Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 301

A man in a dark gray trench coat suddenly stepped in front of Grace.

He wore a mask and a hat, his features completely obscured.

But the chilling presence he exuded made Mark instinctively take a step back.

The man said nothing, merely staring at Mark with a cold gaze.

It was the kind of look that served as a warning.

Mark swallowed hard, muttered, “Freak,” and ran off with the flowers.

Grace watched him go, her heart giving a painful lurch as she looked at the man who had helped her.

That silhouette…

It was so familiar.

Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a tall, straight posture that was evident even under the trench coat.

“…Damien?”

Grace called out tentatively.

The man’s back clearly stiffened.

But he didn’t turn around.

He pulled the brim of his hat lower and said in an extremely hoarse, unrecognizable voice, “Miss, you have the wrong person.”

With that, he walked away quickly, his pace flustered. It looked like he was fleeing.

Grace stood frozen, watching his silhouette disappear around the corner.

She laughed at herself.

How could it possibly be him?

Right now, he should be in Jarrow City, locked in a bitter struggle with the Clarke family.

Why would a man like him be here?

“Grace, you’re really losing it.”

She patted her own cheeks. “You said you wouldn’t think about him. Why are you hallucinating now?”

***

Around the corner.

Damien leaned against the wall, gasping for breath.

He pulled off his mask, revealing a face completely drained of color.

That was too close.

He had been a hair's breadth away from turning around and pulling her into his arms.

Hearing her say his name, even in that confused and guarded tone, felt like a long-awaited rain after a drought.

“Cough, cough…”

Damien covered his mouth, and a smear of crimson stained his palm.

Even though she was the second author, it was still a tremendous honor.

She became busier.

Her days were spent shuttling between the lab and the library.

One afternoon, she was at the institute's library looking for materials.

A thick volume of “The History of Computers” was on a high shelf, just out of her reach.

As she was about to look for a stepladder, an old but strong hand reached up and retrieved it for her.

“Young lady, are you interested in this part of history too?”

The speaker was an older man with gold-rimmed glasses and a scholarly air.

Grace took the book and nodded politely. “Thank you. I was hoping to look up some information on early algorithms.”

The man smiled, his gaze falling on the notebook in her hand.

On the cover, three words were written: Bastian Hawke.

It was a keepsake from her late uncle, and Grace’s most treasured possession.

The man’s expression changed instantly.

“This notebook… What is your relationship to Bastian Hawke?”

Grace was taken aback. “You knew my uncle?”

“Uncle…” The man’s eyes grew moist. “So, you’re Bastian’s niece. No wonder, no wonder I saw a resemblance to him in your features.”