His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Bella rewound the footage and watched it again. Then again. She captured his image, enhanced it, tried to see his face. Nothing. The hood shadowed his features completely.

But she had his movements. His height. His gait.

She built a web, connecting CCTV footage from nearby streets, from shops, from traffic cameras. Piece by piece, she tracked him. Across campus. Down the street. Through the city.

And then he disappeared.

She hit a wall. The cameras lost him in a remote area on the outskirts of the city.

She sat back, frustrated. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Then she saved the footage, all of it, and sent it to Leo.

This is the person who put the gift in my bag. I tracked him as far as I could. He disappeared here. She attached a map with the location marked. Maybe you can find something in this area. A clue. Anything.

She stared at the screen for a long moment, her jaw tight.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Leo received Bella’s message on his phone, the screen glowing in the dim light of his office. He read her words slowly, then opened the attachments, the footage, the map, the careful tracking of a ghost through the city.

A deep smile spread across his cold, handsome face.

He looked up at Jay and Jace, who were sitting across from him, waiting.

"She found him," Leo said, turning his phone so they could see the screen. "She tracked the person who put the gift in her bag. Across campus. Through the city. Until he disappeared here." He pointed at the marked location on the map.

Jay’s mouth fell open. He stared at the screen, then at Leo, then back at the screen.

"At this point, she’s a hacking goddess," Jay said, his voice full of wonder. "How did she even manage to track one person through a city this big? There are millions of people here. Millions..and she found him."

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amazement.

"She’s so powerful," he continued. "I mean, we knew she was good. We’ve seen what she can do. But this—" He gestured at the phone. "This is next level."

Jace nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. Admiring.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "She’s so powerful."

He had always admired Bella’s hacking skills. From the first time he saw her work, he had been impressed. And seeing this, he felt even more admiration.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Meanwhile, across the city, Nicolas sat in his office, the afternoon sun glaring through the windows. He had been digging into Dominique’s background, searching for weaknesses, for leverage, for anything he could use against the man who had humiliated him.

What he found made his blood boil.

Dominique King. Sought after male model. According to several media outlets, his facial features were considered the closest to the golden ratio. He was frequently voted one of the most handsome and sexy men in the industry. His face was on billboards, in magazines, on social media feeds that reached millions.

Nicolas snorted, tossing his phone onto his desk.

"What’s so good about looking good?" he muttered to himself. "You need to be rich and powerful. Like me."

He picked up his phone again, opened the camera, and studied his own reflection. He was handsome. He knew he was. Sharp jaw, dark hair, confident smile. He had never had trouble attracting women.

But then he remembered Dominique’s face. Those perfect cheekbones. That jawline. Those dark eyes that seemed to look right through him.

Nicolas’s grip tightened on his phone.

Damn it.

He threw the phone against the wall. It cracked on impact, the screen shattering, pieces scattering across the floor.

"Bad quality camera," he said, his voice tight. "It doesn’t capture my best angle."

He pulled out another phone, his backup, always ready, and dialed his assistant.

She answered on the first ring. "Sir?"

Her name was Elara and she was beautiful. Blonde hair, silky and long. Sky blue eyes that made men stop and stare. She was efficient, loyal, and always dressed impeccably. Nicolas had hired her for her looks as much as her skills.

"How is the blacklist process for Dominique King?" Nicolas asked, his voice cold.

There was a pause.

"Sir," Elara said, her voice carefully neutral, "we are working on it. His agency is providing him protection. Legal teams and public relations. They’re pushing back."

Nicolas’s eyes narrowed. "Push back harder."

"Of course, sir."

But Elara hesitated. Her fingers tightened around her phone.

She didn’t want to blacklist Dominique. Not really. He was her favorite model. She had followed his career for years, admired his work, his grace, his presence. Every photoshoot, every interview, every runway show, she had watched them all.

And her fiance, the man she was going to marry in three months, he wanted to be a model. Dominique was his idol. His inspiration. His dream. He had pictures of Dominique on his vision board, had practiced his poses and had studied his interviews.

If Nicolas blacklisted Dominique, it wouldn’t just ruin Dominique’s career. It would ruin her fiance’s dream before it even began.

"Sir," Elara said carefully, "perhaps we could consider alternative approaches. Legal challenges. Contract disputes. Something less...public."

Nicolas’s voice turned sharp. "I didn’t ask for alternatives. I asked for progress."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Then make it happen."

The line went dead.

Elara stared at her phone, her heart heavy.

She was going to have to destroy her favorite model. And along with him, her fiancé’s dream.

She closed her eyes and took a breath.

Then she got back to work.

.....

Nicolas leaned back in his leather chair, staring at the cracked screen of his phone still lying on the floor. He didn’t bother picking it up. He had others.

"He’s just a small model," he muttered to himself, his lip curling. "How can he compare with my business? With my empire?"

He thought about the deal he had signed with Zeke Sinclair. That deal had changed everything. His company had reached new heights. Profits were up. Influence was spreading and in the coming months, he would be on par with Leonardo Moretti.

The thought made him smile.

He picked up another phone and dialed a new number.

"I need more information on Dominique King," he said. "Find his weaknesses. His secrets. His dirty laundry. Everyone has something to hide."

The voice on the other end agreed.