Chapter 672 The Last Chapter of Samuel and Taylor

The butler barred Zenobia at the gate, but she was past reasoning. 

She gunned the engine, the car lurching forward as if she might smash through the wrought-iron doors. 

In the end, the butler stepped aside, and the gates swung open.

Her fingers locked around the steering wheel, knuckles white. She looked like a cornered animal, desperate and wild. She had lost everything. She could not lose Thalassa too. With Thalassa, she could start again.

The car had barely stopped before she threw the door open and jumped out. She ran toward the house, calling out as she took the stairs two at a time. "Thalassa! I am taking you away! Pack your things, we are leaving!"

Silence answered her. Only her own voice echoed through the cavernous rooms.

"She must be asleep," Zenobia muttered, gripping the banister and starting up the stairs.

The butler intercepted her. "Ms. Zenobia, Mr. Collins sent Thalassa to her father. She is probably already on the ferry."

Zenobia froze, disbelief written across her face. "What?"

"It is true. Mr. Collins said giving her to her father was the right thing to do. He also said her father will not attend the trial in person. Everything will be handled by his lawyer. I am afraid you will not see her again."

The words hit her like a blow. Zenobia's legs gave way and she sank to the floor. "No... Samuel, you bastard... How could you do this to me? Without Thalassa, I have nothing."

She forced herself up and ran to the second floor, flinging open the door to the child's room. The bed was neatly made, the sheets tucked tight, the space stripped of every trace of the little girl.

Thalassa was gone.

At Evergreen City's largest ferry terminal, a black Range Rover idled in the parking lot. Samuel opened the rear door, lifting Thalassa into his arms with one hand and carrying her suitcase with the other. Inside were her clothes, her post-surgery medicine, and Taylor's contact information.

Leo stood a few steps away, rubbing his hands, his face taut with emotion.

Samuel walked over and placed both the child and the suitcase into Leo's arms. Leo held Thalassa close, his lips trembling. Only now did it feel real—his daughter was back. 

"Thank you, Mr. Collins."

Samuel's voice was even. "No need. She is your daughter."

He brushed a hand over Thalassa's cheek, his voice rough. "I have to go. Stay with your father now. Call me if you need anything. If you feel unwell, contact Taylor."

For all his composure, Samuel's throat tightened. 

Thalassa clung to him, burying her face against his chest. In her darkest days under Zenobia's control, Samuel had been her lifeline. Now he was giving her back to her father.

She whispered through her tears, "Mr. Collins."

He hugged her once, briefly. "Remember what I told you."

She nodded hard, eyes bright with tears.

Samuel turned away, Leo's voice of gratitude following him to the car. Once inside, with no one to see, tears slid down his face.

He had never been a good man. In business, he had left his conscience far behind. But today, he had done one decent thing. He thought of Taylor. If she knew, maybe she would think he had done the right thing.

He started the engine and pulled away. In the rearview mirror, Leo was still holding Thalassa, watching until the car disappeared. 

Thalassa tilted her head up to Leo and handed him a small teddy bear. "There's a bank card inside."

Leo frowned. She unzipped the bear's back and pulled out a bank card. 

"Twenty million dollars," she told him. "Mr. Collins gave it to me."

Leo's hands shook as he took it. He was not a greedy man, but he knew this would secure Thalassa's future. Samuel had given her a chance for a better life.

Bathed in the pale morning light, father and daughter boarded the ship. The ferry horn sounded, carrying them toward a new life.

Samuel did not return to the villa. To him, the house—once warm with Taylor's laughter—had become a place he could no longer call home. He told Quentin to sell it. In three days, it would belong to someone else.

He drove to a restaurant where he and Taylor had once dined. He ordered a meal for two and a bottle of red wine. He sat alone, eating mechanically, tasting nothing. People glanced at him—well-dressed, refined, and clearly burdened—but he ignored them.

His phone buzzed. Zenobia.

He answered, voice flat, "I sent Thalassa away. She will live with her father now. As for your things, pack them up. The villa will have new owners in three days."

She tried to argue, but he had no interest in hearing her. There had never been a beginning between them, so there would be no ending.

That night, Evergreen City glowed under a sky of neon. Samuel walked aimlessly until he reached the theater district. There, he saw Taylor.

She was with Julian and little Luna, who ran in circles with a sparkler in her hand, laughter spilling into the cold air. Taylor watched her with a tenderness Samuel could feel even from a distance. She loved children. She and Julian would probably have one of their own.

Once, Taylor had wanted a child with him. But he had told her to wait—business came first.

A bitter smile touched his lips. Neon light shimmered in his tears.

Taylor saw him. He looked tired, worn. She had heard about him and Zenobia, though not the details. They held each other's gaze across the street.

Samuel's lips moved, barely audible. "Hello, Taylor."

She smiled faintly in return.

He looked at her one last time, then turned away.

He felt that parting on peaceful terms would be the kindest ending for them. If they crossed paths again, he could still offer her a gentle "It’s been a while." And in a crowded room, he might let his gaze linger on her profile, letting it pull him back to the days they once shared.

He had not found closure, but he had chosen to put it down.

Taylor stood still, her hand warm in Julian's. 

"A man like Samuel won't let himself fall apart," Julian said quietly. "I believe he will not waste his life."

"I believe it too," Taylor replied.

Their shadows stretched long under the streetlights before merging into one. The new year had come and gone. In a few weeks, they would be married. Life was busy, but full.

The next day, Taylor returned to the hospital to prepare for the post-holiday schedule. 

Molly met her at the office door. "Mr. Collins was here. He left this for you."

"Samuel?" Taylor asked. Molly nodded.

When she was alone, Taylor opened the envelope. Inside was a share transfer document—twenty percent of TaySam Tech—and a handwritten letter.

She ignored the papers and unfolded the letter.

It read: [Taylor, only in writing can I say this: I am sorry. I broke the vows we made. What we had was beautiful, and you were everything I could have wished for—yet I wanted more. I cannot change the ending, but I can try to make amends. Please accept this twenty percent as restitution. Taylor, I loved you—even at my worst—but no words can return the years we lost or erase the regret I will carry forever.]

Taylor read it quietly, then folded it with care. She stood by the window, watching sunlight spill over the winter trees. Fresh green buds had begun to push through the dark bark.

She smiled faintly. Julian had been right — everyone started over, sooner or later. Samuel would, too.

She sent him a message: she would not take the shares. He needed them more than she did.

Then she fed the letter into the shredder, letting the white paper vanish into nothing.

Her phone rang. Henry, inviting her to dinner and telling her to bring Julian and Luna. She said she was busy. 

Henry said deliberately, "You and Avery are always too busy. Your mother and I have to beg to see you."

Taylor laughed. "You can save the guilt trips for Avery. We will come tomorrow."

Henry mentioned Avery's blind date—with Isadora. Taylor almost laughed aloud. Henry said their mother had fled the scene as soon as she sensed trouble.

Taylor could not help but wonder how that dinner had gone.

After a One Night Stand with the CEO
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