His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 763 Announcement

"Oh my goodness! My heart is still beating so fast," Bella said, pressing her hand to her chest. She could feel her pulse racing beneath her palm, a wild, uneven rhythm that refused to calm down. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath still slightly shallow, and her whole body hummed with leftover adrenaline. The rush of the performance still lingered in her veins, electric and alive.

Karl smiled at her. He was leaning against the wall near the stage entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other. In his hand was a bottle of water, cold, with condensation dripping down the sides and beading on the plastic.

He held it out to her.

Bella took it gratefully, twisting off the cap and taking a long sip. The cool water slid down her throat, soothing and refreshing, washing away the dryness that had settled there. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the cold spread through her chest, imagining it cooling the heat still burning in her cheeks.

"Thanks," she said, lowering the bottle and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Karl nodded, pushing off the wall to stand upright. "You were amazing up there. Seriously. I have seen a lot of performances tonight, but yours was different."

Bella shook her head, still catching her breath. "I was so scared."

Karl tilted his head. "You did not look scared."

"I felt scared." She pressed her hand to her stomach, where the butterflies were still fluttering. "My legs were shaking. My hands were shaking. I forgot the choreography for a second in the middle."

Karl’s smile widened. "That is the secret, then. Looking confident even when you are terrified. You pulled it off. No one could tell."

Bella laughed softly, shaking her head. She looked around backstage. Students rushed past in a blur of color and motion, some in costume, some carrying props, some just trying to find their friends in the chaos. The noise was loud, with voices overlapping, music bleeding in from the auditorium, and the thump of footsteps on the floor.

"Have you seen Mira?" Bella asked.

Karl’s smile faded. He shook his head slowly, his expression tightening. "No. I have no idea where she is. Maybe she is sitting in the audience?"

Bella frowned. Mira had said she would be backstage, helping and supporting. She had promised. She had looked Bella in the eye and promised. But Bella had not seen her all evening. Not once.

"Maybe," Bella said, but she did not believe it.

She handed the water bottle back to Karl, her fingers brushing against his.

"I need to go change," she said. "This dress is beautiful, but I cannot breathe in it anymore. The adrenaline is wearing off."

Karl nodded. "I will wait here. Do not take too long."

Bella hurried toward the dressing rooms, weaving through the crowd, her dress swishing around her ankles. The flowers on the hem caught the light, pale pink and gold, shimmering as she moved like tiny stars scattered across fabric.

She found her dressing room at the end of the hallway, the sign still on the door. Taken. She pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room was empty. The makeup team had packed up their suitcases and left, probably already on their way to their next job. The mirror was clean, wiped down, with no smudges or streaks. The chair was pushed in, the velvet cushion slightly indented from where she had sat. The only things left were her bag, sitting on the small table, and her casual clothes folded neatly on the chair.

Bella closed the door and locked it.

She leaned against the wood, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The room was quiet. The noise from backstage was muffled and distant. She was alone.

Then she pushed off the door and walked to the chair. She unzipped her dress carefully, stepping out of it, holding it like it was made of glass, like it might shatter if she breathed on it wrong. She hung it on a hanger she found in the corner, the metal cool against her fingers, and covered it with a plastic bag to keep it safe.

She pulled on her jeans and her loose sweater, the familiar fabric comforting against her skin, soft and worn and hers. She wiped off her makeup with a wet cloth, scrubbing until her face was clean and bare, until her cheeks were pink from the friction.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

Her cheeks were pink. Her eyes were still bright, still sparkling with the remnants of the performance. Her lips were curved in a small, satisfied smile that she could not seem to wipe away.

She ran her fingers through her hair, untangling the waves, letting it fall loose around her shoulders.

Then she picked up her bag, unlocked the door, and walked out.

**

Bella found an empty seat in the audience, slipping into it quietly as the lights dimmed and the next segment began. She smoothed her sweater over her jeans and crossed her legs, a small smirk playing on her lips.

It was time to watch the show.

The awards section began. Students walked across the stage one by one, shaking hands with professors, accepting certificates, and posing for photos. Top scorers from each department. Perfect attendance. Outstanding projects. Leadership awards. Community service recognition.

The audience clapped politely. Parents cheered. Cameras flashed, capturing proud smiles and tearful eyes.

Bella watched. She did not clap.

Then came the announcement she had been waiting for.

"Now," the host said, her voice bright and cheerful, amplified through the speakers, "we are pleased to announce the students who have been selected for our prestigious placement program. These first year students have demonstrated exceptional potential and will be given the opportunity to intern with our corporate partners starting next semester."

The audience murmured with excitement. Parents leaned forward in their seats. Students held their breath.

The host began reading names, department by department. Engineering. Business. Humanities. Sciences.

Bella waited.

"Computer Science," the host said.

Bella’s jaw tightened. Her hands curled into fists in her lap.