"Knowing your father, Tryson, there must have been some kind of tactic, some statistic or method he could have laced without you even realizing it. Probably something you inhaled or came into contact with without being aware of it." Jude's eyes were focused, his thoughts methodical.
"You know your father so well, and you know how he operates. He's always been a master at these kinds of manipulations, finding ways to slip through the cracks." Jude said, his voice steady but his gaze piercing.
Tryson stood still, his mind working through the possibilities. The thought of his father being so calculating, so subtle in his approach, was enough to stir up a storm of anger and helplessness within him.
He'd been cautious, yet somehow, his father had outmaneuvered him, slipping something under his radar.
"So they really planned this," Tryson muttered under his breath, his voice darkening. "They knew exactly how to get to me."
Tryson sat in silence, struggling to process Jude's words.
