Mercedes wiped down the counter absently, lost in thought as the weight of the past few days hung heavily over her. The door to the bar chimed, signaling the arrival of a well-dressed man who looked completely out of place in the casual atmosphere. He stepped up to the bar with an envelope in hand, his expression serious.
"Ms. Mercedes Jones and Ms. Jane Hayward?" he asked, his voice steady.
Mercedes glanced up, meeting his gaze, then nodded toward Jane. Both women received the envelope, and the man offered it to Mercedes.
"Your attendance is requested tonight at the US Embassy," he said, his tone formal.
Mercedes raised an eyebrow and opened the envelope, pulling out the letter inside. She read it silently, the weight of the invitation hitting her with each word.
To Ms. Mercedes Jones and Ms. Jane Hayward,
Your attendance at the US Embassy is requested tonight. Formal attire will be provided for you and your guests. Please allow our car to take you to your room, and then at 8 pm Sharp, you will be escorted to the Embassy.
King Dwight Samuel Evans.
Mercedes stared at the letter for a beat before looking over at Jane, who was now eyeing her expectantly.
"Sam's been texting me," Mercedes said quietly, her voice tinged with frustration. "But... I can't keep doing this. I don't know what he wants from me anymore. And if I go…"
Jane tilted her head, noticing the conflicted look in Mercedes's eyes. "I get it," she said, her voice soft. "But maybe this is something we should just... do. This invitation, whatever it is, could be an opportunity. It could be worth seeing through."
Santana, who had been sitting a few stools down, quickly stood up. "Absolutely. You're going, no question. It's a formal event. It will be a spectacle, and you need to show up."
Sebastian, who had been listening, nodded eagerly. "It's an opportunity, Mercedes. And you know it."
Mercedes gave a half-sigh, half-laugh, clearly torn but deciding there was no real reason not to go. "Fine," she said, looking at Jane for confirmation. "We'll go. But Santana and Sebastian will be with us," she added, voice firm.
The man stood there with quiet patience and gave a slight nod. "Of course. I'll inform them accordingly. You will need to prepare quickly. I have the car waiting for you. And there is this." He handed Mercedes a key card. "In your room, you will find clothing choices and shoes for the event, as well as someone to assist with your hair."
"No one but Santana touches my hair, so they won't be needed." Mercedes said as she accepted the card, giving a nod in return. "Alright. Let them know about Santana and Sebastian," she said, her tone no-nonsense.
The man turned to leave, his footsteps echoing as he exited the bar, leaving the women to absorb what had just happened.
Santana shot Mercedes a wide grin. "I mean, we're going. Are you ready to blow their minds, or what?"
Mercedes couldn't help but smile a little. "Yeah, we're going. Let's do this."
The suite was breathtaking. Mercedes stepped in first, the plush carpet soft beneath her heels as her eyes roamed over the room. The walls were creamy ivory, accented with gold trim, and the high ceiling was adorned with a delicate crystal chandelier. To her left, an oversized arrangement of fresh flowers stood on a polished marble table—roses, lilies, and peonies in shades of pink, white, and red, their fragrance subtly perfuming the air. A note sat propped against the vase, written in an elegant script:
For Ms. Jones, Ms. Hayward, and company, enjoy your evening.
"Wow," Jane breathed, stepping in behind her. "This is… insane."
Mercedes nodded, still taking it all in. At the room's far end, floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the glittering cityscape below. A luxurious sitting area with velvet chairs and a glass coffee table invited them to relax, but the real centerpiece was the king-sized bed draped in pristine white linens. At its foot were four silk-lined boxes, their lids slightly ajar to reveal glimpses of sparkling fabric inside.
"Wait," Mercedes said, narrowing her eyes. "Four boxes?"
Jane's gaze darted to the extras. "You think those are for—?"
"Us," Santana cut in as she sauntered into the room with Sebastian in tow, both looking unreasonably smug. "What, you thought we were just going to send you off to the lion's den alone? Please."
Sebastian chuckled, already moving toward the bed. "And don't act surprised. We're your backup, your cheer squad, and your bodyguards—all rolled into one fabulous package."
