"Mr. Clarke," Grace swiveled in her chair to face Damien, who was peeling a second apple for her on the sofa. "Do you think all villains share a single brain? Or are their scripts just photocopies of each other?"
The fruit knife in Damien's hand paused for a second. The apple peel he was carving came off in one continuous, paper-thin strip.
He lifted his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"First, they accused me of tax evasion, then corporate espionage, and then cutting brake lines."
"And... haven't they played the academic fraud card a few times already? Don't they get tired of it?"
Grace took a crunchy bite of her apple and mumbled, "Back then, Lilian also claimed I stole her experiment data. Has Amelia not watched any other dramas? This move is so overused."
"And these netizens," Grace pointed at the rapidly scrolling comments on the screen. "They're just as mindless, always letting themselves be used as pawns. Last time they were calling me ungrateful, this time they're calling me an academic fraud. What's next? They're going to blame me for an alien invasion?"
Damien cut the peeled apple into small pieces, stuck a toothpick in one, and held it out to her.
"Eat first," he commanded.
Grace obediently took a bite, her cheeks puffing out like a squirrel's.
Damien took a napkin and wiped away the juice that had trickled from the corner of her mouth, his tone teasing. "Weren't you just as mindless back then?"
Grace choked, nearly swallowing the apple whole.
"Damien!"
"Am I wrong?" Damien raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly forward. "Who was it that, because Ethan once said he 'disliked bookworms who only did experiments,' was actually going to sign her research over to someone else? And who was it that, in the middle of winter, froze her hands making soup for him, only to be thrown out of the kitchen, soup and all?"

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