His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 513 Who was pretending?
Later, she went inside to her room. Bella closed the door softly behind her and leaned her back against it for a moment. The whole day had been full, warm in a way she had never known before, but now that she was alone, a familiar alertness slowly crept back into her chest. She crossed the room, pulled the chair out, and sat down in front of the desk William had prepared for her so carefully. When she pressed the power button, the monitor came alive with a soft sound, bathing her face in a cool glow.
Her fingers moved with instinctive ease. She opened her private site, entered the layered passwords without hesitation, and logged in. Almost instantly, the screen divided into multiple windows, each showing a different angle of the house she shared with Leo. Corridors. Living room. Kitchen. The garden gate. The security feeds were clear and high definition.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, focus sharpening as she leaned closer.
She had built this system herself. She had made sure the private software included a sensor system. Every alert trigger, every hidden layer of protection had been designed by her and quietly integrated into the house. It could detect movement patterns, recognize abnormal pauses, and flag unfamiliar behavior. Leo knew the basics, enough to check things when needed, but the deeper layers were hers alone. Some of them were complex enough that even he preferred to leave them to her.
The feeds showed nothing unusual.
Maids moved through the halls naturally, their routines familiar and unchanged. Guards stood at their posts, relaxed but attentive. The kitchen was empty. The garden remained still, shadows stretching gently across stone paths. Everything looked normal.
She rested her elbows on the desk and cupped her cheeks in her hands, staring at the screen with a faint frown. Leo had told her there was a spy. Someone inside the house. Someone patient enough to blend in, careful enough to earn trust. And that was the part that unsettled her the most.
Everyone felt like family.
She thought of the maids who scolded her gently when she skipped meals a few times, the guards who smiled at her in quiet reassurance, the familiar footsteps she recognized even without looking. These were not strangers.
So who was pretending?
Her gaze drifted from screen to screen, slower now, thoughtful. If someone was hiding, they were good. Very good. Or maybe they had not acted yet. Maybe they were waiting. Watching, the same way she was.
A small sigh slipped from her lips.
She leaned back in the chair, eyes still fixed on the glowing monitors, her mind working through possibilities she did not like. Trust was dangerous. Doubt was exhausting. And somewhere between the two, the truth was quietly waiting.
"I’ll find you," she murmured under her breath, not with anger, but with calm certainty.
For now, everything looked peaceful.
But Bella knew better than to mistake silence for safety.
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At that same hour, a young woman stood close to Alexa, her look striking. She wore goth-inspired makeup herself, dark kohl lining her eyes, smoky shadow blended high toward her temples, lips painted a muted wine shade that contrasted with her pale skin. Small silver rings glinted on almost every finger as she worked, thin chains looping around her wrists, a tiny crescent-moon pendant resting against the collar of her black top. Despite her dramatic appearance, her hands were gentle and precise.
Alexa sat back in the high chair, one hand resting possessively on her large, rounded stomach. The makeup artist carefully applied a light, skin-toned concealer over faint scratch marks that had appeared over the past month, marks left behind by the stretching of her skin as the baby grew. Alexa’s jaw tightened slightly as she watched her own reflection in the mirror, dissatisfaction flickering across her face. She hated those marks. They felt like proof of something she couldn’t control, something that made her feel less perfect.
They were currently on set, shooting scenes for her new film. Today’s sequence focused on a pregnant woman, her child’s father unknown. Later in the story, it would be revealed that the man was a powerful CEO, a twist meant to shock the audience and pull at their sympathy. The director had insisted on filming the pregnancy scenes now and the post-delivery scenes soon after, believing it would give the film a raw, natural realism that no prosthetic could match.
Alexa was excited about it, even if she didn’t show it openly. The role was perfect, and it gave her a boost in popularity.
Online reactions had been mixed at first. Trolls had been loud, cruel, relentless. But as filming progressed and behind-the-scenes photos surfaced, the tone slowly shifted. Fans began praising her dedication. When it became public knowledge that she was genuinely pregnant, the harsh comments softened. People became more patient, more gentle with their words.
She had even gained a new group of followers—"mama fans," as her manager jokingly called them—after she posted a few carefully styled photos, her hands cradling her belly, soft smiles replacing her usual sharp expressions. Likes poured in. Supportive messages followed. For the first time in a long while, Alexa felt the world leaning toward her instead of away.
As the makeup artist stepped back to admire her work, Alexa straightened slightly, smoothing her dress over her stomach.
Her assistant rushed in, barely able to contain her excitement, her heels clicking fast against the floor.
"Ma’am, ma’am, I’ve got news," she said, her eyes shining.
Alexa glanced up from her phone, still in a surprisingly good mood. "What is it?" she asked lazily, one hand resting over her belly.
"I heard that old William is organizing a very grand party," the assistant said quickly.
"A party?" she repeated slowly. "William... Warren Wilson?"
Her assistant nodded quickly, unable to hide her excitement. "Yes, ma’am. A very big one. From what I heard, it’s not just business. It’s personal. Very personal." She leaned in a little, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves might be listening. "They’re saying it’s some kind of family announcement. Only selected guests."