Santana popped the lid off one of the extra boxes and pulled out a sleek black gown with a thigh-high slit and a plunging neckline. She held it up against herself, whistling. "They got my size perfect. Not even one stitch off. Whoever is running this game, I've got to give them credit for their precision."
Sebastian reached for the last box, lifting out a sharply tailored midnight blue tuxedo. "And mine, too," he said, shrugging off his jacket. "It's almost creepy how well they know us."
Mercedes smirked, crossing her arms. "I'll give you creepy. How do you even know these are yours?"
"Instinct," Santana said with a wink. "Or, you know, the perfectly engraved nameplates on the lids."
She tilted the box to show Santana Lopez embossed on the inside edge. "These people have style."
Mercedes rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a laugh as she turned her attention back to her own box. Inside was a deep emerald green gown, the fabric shimmering softly under the light. She held it up, letting it cascade to its full length—a bold yet elegant design with a plunging neckline and intricate beadwork along the bodice.
Jane was already pulling out her dress—a radiant gold creation that seemed to glow with every shift of the fabric. "This is like… red carpet-level stuff."
Santana tossed her dress over her shoulder and reached for a bottle of champagne on the sideboard. "We deserve this level. And tonight, we're going to show them exactly what happens when they underestimate people like us."
Mercedes laid her dress carefully across the bed, running her fingers over the beadwork. "This still feels surreal."
"It's real, babe," Santana said, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to her. "Now, sit down and let me make you fabulous."
Sebastian handed Jane a glass, raising his own. "To shutting them all up in style."
"To that," Jane said with a grin, clinking her glass against his.
Over the next hour, the suite buzzed with activity. Santana worked her magic, curling and pinning Mercedes' hair into a sleek updo, while Sebastian adjusted the hem of Jane's dress for the perfect fit.
After they were finished, the women flipped through the shoe options that had been delivered—everything from classic stilettos to bold designer heels.
By the time everyone was dressed, the transformation was complete. Mercedes stood in front of the mirror, her emerald green gown hugging her curves perfectly, and gold jewelry added just the right amount of sparkle.
Jane's golden dress shimmered like molten metal, and her loose waves and soft makeup gave her a radiant glow. In her daring black gown, Santana looked like she owned the world, and Sebastian's tuxedo fit him so well it could have been sewn onto his body.
Sebastian adjusted his cufflinks, glancing at his reflection. "We look like a goddamn Vogue spread."
Santana smirked, slipping on her heels. "Damn right, we do."
A knock at the door interrupted their moment. Mercedes walked over and opened it, revealing a hotel attendant dressed in a sharp black suit. He held a silver tray with an envelope on top.
"Your limousine is waiting, ma'am," he said politely, bowing slightly.
Mercedes glanced down at the envelope, her fingers lingering before she picked it up and opened it. Inside was a formal invitation printed on heavy cardstock, confirming their attendance at the embassy dinner.
"Guess it's time," she murmured, turning back to the group.
The attendant handed her a key card next. "This grants access to the Embassy's private entrance, ma'am. There will be staff waiting to assist you upon arrival."
Mercedes nodded, tucking the card into her clutch. "Thank you."
"Enjoy your evening," the attendant said, bowing again before retreating.
Jane smoothed her dress nervously. "This is really happening."
Santana slung her clutch over her shoulder, grinning. "Damn right, it is. And we're not just showing up. We're taking over."
Sebastian opened the door and gestured gallantly. "Shall we?"
Mercedes took a deep breath, holding her head high as she walked towards the elevator.
The Embassy's conference hall was a study in opulence, with its high vaulted ceilings, gleaming chandeliers, and walls adorned with tapestries that depicted Cordovan history.
Sam, Stevie, Blaine, and Finn stood near the bar, the epitome of Cordovan nobility and elegance. Each of them had dressed meticulously for the occasion, their attire reflecting their respective roles and origins.
Sam wore a navy blue tuxedo with intricate yellow embroidery along the lapels, symbolizing the Evans family colors. The family crest—a golden eagle clutching a shield—was prominently displayed as a pin on his left breast pocket.
The tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders and confident bearing, though his expression was anything but relaxed as he stared at his phone.
Beside him, Stevie mirrored the family pride in a slightly lighter shade of blue, his suit complemented by a yellow pocket square. His tie bore a subtle embroidered pattern of the crest, a nod to their heritage. Though he shared Sam's striking features, his youth was evident in the slightly nervous way he adjusted his cufflinks.
Finn, ever the reliable guard and friend, opted for a classic black tuxedo. His outfit was understated yet impeccable, the only Cordovan touch being a small lapel pin featuring the royal eagle crest. Standing tall and stoic, he radiated a quiet strength, though he couldn't help the occasional glance toward Sam, silently gauging his mood.
Ever the diplomat, Blaine was dressed in a striking cobalt-blue tuxedo that subtly matched the Cordovan colors. His ensemble was completed with a crisp white pocket square and a tie embroidered with the Evans family crest in silver thread, a detail that added an understated elegance. Though his posture was calm and collected, the intensity in his eyes hinted at the weight of the negotiations they were about to face.
As the men stood there, their polished appearances exuded power and poise, but the tension between them was palpable. Sam stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. Frustration was evident in the set of his jaw, his shoulders tense, and his focus glued to his phone. The drink in his hand sat untouched on the polished counter.
"No response yet?" Stevie asked, glancing at Sam's screen. His voice carried a mix of concern and frustration.
Sam shook his head, his jaw tightening. "No. Nothing. I've sent messages, called, and even emailed. She's completely shut me out."
Stevie frowned, his own thoughts drifting to Jane. He hadn't been able to reach her either, but seeing the tension in his brother, he kept that to himself.
Finn, standing nearby, took a long sip of his drink and clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Look, man, I get it. But right now, you need to focus. This meeting isn't just important—it's critical. The Westons and Washingtons are here to decide if they're going to side with us. You can't let personal stuff mess with your head."
Sam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his blond hair. "I know. Doesn't make it any easier."
Blaine leaned against the bar, his sharp suit fitting him like a second skin. "Finn's right. We'll deal with Mercedes and Jane after this. For now, keep it together, Sam. The kingdom needs you to be on point tonight."
Sam gave a reluctant nod, pocketing his phone. "Fine. Let's just get through this."
The moment was interrupted by the sound of deliberate footsteps approaching. Puck sauntered over, a smirk on his face and a drink in hand. He was dressed impeccably, but the glint in his eyes and his swagger made it clear he wasn't here to play nice.
"Well, look who's brooding in the corner," Puck drawled, his tone dripping with mockery.
Sam's eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice low and hard. "You're the reason we're even in this mess."
Puck raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Me? Oh, come on, Your Majesty," he said, emphasizing the title with a mocking bow. "I wasn't the one who got all starry-eyed and whipped over some commoner."
"Watch it," Stevie growled, stepping closer to his brother.
Puck's smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Relax, kid. I'm just stating the obvious. You two are supposed to be leaders—future kings. And here you are, letting a couple of women turn your whole world upside down."
Sam took a step forward, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "This isn't about being whipped, Puck. It's about respect. Something you wouldn't understand."
"Oh, I understand plenty," Puck shot back, his tone sharper now. "I understand that while you're busy chasing after someone who doesn't belong in this world, the kingdom is slipping through your fingers. I'm here because Dwight—sorry, His Majesty the King—still needs someone who isn't blinded by love."
"You're delusional," Sam snapped.
Finn intervened, stepping between them. "Enough," he said firmly. "This isn't the time or the place for this crap. We've got a job to do tonight, and it doesn't involve you two throwing punches."
Puck took a long sip of his drink, his smirk returning. "Fine. I'll play nice. For now. But don't say I didn't warn you when this whole thing blows up in your face."
Sam glared at him but said nothing, his fists still clenched. Stevie placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent reminder to stay calm.
"Come on," Blaine said, his voice quiet but steady. "Let's focus. The meeting's about to start."
Sam took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "Right. Let's go."
