His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 762 Bella’s Performance

Bella took a deep breath and then another.

She signaled to the sound tech, a young man with headphones and a clipboard. He nodded and pressed a button.

The music began.

Soft at first, a single piano note, lingering in the air like a question. Then a cello joined, low and warm, wrapping around the silence. Then strings, building, layering, creating a melody that was both sad and hopeful, both gentle and powerful.

Samantha had mixed it herself. Hours of work, adjusting levels, balancing instruments, making sure every note was perfect.

Bella closed her eyes.

She remembered the choreography. The turns, the reaches, the falls, the rises. She had practiced until her muscles ached and her feet bled. She knew this dance. She knew it in her bones.

She opened her eyes and took her position. The curtain rose.

The stage was bathed in soft, golden light. Dust motes floated in the air, catching the glow like tiny stars. The audience was a sea of shadows, faces blurred, eyes watching.

Bella began to move.

Her arms rose, slow and fluid, like wings unfolding. Her body swayed, following the music, becoming part of it. She turned, her dress swirling around her, the flowers on the hem catching the light. She reached for the ceiling, then fell to the ground, then rose again.

Her movements were not perfect. Her turns were not always steady. Her landings were not always smooth. But there was something else. Something in her presence, in her expression, in the way she moved, that made the audience forget about perfection.

She danced like she was telling a story. A story of fear and hope, of darkness and light, of falling and rising again.

Leo watched.

His gray eyes followed every movement, every turn, every reach. He did not blink. He did not breathe. He was holding his breath as he watched, afraid that if he exhaled, she would disappear.

She was beautiful.

Not because of the dress, though the dress was lovely. Not because of the makeup, though the makeup enhanced her features. Not because of the lighting or the music or the stage.

She was beautiful because she was Bella. Because she was his. Because she was up there, alone, in front of hundreds of people, doing something she had never done before, and she was not afraid.

Or maybe she was afraid. Maybe her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty and her legs were weak. But she was doing it anyway.

That was who she was. That was who he loved.

Leo’s guards, positioned in the back of the auditorium, raised their phones and began recording. Leo had instructed them earlier. He wanted to watch this moment again. And again. And again.

On stage, Bella continued to dance.

The music swelled. Her movements grew faster, more urgent. She spun across the stage, her dress billowing behind her, her arms reaching, grasping, letting go.

**

Most people stayed in their comfort zones. They found one thing they were good at, math, writing, cooking, coding and they stayed there. They told themselves they were only good at that one thing, so why try anything else?

Bella was not like that.

Her main talent was hacking and computers. She had known that since she was young, since she had first touched a keyboard and felt the world open up before her. She could have stayed there, hidden in her room, coding and cracking and conquering.

But she wanted more.

She wanted to learn to paint, so she did. She wanted to learn to dance, so she did. She wanted to learn to be brave, to be bold, to be someone who walked onto a stage in front of hundreds of people and danced like no one was watching.

She was still learning. She would always be learning.

And Leo loved that about her.

He watched her spin, her arms outstretched, her face lifted toward the lights. He watched her fall, her body collapsing to the ground, then rise again, stronger than before.

He watched her, and his heart swelled with pride.

Beside him, Samuel Davies watched too.

His blue eyes were fixed on Bella. His expression was unreadable, neither smiling nor frowning, neither approving nor disapproving. But his gaze was intense and focused.

The music slowed. The strings softened. The piano returned, single notes lingering in the air like a farewell.

Bella slowed too. Her movements became gentle, almost tender. She reached toward the audience, toward the lights, toward something only she could see.

Then she stopped.

She stood in the center of the stage, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. A single tear slid down her cheek, catching the light.

The music faded.

Silence.

Then the audience erupted.

Loud clapping. Cheering. Whistling. Stomping. The sound was deafening, overwhelming, beautiful.

Bella’s eyes widened. She looked out at the sea of faces, at the waving hands, at the smiling parents and cheering students. She looked at Leo, found him in the crowd, and their eyes met.

She smiled. Bowed. And walked off stage.

Leo leaned back in his seat, a slow smile spreading across his face.

His Bunny had done it.

His Bunny had conquered the stage.

His Bunny was amazing.

Beside him, Samuel Davies watched Bella disappear into the wings. His blue eyes lingered on the empty space where she had been.

—Backstage—

Krystal ground her teeth in anger. Her jaw ached from clenching. Her nails had left crescent-shaped marks in her palms.

Bella had not made a fool out of herself. Instead, she had become even more popular. The audience loved her. The students were already posting about her on social media. The professors were nodding in approval.

But who had told Bella about this? Who had warned her? Krystal had been so careful. She had registered Bella’s name secretly. No one was supposed to know.

And not to mention, her anger was rising every time she heard groups of girls talking about Bella’s dance.

"Did you see her? She was amazing."

"The way she moved... it was like she was telling a story."

"I know her. She’s in my CS class. She’s super smart too."

"She has this aura, you know? Like power. Like she’s meant to be on stage."

Krystal wanted to scream.

She pushed past a group of students, her shoulders bumping against theirs, not apologizing. She needed to get away. She needed to think. She needed to figure out how this had happened.

Behind her, the girls continued talking.

"Her dance wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t matter."

"Exactly. It was something else. Something more."

Krystal walked faster.