Promises Lost to Years

The name Samuel Wesley was known throughout Kingston City as the ironclad protector of Rebecca Summers, the treasured daughter of a distinguished general. He had nearly given his life for her once, taking bullets meant for her. Defying the vast divide in their social standings, Rebecca had insisted on spending her life with this man who valued her above his own survival. Samuel, in turn, had proven worthy of her choice, cherishing her with a devotion that ran deep in his bones and blood. After their marriage, the Summers family was suddenly struck by tragedy, plummeting Rebecca from her pedestal into the dust. Many in Kingston City, quick to turn their backs, seized the chance to kick her while she was down. It was Samuel who silenced them. He slammed his gun onto a table before the crowd and declared, his voice cutting through the noise, "As long as I, Samuel Wesley, draw breath, the Summers family stands. She will always be its heiress. Anyone who shows disrespect will have to get through me first." Yet now, this very man who had loved her so fiercely held a gun aimed directly at her head. "Call Nick. Tell him to release Mr. Barnes," Samuel said, his voice devoid of any warmth, edged with impatience. Nick Wayne was the final safeguard Rebecca's father had secured for her before his death—her ultimate ace in the hole, the one guarantee of a safe exit from any danger within their circles. Even during the family's downfall, her father had never called in that favor, preserving it solely for his daughter's protection. Now, Samuel was forcing her to surrender that last card. And for what? For a man like Leonard Barnes—a man whose wicked deeds made him deserving of death a hundred times over. All because Leonard was the father of Natalie Barnes, the girl Rebecca herself had brought back from the battlefield three years prior. A hot tear traced its way down Rebecca's cheek, her eyes growing teary. She stepped closer to Samuel, her hand rising to grip the barrel of the gun. "Samuel, do you even know what kind of man you're pointing this gun at me to save?" she said, her voice low but tightening. Her eye widening, her tone rose despite herself. "He's vile. A coward who only preys on the weak. His hands are stained with the blood of the innocent..." Samuel didn't pull the gun away. Instead, he pushed it forward slightly, his thumb settling on the trigger. "What kind of man Mr. Barnes is isn't for me to judge, Rebecca. In our line of work, everyone has blood on their hands. It's hardly unusual." His gaze was unyielding. "But I made a promise. I have to get Natalie's father out. I owe her my life." That same reason, again. Rebecca had heard it so many times over the years it had worn thin. Because Natalie saved his life. It was the reason Samuel would leave their bed in the deep of night, disentangling himself from her without a second thought, barely pausing to dress, whenever Natalie called. It was the reason he, who broke out in hives and struggled to breathe with a single sip of alcohol, would publicly drain glass after glass meant for Natalie whenever she claimed her period prevented her from drinking. Rebecca knew a man like Samuel could be trapped by a debt of gratitude forever. A bitter smile touched her lips as she tightened her grip on his hand around the gun. "And what if I refuse, Samuel?" she asked. With a despair so profound it hollowed her out, Rebecca guided his finger, joining him in pulling the trigger. Samuel jerked the barrel aside at the last possible instant. With a "BANG", the window beside them shattered into a thousand pieces. The people in the room froze, deathly silent. In a flash, Samuel was before her, his hands on her shoulders, his eyes frantically scanning her for any injury. "Rebecca, you know I would never hurt you. Why would you force my hand like that?" he asked, a storm of anger and fear in his voice. Once assured she was unharmed, the fear in his eyes hardened into something cold and tactical. He turned, pressing the gun's muzzle against the temple of one of Rebecca's longtime loyalists. The man stood paralyzed, not daring to move a muscle. "But I can't promise," Samuel said, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm, as he pushed the gun harder against the man's skin, "that I won't shoot them." Rebecca looked into Samuel's eyes—the same eyes that had once held nothing but love for her. That love was gone, completely erased. In its place was the calculating resolve of a mercenary commander issuing an ultimatum to an obstacle. The realization finally broke her. A desolate smile appeared on her lips. "Alright. I'll make the call," she said, her voice flat and empty. Rebecca dialed the number she knew by heart, pressing each key with a finality that echoed in the silent room. With that call, she personally surrendered her last remaining card. From this moment on, her fate was no longer in her hands. Samuel holstered his gun. The cold severity melted from his face, replaced by a gentle concern that felt like a mockery. He reached for her hand. His palm was warm, but it sent a chill straight to her core. "Rebecca, you have my word. I will keep you safe from now on. Even if it costs me my life, I won't let anything happen to you." She thought, 'Keep me safe with his life?' A bitter taste flooded her throat. Perhaps the Samuel of old would have died for her. But the man who had loved her more than life itself had died the moment Natalie entered their world. As if on cue, Samuel's phone rang. Natalie's voice, sweet and lilting, spilled from the speaker. "Samuel? Dad's safe! I made dinner for you to say thank you. Will you come?" Samuel held the phone, his eyes flickering towards Rebecca with a hint of discomfort. Rebecca smiled then, a perfect, practiced smile that reached her eyes yet touched nothing within her. "You should go. The food will get cold." He hesitated for only a couple of heartbeats. "I'll be back soon," he said, rising to his feet. Without a backward glance, he left in the same armored SUV that had once carved a path through enemies to rescue her. Rebecca watched the red taillights vanish into the darkness. When the night had swallowed the last trace of him, she took out her own phone and dialed a different number. "That offer you made. The one about keeping me safe for good. Does it still stand?" she said, her voice steady now, clear in the quiet room.