Puck lingered at the bar as they moved toward the conference area, his smirk fading into a calculating expression. For now, he'd let things play out. But he had his own plans and wasn't about to let Sam and Stevie derail them.
The buzz of conversation in the conference hall slowed as the grand double doors opened. Heads turned instinctively, and the room's air shifted as if everyone could sense the arrival of something—or someone—unexpected.
Sam, Stevie, Blaine, and Finn stood near the entrance to the conference area, their attention immediately drawn to the door. Sam had been half-listening to Finn's attempt at lightening the mood when his words died in his throat.
There, framed by the ornate doors, stood Mercedes, Jane, Santana, and Sebastian, their presence commanding the space like a perfectly choreographed entrance.
Mercedes led the group, her chin held high and her steps confident, though her amber eyes darted briefly across the room. She wore a gown that hugged her curves in all the right places, the rich emerald fabric shimmering under the chandelier light. Her hair was styled in soft waves that framed her face, and a matching pair of earrings dangled delicately.
Beside her, Jane looked radiant in a flowing gold dress that caught the light with every step. The shimmering fabric made her look ethereal, her usually soft demeanor sharpened with purpose.
Santana followed behind, her black gown dramatic and sleek, exuding an effortless boldness. She smirked as her sharp eyes scanned the room, clearly enjoying the stunned reactions of the guests.
Sebastian, ever the charmer, was at ease in a perfectly tailored cobalt-blue tuxedo, his hair slicked back. His casual confidence and sharp smirk made it clear he was fully aware of how striking their group looked.
They approached the entrance, and Mercedes handed an envelope to the guard with a calm but firm expression. "Ms. Mercedes Jones and Ms. Jane Hayward," she said, her voice smooth and steady. "We were invited."
The guard opened the envelope, scanning the elegant invitation inside before nodding. "Of course, ladies. Right this way."
As the group stepped into the room, the energy shifted further. Conversations faltered, gazes lingered, and whispers rippled through the crowd.
Sam's breath hitched the moment he saw Mercedes. She was radiant, more beautiful than he'd ever seen, and it felt like the room dimmed around her. He couldn't take his eyes off her, his phone forgotten in his hand.
"Holy…" Stevie whispered beside him, his own gaze locked on Jane. She looked like a vision in gold, her dress flowing like liquid sunlight. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, guilt and admiration warring within him.
Blaine, who had been nursing a quiet drink, raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Well, that's one way to make an entrance," he muttered under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he eyed Sebastian.
Finn let out a low whistle, leaning slightly toward Sam. "They're here, man. And they're not playing around."
Puck, standing a few feet away, stiffened. His smirk faded as his eyes landed on Mercedes. There was no denying how captivating she looked; a flash of something darker—envy, desire—crossed his face. He quickly masked it, his smirk returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Sam's grip tightened on his glass, his knuckles white. His heart ached, knowing she hadn't responded to his messages, yet here she was—right in front of him. And yet, he couldn't shake the sense that she was deliberately keeping her distance.
The group moved further into the room, and Santana's smirk deepened as she caught the men staring. "Close your mouths, boys. You're not the only ones with a sense of occasion."
Mercedes's gaze briefly flicked to Sam, their eyes meeting for a fleeting moment. But then she turned away, walking deeper into the hall, towards his father, her expression unreadable.
Sam felt a pang of frustration and longing, his body instinctively leaning forward as if to follow her. Stevie grabbed his arm, shaking his head. "Not now," he said quietly.
Sebastian threw a wink at the group as they walked past, his smirk as sharp as a blade. "Don't just stand there gawking," he teased. "It's not every day you get to see what you missed out on."
Blaine chuckled despite himself while Sam and Stevie glared at him.
The group disappeared into the crowd, leaving a trail of stunned silence and curiosity in their wake.
Sam exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he tried to pull himself together. "This just got a lot more complicated," he muttered.
"Welcome to the game," Blaine said dryly, gesturing toward the bar. "You're gonna need another drink."
Oh, did you think this double update was a surprise? Nope, that's not a surprise. That is just me being me! Nope, the surprise is what I am uploading next! I hope you enjoy it. I know I did.