Diane's POV
The Transcorp Hotel loomed before us, its glass exterior reflecting the morning sun like a gleaming beacon of hope. After our narrow escape from the café, Joan and I sat in stunned silence as our rideshare pulled up to the imposing entrance.
"We made it," Joan said, checking her watch. "With fifteen minutes to spare."
I smoothed my navy blue dress, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in my stomach that had nothing to do with the twins kicking inside me. "Do I look okay? Professional enough?"
Joan squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You look like a woman about to take back her company."
The doorman greeted us with a practiced smile as we entered the marble lobby. Everything about the Transcorp screamed wealth and discretion—from the hushed conversations in the seating areas to the understated elegance of the décor. It was a place where the powerful made deals away from prying eyes.
