His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 559 Why do you hate Nicolas so much?

Chapter 559: Chapter 559 Why do you hate Nicolas so much?

Jason stared at him. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his own face.

"You’re evil."

"I’m efficient." Dom raised his glass in a mock toast toward Nicolas, who was completely oblivious, still lounging with his wine and his smug expression. "To rat-faced men with very deep pockets and very poor judgment."

Jason clinked his whiskey against Dom’s glittering glass.

"To Nicolas’s credit card," he agreed. "May it rest in peace."

They drank.

Across the bar, Nicolas suddenly felt a strange chill run down his spine. He glanced around, confused, then shrugged it off and returned to his wine.

Dom’s grin widened.

"This," he murmured, "is almost as satisfying as actually pushing him off a cliff."

"Almost," Jason agreed.

They ordered another round.

Meanwhile, inside Bella and Leo’s room, the warm amber lighting softened every edge. Bella sat carefully beside him on the bed, her focus entirely on his back as she gently lifted the edge of his shirt.

The wound looked so much better now. The angry red had faded to something quieter, the stitches neat against healing skin. She traced her fingers lightly along the edges, feather-soft.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked softly, her touch barely there.

"No," he murmured.

A smile bloomed across her face—genuine, relieved, beautiful. She leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his shoulder.

Leo turned his head slightly, watching her from the corner of his eye.

She was wearing one of his old shirts, soft and worn, hanging loose on her frame. Baggy pajama pants, her feet bare against the sheets. Her hair was swept up in a lazy bun, little strands escaping to frame her face.

She looked soft. Warm. Completely at home. His home.

His heart did something complicated in his chest.

"What?" she asked, catching his gaze.

"Nothing." His voice was quiet, rough around the edges. "Just looking."

A faint blush touched her cheeks. She ducked her head, still smiling, and pressed one more kiss to his shoulder before settling beside him.

Leo turned onto his side, facing her carefully so he didn’t strain his back. Bella’s hands immediately found their way into his thick hair, fingers threading through the dark waves in slow, soothing strokes.

The motion was automatic now..comforting for both of them.

"Why do you hate Nicolas so much?" she asked softly, her voice gentle in the quiet room.

Leo’s eyes drifted half-closed under her touch, but his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"He’s annoying," he said flatly. "He was my classmate back then. My enemy, basically. The kind of person who exists just to push your buttons. A pure rage-baiter."

Bella’s fingers continued their slow rhythm, waiting.

"Later, he pursued Hazel." Leo’s voice shifted—something darker threading through it. "Obviously, he was persistent. I’ll give him that. But Hazel... she changed after the accident. The scar on her face made her different. Withdrawn. She thought no one would want her, not really."

Bella’s hands stilled for just a moment.

Leo continued, his voice low and rough with old frustration. "And he took advantage of that. He saw her vulnerability and he—" He stopped, jaw working as the words caught. "He melted her heart. Made her believe she was worthy of love. Which she always was. But he used her lowest moment to get close to her."

Bella absorbed this slowly, her fingers never pausing in their gentle motion through his hair. The rhythm was soothing, grounding, even as her mind turned over his words.

"Does he love her?" she asked softly.

Leo’s eyes, half-closed, flickered with something dark. "Obviously not. But Hazel doesn’t see it. She has turned a blind eye to everything." His voice gained an edge. "She doesn’t see how he flirts with other women, right in front of her. I tried to tell her about his history—basically, he has too much past. Too many women. Too many ’just friends.’ Too many late nights that weren’t business."

Bella nodded thoughtfully, her fingers tracing down to massage his scalp gently. Leo’s eyes drifted closed again, a low sound of appreciation escaping him despite the heavy topic.

"You said she’s a shooter, right?" Bella asked casually.

Leo’s eyes opened, confusion flickering in their gray depths. "Yes. Why?"

"Well." Bella’s voice was light, almost conversational. "If she finds out he’s doing something wrong—cheating, lying, whatever—she’ll shoot him, right?"

Leo blinked.

"She’s trained. She’s accurate. And from what you’ve told me, she’s not exactly the forgiving type." Bella shrugged one shoulder, still playing with his hair. "So why are you getting so worked up? Let him dig his own grave. Focus on your recovery instead."

A slow, unexpected smile spread across Leo’s face.

"I want my healthy Leo back," Bella added, her voice softening. "Not one stressed over a rat-faced man who’s going to get himself killed by his own fiancée eventually."

Leo stared at her for a long moment. Then, without warning, he moved—careful of his back but deliberate—rolling until he hovered above her, arms braced on either side of her head. His weight was supported, but the position left no doubt about who was in control.

"My sweetest Bella," he murmured, looking down at her with undisguised amusement and something much deeper, "is becoming sassy."

Bella blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift. Her cheeks flushed a warm pink.

"And I love that," he added quietly.

Bella’s blush deepened, but she didn’t look away. Instead, her hands came up to frame his face, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones.

"Someone has to keep you from spiraling into murder plots," she whispered.

"Murder plots you just encouraged."

"I encouraged patience. There’s a difference."

He huffed a quiet laugh, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. "When did you get so smart about these things?"

"I’ve always been smart. You were just too busy being broody to notice."

He laughed loudly at this, and Bella smiled up at him, victorious.

"Now get off me," she said gently, tapping his shoulder. "You’re supposed to be resting."

"I am resting."

"This isn’t resting. This is hovering."

"Hovering is my preferred form of rest."

She gave him a look—unimpressed, fond, utterly unafraid of the most dangerous man in the room.

Leo sighed dramatically and rolled back to his side, pulling her with him so she was tucked against his chest. His arm wrapped securely around her waist, his chin resting on top of her head.

"You’re impossible," he muttered into her hair.

"You love it."

"...Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I do."

Bella smiled against his chest, her fingers finding their way back to his hair..