't good enough, and he also thinks he can buy everyone off, a friend who can't keep his mouth shut, and a kingdom that's a mess. Not exactly a recipe for a great love story."

Stevie chuckled bitterly. "You think Jane and Mercedes care about any of that? They didn't fall for princes or kingdoms, Sam. They fell for us. And we blew it."

Sam sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's not just that. It's what Dad said. He thinks they're not good enough for us. That they don't belong in our world, but he's wrong. They're everything we need, and we're the ones who don't deserve them. I thought I had to give up my Kingdom to be with her, but it was never a choice…I screwed it all up."

Stevie nodded slowly. "I came clean to Jane. Told her everything. And instead of fighting for her, I let her go. I said it was for her sake, but... maybe I was just scared. Scared of what Dad would say, scared of what this life would do to her. We know how outsiders are treated."

"Same," Sam admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I told Mercedes the truth, and then I let her walk away. I tried to convince myself it was the right thing and better for her. But it wasn't better. Not for her and definitely not for me."

Stevie looked at his brother, his expression mirroring the turmoil in Sam's heart. "So, what do we do? How do we fix this? How do we get them back?"

Sam opened his mouth but paused, letting out a defeated sigh as he shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've never been in love before, Stevie. I always did what was expected of me, and…well, I don't have the answers. All I know is that I can't just let her go. I can't let Dad be right."

Before Stevie could respond, there was a knock at the door. It opened slightly, and Blaine poked his head in. A somber expression replaced his usual cheery demeanor as he stepped inside.

"Hey," Blaine said quietly, looking at both brothers. "I, uh... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For all of this."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Blaine sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This whole mess. With your dad, with Puck, with everything. I know I didn't cause it, but I still feel like I let you both down. You're my best friend, and I should've been there for you more. I should've had your backs better."

Stevie offered a faint smile. "It's not your fault, Blaine. You're not the one who told Dad about Jane or Mercedes. No, that bastard Puck did it all on his own. And you're not the one who dragged them into this."

"Yeah," Sam added. "But if you're here to help us figure out how to fix it, then we're all ears."

Blaine nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. "We'll figure it out," he said firmly. "We have to."

The room was quiet for a moment as Sam and Stevie sat in deep thought, each lost in their own concerns about the women they loved. Blaine, who had been pacing back and forth with his hands in his pockets, finally stopped and turned to face them.

"As much as I'm happy you guys are determined to make things work with Mercedes and Jane, there's something else we need to deal with."

Sam groaned and leaned back against the wall, rubbing his temples. "Great. What now?"

Blaine glanced between the two brothers, his tone serious. "The Westons and the Washingtons have requested a meeting at the Embassy. Tonight."

Stevie raised an eyebrow, confused. "Why would they want to meet with us? And why there?"

Blaine shrugged, his expression neutral. "They're important allies, and they've made it clear that they want to discuss future collaborations with Cordova. They've probably caught wind of the issues with St. James pulling out, and they want to see where we stand."

Sam folded his arms, clearly frustrated. "I don't want to deal with this right now. I've got enough on my plate trying to figure out how to fix things with Mercedes."

Blaine nodded sympathetically but didn't back down. "I get it, Sam. Trust me, I do. But you need to take care of your Kingdom. The family depends on this. The Westons and Washingtons are powerful players in the game, and right now, you need their support more than ever."

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But I still don't see why I should care about this tonight of all nights."

Blaine took a step forward, his voice calm but insistent. "Because it's not just about you, Sam. It's about the future of Cordova. And right now, you have to show them you're ready to lead, even when things are messy."

Sam and Stevie exchanged a glance, knowing Blaine was right.

Blaine continued. "Now, as for Mercedes and Jane, I think I have an idea. I can call Sebastian—he can talk to the girls and keep things calm while you handle the meeting. But you both have to go through with it. No backing out."

Stevie looked at Sam, who nodded in agreement. "Alright. We'll do the meeting. But after that, we focus on getting Mercedes and Jane back."

Blaine smiled. "That's the spirit. It's not going to be easy, but you've got this. Just take care of the Kingdom tonight, and we'll take care of the rest."

The office in Dwight's Penthouse suite felt colder as Puck stood across from Dwight, his posture tense and defensive. He had lost St. James' support—an embarrassment that weighed heavily on him, especially since the man's wife wasn't even worth all he lost.

The St. James situation had been his fault, and now, with the Westons and Washingtons on the line, his position was precarious. He didn't dare look Dwight directly in the eye, but his voice carried the edge of frustration.

"Your Majesty," Puck began, his tone respectful but urgent, "I know I messed up with St. James. His wife was hitting on me, and I fell for it. We're in a hell of a spot now with the Westons and Washingtons, and it's only going to get worse." He shifted, leaning slightly forward. "But there's a way to fix this. The first thing we need to do is handle Sam's... problem."

Dwight didn't look up from the papers in front of him, his fingers absently tapping the desk as he listened. "What exactly do you mean by 'problem,' Puck?"

Puck's jaw tightened. "Sam being with that woman, Mercedes. It's a distraction. Ever since he met her, he has been dropping the ball. If it weren't for Blaine or Finn, we'd be in even more hot water. She had been an issue from the moment Sam met her at that bar."

Dwight frowned. "A bar slut, my song got taken in by the lowest form of woman."

Puck nodded. "I agree, she's not the right kind of woman for him, for the Kingdom. He needs to get back on track with Lady Quinn. You know it, I know it. If you want him to focus on running Cordova, you need to make sure that woman is out of the picture to keep everything in line."

