Chapter 22

• It was a short drive from the hotel to the Patchwork Club. The city lights slid past the tinted windows, and my thoughts kept circling back to my grandfather. This deal—it wasn’t just a business move. It was his dream, one he hadn’t lived to see realized.
• When we arrived, John was already waiting by the club’s entrance, straightening his tie as if to silently remind me we were on show tonight.
• Inside, the private room was warm, with dim amber lighting and a long polished table that smelled faintly of cedar. We had arrived before the clients, so we took our seats to wait.