章 2599: Chapter 1820: Summer in Fools' Village (32)_2

"Yes, Alfred said he didn't keep anything important there, so I went to find a book to read, I didn't look too closely, just flipped through it."

"Did you eat in there?"

Selina stiffened for a moment, struggled to swallow her mouthful of food, and with a glance to the side said, "Perhaps... no, or... a little bit?"

"Did you or didn't you?" Bruce asked helplessly.

"Alright, I ate a cookie. It wasn't anything flavorful, and I made sure to wrap it in a napkin. I absolutely didn't make a mess on your book."

Bruce pulled out a small transparent bag, like those often used in chemistry labs to hold small solid materials. Inside it was a piece of cookie crumb about the size and shape of half a fingernail.

"God, when did it fall?!" Selina said incredulously. "Every bite I take, I look down at the floor about twenty times. How could there still be crumbs?"

"I found it in the gap of the sofa by the bed. It probably fell onto your clothes when you were reading, then slid into the gap when you stood up."

"Come on, Bruce, you must have had afternoon tea in your study, right? This kind of food crumbles, I'm not some cookie detective!"

Selina looked at Bruce with wide eyes, trying to bluff her way past, but finding Bruce's face expressionless, she groaned in defeat and said,

"Alright, I thought I could eat in there, so I brought in a half-eaten cookie. I promise I won't do it again next time. I'm not saying the cookie won't crumble, but I'll make sure it won't crumble on your study sofa again. I promise!"

Watching Selina making a cross over her chest and swearing, Bruce laid the little bag flat on the table, put his hands on the table and said, "You can eat in the study. I used to have tea there. There are many reasons a cookie could crumble, but I don't mind."

"But, Selina, I analyzed the air holes in the cookie flour and the origin of the cocoa powder in this half of the chocolate chip, and I found that it's a product of a cheap food company from Metropolis, a 39-cent family-size GNE chocolate butter cookie..."

Selina's eyes widened in shock. She heard the dissatisfaction in Bruce's words, so she put down her food, jumped off the bar stool, spread her hands, and said to Bruce, "My God! Listen to yourself, 'cheap food company.' Food is just food. You can't be trying to stop me from eating what you call cheap food, can you?!"

"Come on, Bruce. I wasn't born into wealth and grew up eating organic food like you. You can't expect me not to eat mass-produced industrial food just because you consider it to be cheap. That's much more unreasonable than insisting I wear those horrible dresses!"

"Listen, Selina, this has nothing to do with the price. I am absolutely not..."

"You would absolutely not discriminate against my background." Selina stood across the island countertop with hands on her hips and said, "Then you would say that I now have better choices, I don't need to eat these cheap foods anymore. You offer me these because you love me and so I don't need to feel bad or be ashamed for wanting to live a better life and you forgive me for these small habits..."

"Alright, listen to me, Bruce. I'm really sorry about getting cookie crumbs on your sofa. I'll try not to eat anywhere except at a table next time. But I'll eat what I want, regardless of whether it's cheap or not. You can't manipulate me on this."

Bruce's expression seemed a little helpless. Selina looked into his eyes, took two steps back, shook her head, turned around, and walked towards the door.

Selina left Wayne Manor and deftly scaled a building rooftop, deciding to take a typical nighttime tour of Gotham to vent her frustrations.

Just as she reached the flat surface, a shadowy figure appeared behind her. A slightly raspy female voice broke the silence, "Look what we have, an angry little kitten. Did you have a spat with your pet-owner?"

Selina swiveled, spotting a dark-haired woman in a trench coat standing behind her. The woman's face was familiar as if from a newspaper clipping.

"Talia Al Ghul?"

"It's me." Talia affirmed, standing behind Selina and then added, "Are you upset that I accused your billionaire beau?"

Selina sucked in a breath. Instantly, she moved with feline grace, cracking her pitch-black whip towards Talia like a slinking snake's tail.

"Angry that I hit a nerve?" Talia gracefully dodged, throwing a trio of hidden weapons. Unfazed, Selina persisted in her attack, watching Talia observe the whip's trajectory and remark, "So, you're siding with Bruce, huh? Not surprising. How many women can resist the title of world's wealthiest man's wife?"

With a resounding snap, the lash bore more force. Talia noticed the rage and murderous intent spreading over Selina's face but missed the eagle-clawed hand, hidden behind Selina's back.

"Hisss!"

Night had fallen deeply. Bruce, still beside the kitchen island, watched as Selina sauntered in, his eyes moving to her bloody knuckles.

With a glint of light in her dark eyes, Selina locked eyes with Bruce, "I apologize for what I said before. But 'cheap crap' was too kind a term. We used to call that kind of biscuit 'Poor Ghost Cookies'."

"I didn't mean to..."

"Shut up, let me talk. Do you know why I still buy them?"

Bruce silently watched Selina, knowing that she didn't need his answer. Selina tossed her whip onto the nearby sofa and continued, "Back when I worked alongside Lucky Mama, she used to shop at unknown spots weekly. She'd buy a bag full of these nickel Poor Ghost Cookies, she delivered them to the top of the closet."

"Only the well-behaved kids got a package, but I used to get extra every week because we were close, she liked me."

"Unlike you lot, born with bloody teas and teatime in manors, the Poor Ghost Cookie was the only sweet treat I had as a child. That's why I still buy them."

Bruce's expression softened immensely. But within a second, Selina's wrathful howl cut the silence, "That's the story you wanted, right? The poor must either be pitiful, helpless, or ignorant to choose something! You damned elitists!"

"Listen here, Bruce Wayne. I'd rather eat a bag of 39-cent Poor Ghost Cookies than your $39 sliver of organic cake. Why? Because the goddamn cookies are sweeter! I just love my high-sugar, high-calorie junk food!!!"

"And I don't want to dress like a Christmas tree for the wedding. Not because it's too expensive or high-end, and I can't handle that. It's because it's damned uncomfortable!!!"

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