Dwight's expression remained neutral, but there was a sharpness in his voice when he spoke again. "I'm aware, Puck. But what makes you think this is a problem you need to solve? You've already cost us St. James' support. Now the Westons and Washingtons are wavering, and you suggest we deal with... her?"

Puck's hand clenched into a fist at his side, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. He needed to get Dwight to agree to let him get to Mercedes. "You need to understand, your Highness, this isn't just about Mercedes. It's about Sam. He's getting too attached to her. You saw him, how he raced after her, and how he spoke to you. And if he keeps this up, he might even be willing to quit the throne for her. You know he's not going to let anyone tell him what to do when it comes to that girl."

Dwight paused, his expression thoughtful as Puck's words hung in the air. It wasn't a new thought—Sam had always been loyal and steadfast, so he was, unfortunately, due to being rebellious, but the idea of him walking away from his birthright for a woman like Mercedes was a hard pill to swallow.

Puck pressed on, sensing Dwight's hesitation. "I could take care of it. Make sure she's never a problem again. No one would know. We can even keep it clean—nothing that'll risk our land's reputation. But Sam will be focused, and you won't have to worry about the Kingdom slipping through your fingers."

Dwight's gaze finally met Puck's, his eyes calculating. "You're suggesting we eliminate her from the equation. Just like that?"

Puck nodded, his voice lowering as he added, "She won't be missed, and she's not the kind of woman a King should be involved with. If you allow me to…keep her… I'll make sure no one hears from her again. Just like Sunshine. You won't have to worry about her getting in the way anymore."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he weighed the situation. "And what makes you think that's the right move? We can't afford more mistakes, Puckerman. What if she causes more trouble once she's gone? What if Sam finds out? She's a fighter she could get out?"

Puck's eyes narrowed, a glint of something darker behind his gaze. "Sam's already willing to walk away from everything for her. If you think he'll be grateful once he realizes she's not who you want him with, you're wrong. He is probably still trying to reach out to her. This isn't about doing what's best for Sam—it's about doing what's best for the Kingdom."

Dwight sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know, we've gotten rid of women before. Sunshine was literally stalking Stevie to the point she stood over his bed while he slept. But this feels... drastic. You're suggesting we take her out like she's a threat to the throne itself. Is it really that serious?"

Puck stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I'm telling you, King, it's that serious. Sam might not just walk away from the throne if you let this go on. He'll drag us all down with him. And do you really want to risk that just because of one woman?"

There was a long pause, the weight of the decision heavy in the room. Dwight stared at Puck, considering his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm but firm. "I'm not making a decision in haste. Sam's feelings for this woman complicate things, but this is not the way. I won't risk everything we've built because of one... relationship. He needs to understand that his responsibilities come first."

Puck stood there, his face unreadable. He knew Dwight was right in some ways, but a part of him didn't care. This was about more than just the Kingdom—it was about proving to Mercedes that she was not better than him. She was below him, and soon, she would be beneath him whenever he demanded it.

Dwight sat back; his mind was already working on a strategy. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepling together, calculating the best way to handle the situation.

"You're right, Puck," Dwight said, his voice steady, but his eyes cold with resolve. "This isn't just about Sam's infatuation with some woman. This is about what's best for the Kingdom. And sometimes... sacrifices need to be made."

Puck's eyes brightened slightly, sensing an opening. "Exactly, King. I can take care of the Mercedes problem for you. No one will even know she was a threat."

But Dwight held up a hand, his gaze fixed on a point beyond Puck. "I'm not going to have you take matters into your own hands just yet. I have a different plan in mind."

Puck frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Dwight's lips curled into a small, calculating smile. "We're going to make a point. And I'm going to do it in front of everyone."

He stood up, pacing around his desk. "We'll invite the women- Jane and Mercedes- to the meeting at the Embassy. Send them dresses and shoes, and make sure they arrive in style. Let them feel like they belong for one night."

Puck's expression shifted as he began to understand Dwight's idea. "You want them to come to the meeting... and then what? Show them up?"

Dwight's smile widened, the wheels of his plan turning smoothly. "Exactly. My sons will see them in those gowns, trying to fit into a world they don't belong in. When they see how out of place these women are, they'll realize it's time for a change. For their own futures—and the good of Cordova."

Puck's lips twisted with a mix of approval and uncertainty. He knew Dwight's methods all too well, but this one felt different—more public, more manipulative. "And you think that'll be enough to convince them?"

"I know it will," Dwight replied, his voice firm. "Sam and Stevie are caught up in something they don't fully understand. Their emotions and hormones blind them. We all like exotic flavors. But when they see their 'ladies' struggling to fit into a royal environment, they'll finally understand what's at stake. And they'll fall in line."

Puck nodded slowly, a dark glint in his eye. "And if they don't?"

Dwight's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then I'll let you do what you do best."

There was a silence between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Puck was still processing Dwight's words, his own motivations bubbling under the surface. This wasn't just about getting Mercedes out of the picture for Sam—this was about proving a point, taking control of the situation in a way that left no room for rebellion.

Finally, Puck spoke, his voice lower now, tinged with a hint of frustration. "What about me, King? What happens to me if this backfires?"

Dwight turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "If it backfires, Puckerman, you'll learn how to fix it. Just like you always do. You know how this works—no one is ever truly safe. We all play the game, and sometimes, the pieces have to be moved around."

Puck didn't respond, his fists clenching at his sides. The game was bigger than just Mercedes now. It was about positioning, winning, and proving who was in control.

Dwight tapped his fingers on the desk, signaling the end of the conversation. "Send in, Rodrick; I need to make this happen. The women will be at the Embassy by tonight. And we'll see if my sons have the courage to see the truth."