Chapter Twelve: Meeting Her Father
Diane stepped into the hall and glanced toward the small bedroom Gabriel had chosen.
It was the furthest from hers and barely large enough to fit the bed and desk he'd brought.
His decision felt deliberate, though she wasn't sure why.
Gabriel was never one to settle for anything less than luxury, and yet here he was, seemingly content in the cramped space.
She stared at the closed door for a moment, her inner thoughts seemed to be occupied with questions.
Something about Gabriel's presence unsettled her, but she couldn't let it distract her.
"Diane," a voice called from behind her.
She turned to see Riot approaching.
His expression was serious, and eyes held some urgency that immediately set her on edge.
"Your father's holding a press conference," Riot stated.
Her heart skipped a beat. "When?"
"Before the conference, he's having lunch alone at a private venue," Riot continued. "If we leave now, we can catch him before he goes public."
Her breath quickened. "Today? Now?"
Riot nodded.
The words barely left her lips before she started moving. "Get the car. I need to see him."
>_____<
Riot drove through the bustling streets, thinking about going faster, but his boss seemed nervous, so he didn't rush.
Diane sat beside him, clenching her hands in her lap as she stared out the window.
"What's the plan?" she asked, breaking the tense silence.
Riot glanced at her.
"You'll meet him while he's alone. Keep it casual, but make it clear you want answers. Don't let him brush you off."
Diane nodded, her heart pounded faster.
The thought of facing her father again filled her with both longing and determination.
She needed to know why he had abandoned her, why he allowed Rachel to control him.
As they pulled up to the restaurant, Riot parked and turned to her.
"You've got this," he said.
She forced a small smile. "Thanks."
Riot hesitated before adding, "I'll be close. Just in case."
Diane stepped out of the car and walked toward the entrance.
The restaurant was understated but elegant, the kind of place her father would choose for a private meeting.
She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath before stepping inside.
Diane spotted her father seated at a corner table, his shoulders looked as composed as ever.
He hadn't changed—same expensive suit, same aura of authority.
He didn't notice her at first, too focused on the plate of food in front of him.
"Father..."