The father and son chatted idly, their conversation drifting from one subject to another until, somehow, they found themselves deep into a discussion about recent investment projects.
Dorothy, meanwhile, kept eating, though she couldn't help noticing her husband and son growing more and more animated. Finally, she interrupted Vincent with a gentle admonition. "If you don't start eating, your dinner's going to go cold."
She was nearly finished with her own meal, and yet the two of them were still engrossed in talking about drone systems.
Catching his wife's look, Vincent immediately abandoned the conversation, picked up his fork, and turned his full attention to his food.
Beasley couldn't help but marvel at the transformation. Just moments ago, his father had been an incisive, commanding presence, dissecting investment strategies with sharp insight. Now, with a single word from his mother, the man became a picture of obedience, quietly tucking into his meal.
Beasley had no intention of ending up like his father—so easily controlled, his feelings and actions dictated by a single person's words.
Still, his mother seemed in much better spirits now. Her complexion had improved, and she even looked a little cheerful.
Clearly, the woman who'd visited earlier had said all the right things to win her favor.
With nothing left for him to do here, Beasley was about to excuse himself from the table when Dorothy suddenly turned to him. "Beasley, there's something I need you to look into for me."
He paused mid-motion and sat back down. "What is it?"
Dorothy unlocked her phone, opened an anonymous message, and handed it to him. "I received this while your father and I were traveling abroad."
Beasley glanced at the screen, his expression unchanged, as if he'd expected this all along.
"Can you track down who sent this?" Dorothy asked.
It was this same sender who, that day, had tipped her off about Beasley and Willa's divorce with an anonymous message.
Beasley handed the phone back to his mother, thinking, Is there even a need to investigate? Odds are, it was all orchestrated by that woman herself.


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