The Unwritten Fate of Joshua & Abigail

(Samuel's POV)

As we stepped down the courthouse stairs, Henry shoved his hands into his pockets, watching me with an amused expression.

"You already faked your death," he said, his tone laced with curiosity. "So why the divorce now?"

I smirked, my boots clicking against the pavement as we walked toward Marco's SUV. The cold air of Eastern Europe bit at my skin, but the fire inside me burned hotter than ever.

Without looking at Henry, I answered smoothly,

"Because the original Samuel Gebb deserves true freedom."

Henry raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for me to continue.

I stopped near the SUV, turning to face him, my smirk growing wider.

"Think about it. I already faked my death, right? But that only freed me physically. As long as those papers were still unsigned, as long as Bitch Bardot still had her name tied to me in any way, the ghost of the past still lingered."

I exhaled slowly, feeling lighter than ever.

"So I did the one thing the original Samuel never got to do. I gave him the one thing he was denied in the original story—freedom. True freedom. Not just from Abigail Bardot's grasp, but from the memory of her."

Henry studied me for a moment before letting out a chuckle.

"Damn," he muttered, shaking his head. "That's actually kind of poetic."

I grinned, leaning against the car.

"It's the best thing I can give him. A clean slate. No more mental chains, no more past burdens. He's free—and so am I."

Marco, who had been listening silently, let out a low whistle as he leaned against the car.

"Cold, ruthless, and smart as hell," he said, smirking. "You, Samuel Gebb, are something else."

I shrugged.

"I don't play games, Marco. I end them."

Henry chuckled, opening the SUV door.

"Well then, now that the past is buried, let's go hunt our future."

I nodded, climbing into the car.

Abigail Bardot? She was history.

Now, the only thing that mattered was power, survival, and the road ahead.

And this time, I was in control.

As the SUV cruised through the darkened streets, the air inside was silent except for the soft hum of the engine. Marco was focused on the road, leaving Henry and me to talk privately in the backseat.

Henry leaned slightly closer, keeping his voice low so Marco wouldn't hear.

"By the way," he started, his tone laced with curiosity. "That Golden Boy of Bardot—Joshua. You said he was after Abigail's wealth, right?"

I nodded, resting my elbow on the door.

"Yeah. A pretty boy actor who got close to her at the right time. Right when she was lonely, right when she needed someone to stroke her ego."

Henry smirked slightly but kept his voice quiet.

"Then what do you think will happen now? Since you're practically dead?"

I exhaled, rubbing my temple.

"Honestly? I don't know," I admitted. "And to make it worse, I keep forgetting the original plot."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "For real?"

I nodded, clicking my tongue in frustration.

"It's weird, right? I should remember everything, but… maybe it's because I wrote it how I wanted. I didn't read it like a normal novel—I was the one crafting the story, so now… things feel hazy."

Henry hummed, thinking.

"So, you're not even sure if Joshua truly loved her, or if he was just after her money?"

I chuckled, shaking my head.

"Nope. And that's the funny part. Even I don't know how this story ends."

Henry leaned back, arms crossed, a grin forming on his lips.

"Then that just means we're writing the ending ourselves now."

I grinned back.

"Damn right."

We both went silent for a moment, letting the reality settle in. I had changed the story so much that even I didn't know how things would play out.

Joshua, Bardot, Katerina—they were all loose ends. Their fate wasn't written anymore.

Which meant… I could rewrite it however I wanted.

And that?

That made things a whole lot more fun.

The SUV moved smoothly through the dimly lit streets, Marco still focused on the road ahead, unaware of the quiet conversation between Henry and me in the backseat.

I sighed, leaning my head against the cool glass window, my thoughts drifting toward the people I had already saved.

"Before we head to the New World, I just wanted to make sure that the people precious to him were safe," I muttered.

Henry glanced at me. "Him?"

I smirked slightly. "The original Samuel."

Henry nodded slowly, listening as I continued.

"His sister Kayla, her friend Luna, and his best friend George—they were his real family, the only people who ever cared for him before Bardot destroyed his life."

Henry tilted his head, watching me carefully. "So you saved them?"

I exhaled, a small satisfaction settling in my chest.

"Yeah. I got them out before Bardot could use them against me. I gave them new identities—they're far away from Imperial City now. New lives, no past to haunt them."

Henry let out a low whistle. "That's actually impressive. How'd you pull that off?"

I chuckled. "Because of Volkov."

Henry's eyes narrowed slightly. "That Russian bastard? You really trust him?"

I nodded. "More than I trust anyone else in Imperial City. Volkov's network is airtight—once he erases someone's existence, they're gone for good. No one—not even Bardot with all her wealth—can find them now."

Henry leaned back, tapping his fingers against his knee. "So, you're telling me… before you even came for revenge, before you faked your death, before you finalized the divorce—you were already planning this?"

I smirked.

"Of course. Because I knew that Bitch Bardot would never stop trying to ruin Samuel's life. And the first thing she would do? Go after those closest to him."

Henry let out a low chuckle. "You really outplayed her."

I exhaled, a dark grin forming on my lips.

"I did more than outplay her." I paused, glancing out the window. "I erased her power over me."

For the first time, I wasn't chained to the past.

The original Samuel had been broken, but I was not him.

And because of that, the people he cared for would finally have a chance at happiness.

Now, with that burden lifted, I could move forward.

Toward Black Hollow Dungeon. Toward the New World. Toward a destiny greater than anything this world had ever seen.