His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 669 Liar

Leo pressed the call button and handed the phone back.

Bella’s eyes widened. The phone was ringing. She pressed it to her ear, her heart pounding.

"Hello?" Miss J’s voice was warm, familiar, like a hug.

"Miss J?" Bella’s voice came out smaller than she intended. "It’s Isabella. Bella. From the exhibition. I hope I’m not interrupting—"

"Bella!" Miss J’s voice brightened. "I was just thinking about you. How are you, sweetheart?"

Bella’s eyes filled with tears. Again, always with the tears lately. "I’m good. I’m really good. I wanted to tell you—I took a placement exam. For college. And I—" She swallowed. "I scored perfect marks."

The silence on the other end lasted only a second, but it felt like forever.

"Perfect marks?" Miss J’s voice was soft, almost reverent. "Bella, that’s extraordinary."

"I know it’s just a placement exam," Bella said quickly. "It’s not a big deal. I just thought—"

"It is a big deal," Miss J interrupted gently. "It’s a very big deal. And I am so, so proud of you."

Bella pressed her hand to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"You are?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"I am. You worked hard, didn’t you? You studied and prepared and gave it your all. And it paid off." Miss J’s voice was warm, motherly. "That’s something to celebrate, sweetheart."

Bella laughed through her tears. "Everyone keeps saying that," she said.

"Because it’s true," Miss J replied.

They talked for a while longer. About the exam, about the advanced track, about the classes that would start soon. Miss J asked questions, listened to the answers, laughed at Bella’s jokes. She didn’t seem annoyed. She didn’t seem bothered. She seemed happy. Happy to hear from Bella. Happy to share in her joy.

When they finally hung up, Bella set her phone down and looked at Leo.

"She was happy I called," Bella said.

"Of course she was," Leo replied.

"I was worried for nothing," Bella admitted.

Leo pulled her into his arms. "You worry too much," he said.

"I know," she mumbled against his chest.

"It’s okay." He kissed her forehead. "That’s who you are."

She closed her eyes, letting herself feel it.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

"You finally remember you have a mother?"

The voice came from the screen of Dominique’s laptop, sharp and elegant, with an edge that could cut glass. The woman on the other end of the video call was middle-aged, but time had been kind to her.

Her dark blue eyes were striking, the same shade as Dominique’s on certain days, framed by thick lashes that needed no mascara. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves, styled simply but beautifully. The kind of effortless elegance that came from good genes and better taste.

Her face was bare. No makeup, no lipstick, no concealer. And she was still stunning. High cheekbones, a straight nose, lips that curved in a way that could be warm or cold depending on her mood.

Right now, her mood was cold.

"No, no," Dominique said quickly, his hands raised in surrender. "How could I forget you? You’re my mom."

His mother, Kaelani, nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing. "Heh," she said.

Just that. One syllable. Dismissive. Skeptical.

Dominique shifted in his seat, his palms sweating. He had faced down photographers, hostile interviewers, even a few dangerous situations. But none of that compared to the quiet judgment of his mother.

"Tell me what you want me to do," Kaelani said, crossing her arms. "You haven’t called me in years. Years, Dominique. And now suddenly you’re calling? Something is suspicious."

"Nothing is suspicious," he said. "I just—I missed you."

"Liar," she said flatly.

"I did!" he insisted.

"You’re a terrible liar. You always have been. Your left eye twitches when you lie," Kaelani pointed out.

Dominique’s left eye twitched. He blinked rapidly, trying to hide it, but Kaelani’s gaze was too sharp.

"Mom—" he started.

"Tell me the truth, or I’m hanging up," she warned.

He took a breath. He had planned to ease into this. To ask about Hazel’s scar, to see if his mother might be willing to help. But his mother had never been someone you could ease into anything. She was a surgeon. She was precise. She cut straight to the point.

"Mom," he said, his voice quieter now. "Do you know someone attacked me?"

Kaelani’s expression shifted. The coldness flickered, replaced by something sharper. "What?" she asked.

"Someone from Umbra. They sent an assassin. A few weeks ago." He paused, letting the words sink in. "If my best friend hadn’t saved me, I would have died."

The silence on the other end was heavy. Kaelani’s face had gone pale, her hands gripping the arms of her chair.

"Your best friend," she said slowly. "Who is this best friend?"

"Hazel. Her name is Hazel." He leaned forward, his voice soft. "She’s... she’s important to me, Mom."

Kaelani studied his face, her dark blue eyes searching. Whatever she saw there made her expression soften, just slightly.

"Tell me everything," she said.

And he did.

He told her about the attack in the garden, about the red laser on his chest, about the way Hazel had shoved him to the ground and fired back. He told her about the investigation, about the connection to Umbra, about his cousin who still saw him as a threat.

He didn’t tell her about Hazel’s scar. Not yet.

Kaelani listened without interrupting, her face unreadable. When he finished, she was quiet for a long moment.

"Your cousin," she said finally. "I warned you about him."

"I know," Dominique admitted.

"I told you he would never stop," she reminded him.

"I know, Mom," he said.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "And this Hazel. She saved your life."

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Then I owe her a debt." Kaelani looked at him, her eyes sharp. "What do you need from me?"

Dominique hesitated. This was the moment. The reason he had called.

"Hazel has a scar," he said carefully. "On her face. It’s deep. The tissue is extensive. She’s consulted doctors all over the world, and they’ve all said the same thing. Surgery is too risky."

Kaelani’s expression didn’t change. "And?" she prompted.

"And I thought—" He swallowed. "I thought maybe you could help her."

The silence stretched.

"Mom, I know you don’t take many patients anymore. I know you’ve retired. But you’re the best. You’ve done things other surgeons said were impossible. And Hazel—" His voice cracked, just slightly. "She’s been told no so many times. She’s stopped hoping. But I haven’t. Not for her."

Kaelani studied him for a long moment. Her dark blue eyes were unreadable, but something in her posture had shifted.

"Send me her file," she said finally.

Dominique’s heart leaped. "Really?" he asked.

"Really. I’m not promising anything. I need to see the scans, the reports, the history. But I’ll look," she said.

"Thank you, Mom," he said, relief flooding his voice.

"Don’t thank me yet," she warned. Then her expression softened, just slightly. "And Dominique?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Call me more often," she said.

He smiled. "I will."

"Liar," she said, but her lips twitched.

"Mom," he protested.

She almost smiled back.

The call ended, and Dominique sat back in his chair, his heart pounding.