Poppy stood in front of her, blocking her way. "Serena, let's talk."
"Talk?! What do we have to talk about?!" Serena snapped.
"There are some things, about Uncle Beckett, that I think you might be interested in."
"Uncle Beckett?!" Serena raised an eyebrow. "You mean Clint's father, Gaius?!"
"Who else could it be?!" Poppy smirked, pleased that she had caught Serena's attention. She raised her chin. "So, what do you say? Are you coming or not?!"
In truth, she had already signed the divorce agreement with Clint, and they were no longer tied to each other. As for his father, there was no need for her to get involved anymore.
But Serena couldn't help it; she was the kind of person who couldn't leave a grudge buried in her heart.
Earlier, outside the conference room, Poppy's odd mention of Gaius and Clint's strange reaction had piqued her curiosity.
If no one brought it up again, she might have let it go, but Poppy just wouldn't stop and was practically handing her the information on a silver platter.
After a brief moment of weighing it all out, Serena smiled lightly. "Fine, I'll go. For me, it's just a story to listen to. Anyway, I'm free right now, and it's a good way to pass the time. Why not?"
"Good! The café downstairs!" Poppy grinned, clearly satisfied with herself.
Serena didn't think too much of it, assuming that Poppy had heard about the Becketts matters. She didn't know, and Poppy was just showing off.
The two of them went downstairs and entered the street-level café of the Beckett Corp building.
It wasn't yet peak lunchtime, so the café was still fairly quiet.
Once they sat down, a waiter quickly approached, asking politely what they would like to drink.
Serena stayed silent, her upbringing compelling her to wait for Poppy to order first.
"An iced Americano," Poppy said coolly to the waiter.
"Alright, ma'am," the waiter responded, then turned to Serena, "And for you?"
"I'll have..."
"A cappuccino, half sugar, double milk!" Before Serena could speak, Poppy had already ordered for her, her tone so natural that the waiter instinctively assumed they were close friends.
"Alright!" The waiter smiled and nodded. "It's rare to see such beautiful ladies like you two here! You seem like such good friends!"
Serena awkwardly nodded, not saying much, and simply smiled and thanked the waiter.
The waiter left tactfully.
Serena immediately looked up, her gaze questioning as she turned to Poppy. "How do you know my tastes so well, Miss Castano?"
Poppy looked slightly embarrassed, brushing the stray hair from her forehead and behind her ear. She cleared her throat and said, "I guessed."
"Guessed?! Even if you guessed I like cappuccinos, how could you know I like it half-sweet and with double milk?!"
Poppy rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "What's so hard to guess? Isn't this how all pretentious women drink their coffee? You're so pretentious, it's not surprising you like it!"
Serena scrutinized her closely. Seeing that she probably wouldn't get anything more from her, Serena shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay."
It didn't matter to her. If she knew, she knew. It wasn't like it harmed her in any way.
She leaned back and asked casually, "Alright, tell me, what happened with Clint's father?"
Poppy smirked and leaned forward, adopting a mysterious tone. "You know that Uncle Beckett passed away, right?"
"Of course!" Serena sneered, "No matter what, I was married to Clint for a few years. How could I not know that? His father had already passed before we even met."
"Then do you know how Uncle Beckett died?"
"He was sick. Cancer."
Serena grew increasingly bored, as Clint had already told her all of this when they first met.
"Hahaha!" Poppy suddenly burst out laughing, her face displaying an over-the-top sense of triumph.
Serena looked at her in confusion. "Is it really that funny?"
"It is funny, but I'm not laughing at Uncle Beckett's death. I'm laughing because you're so stupid."
"What do you mean?!"
"I'll tell you. Uncle Beckett didn't die of sickness. He committed suicide!"
"What?!" Serena was stunned. "Suicide?!"
Poppy's smug expression grew even more evident. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and, in a tone of mockery, added, "Yep! Suicide! He jumped off a building! He died on the spot! I heard his skull shattered, and his brain was splattered everywhere..."
"Enough!" Serena raised her hand to stop her from continuing to describe the gruesome details. "Why are you telling me this? If you're trying to scare me, sorry, I'm not a three-year-old who can be frightened by a few words like that!"
"Scare you? Of course not! I don't have the time to tell you ghost stories for free! I'm telling you this because it's connected to you!"
"...!" Serena sneered, "Miss Castano, I've known for a while that you have some serious issues with your worldview, but I didn't expect you to be mentally unstable as well! I'd suggest you go to the hospital and see a neurologist! Out of goodwill, I'm telling you now, if you have a problem, you should treat it early!"
"What, don't believe me?!" Poppy was unusually calm.
"If you were at least a little more believable, maybe I'd believe you. But when I met Clint, his father was already dead. I never even met the man, so how could I be involved in his death?!"
"It has nothing to do with you, but it has everything to do with your father, Mayor Knowles!"
The smile on Serena's face faltered, and her tone became more serious. "My dad?!"
Poppy seemed to relish the shock on her face. Nodding, she replied, "Uncle Beckett's death was caused by your father, Bram Knowles!"
"You're talking nonsense!" Serena immediately denied it without hesitation.
"Why are you so worked up? Feeling guilty?"
Serena composed herself. "I don't understand what you're saying."
"Don't understand? Well, let me explain it to you. Back then..."
At that moment, the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee. "Ladies, your coffee is here!"
Serena gave a symbolic nod, while Poppy didn't even acknowledge the waiter.
After the waiter left, Poppy immediately opened her mouth, eager to continue her unfinished story.
Before she could say a word, suddenly-
"What are you two doing?!"
An angry voice rang out. Both Poppy and Serena turned to see the source of the interruption.
Clint stood in the doorway, his face ashen, gripping the steel door handle so tightly that his knuckles were white.
Poppy's eyes flashed with fear. She stammered, "Cli-Clint... How... How did you get here?!"
Clint strode over, grabbed her wrist, and, in a harsh tone, demanded, "What were you two talking about here?!"
"Nothing... nothing! I was just chatting with Serena!"
"Chatting?!" Clint turned to Serena, his voice tense. "She... she didn't say anything crazy, did she?!"
***