Meeting Her Father

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."

 >__<

Meanwhile, Gabriel was in his office at the private hospital he owned, staring out the window at the city skyline. 

His desk was clear except for a single folder, its contents seemed untouched. 

He leaned back in his chair, Diane's words kept haunting his mind.

"If you want them to be safe."

Her tone had been even, he couldn't understand her expression, but something about the way she said it had unsettled him.

 At first, he'd dismissed it as another of her games, a ploy to test his patience. 

But the more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him.

He glanced at the folder, which contained everything he'd learned about her family since their marriage. 

The transaction between his father and her family was documented: the payment that had secured Diane as his bride, the silence that followed.

'Why had her family never reached out after the deal was sealed? Not even to check on her?'

Gabriel's thoughts darkened as he recalled something Adrian had said a few days ago:

"Diane loves pain. The more she's tortured, the more she thrives on it."

At the time, Gabriel had brushed it off as an evil speculation, a meaningless comment from someone who didn't understand Diane's resilience. 

But now, he wasn't so sure. 

Adrian's tone had been oddly knowing, almost smug, as if he'd uncovered something no one else had.

Gabriel frowned, his fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair. 

Adrian wasn't one to speak without purpose, and Diane's behavior wasn't adding up. 

She projected strength, but there was a fragility beneath it—a fear she tried desperately to hide.

He shifted to the scars he'd glimpsed on her back. 

They weren't the faint marks of an accident or childhood mischief. 

They were purposely, inflicted with precision and cruelty. 

The realisation settled over him like a hard weight.

"She didn't lie to me," Gabriel murmured to himself. His voice was quiet but distant. 

He sat forward, resting his elbows on the desk. 

The pieces were falling into place, and the picture they formed was deeply unsettling. 

Diane's family had taken his father's money and disappeared, leaving her behind without so much as a word. 

They hadn't protected her—they'd used her.

"They're after the money," he muttered, his jaw tightened immediately. "That's all it's ever been about."

The thought angered him, but it also stirred something else: something like protectiveness he hadn't expected. 

For the first time, Gabriel saw Diane not as an adversary but as someone who had been cast aside, betrayed by the people who were supposed to care for her.

He reached for his phone and sent a quick message to his assistant:

"Increase security around Diane. Start today. No one gets close to her without my approval."

Gabriel paced his office, unable to shake the growing sense of unease. 

His thoughts kept circling back to Diane's scars, her family's silence, and the cold detachment with which they had sold her off.

"What kind of people do that to their own daughter?"

His phone buzzed, pulling him back to reality. 

He glanced at the screen: a message from his private investigator.

"We've found something. Need to meet in person."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door, desperate to uncover the truth.

 >___<

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…"