His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 672 First day of collage (2)

"Mira," Bella said gently. "What was that about?"

Mira pushed her glasses up her nose, her fingers trembling. "He’s my friend. He’s just... protective."

"Protective?"

"He thinks someone is taking advantage of me." Mira’s voice was quiet. "But he’s wrong. She’s my friend. She’s just... intense."

Bella’s eyes narrowed. "She?"

Mira shook her head. "It’s nothing. Really."

Bella wanted to push, wanted to ask more, but Mira’s face was closed off, her walls up.

"If you ever need to talk," Bella said softly, "I’m here."

Mira looked at her, something flickering in her eyes. "Thank you, Isabella."

"Bella," she corrected. "My friends call me Bella."

Mira smiled, small but genuine. "Bella."

They stood together in the morning light, the campus humming around them, and Bella made a mental note to find out more about this mysterious "she" who was hurting Mira. But for now, she let it go.

She had a class to get to.

Bella walked into the lecture hall, her heart still beating a little faster than usual. The room was large, with rows of desks sloping downward toward a massive whiteboard at the front. Students were scattered across the seats, some chatting, some on their phones, some already pulling out notebooks and laptops.

She checked her phone one more time. Room 104. West wing. Second floor. This was the right place.

She looked up, scanning the room for an empty seat.

And then she froze.

Near the middle of the room, sitting side by side with a backpack placed carefully between them, were Mira and Karl.

Mira was hunched over her notebook, her glasses slipping down her nose, her pen moving quickly across the page. Karl sat beside her, his long legs stretched out under the desk, his dark eyes fixed on his phone. His fluffy hair was even messier than before, like he had been running his hands through it all morning.

They hadn’t noticed her yet.

Bella blinked. Then blinked again.

Of all the lecture halls, of all the class times, of all the seats in this massive room, they were here. In her class.

She thought about the encounter outside. Karl shouting. Mira shrinking. The strange tension between them that she couldn’t quite understand. And now here they were, sitting side by side, close enough that their elbows almost touched.

Bella took a breath and walked toward them.

She didn’t know why she was nervous. They were just classmates. Mira was her friend. Had called her friend, had smiled at her, had stood with her in the morning light. Karl was... Karl. Beautiful and angry and clearly hiding something.

But still, her heart was pounding.

She stopped at the end of their row, her bag clutched to her chest.

"Hi," she said.

Mira looked up, her eyes widening behind her glasses. "Bella!"

Karl’s head snapped up. His dark eyes found hers, and something flickered across his face: surprise, maybe, or something else. He straightened in his seat, his posture shifting.

"You’re in this class?" Mira asked, pushing her glasses up.

"I guess I am." Bella smiled, trying to ignore the way Karl was staring at her. "Is this seat taken?"

She pointed to the empty desk on Mira’s other side.

Mira shook her head quickly. "No. It’s free. Sit."

Bella slid into the seat, setting her bag on the floor beside her. The desk was small, the wood scratched and worn.

She pulled out her notebook and pen, her hands steady despite the flutter in her chest.

"I didn’t know you were in this class," Mira said, her voice warm.

"I didn’t either." Bella glanced at Karl. He was watching her, his dark eyes unreadable. "I didn’t know you two were in this class together."

Mira’s cheeks flushed. "We have most of our classes together. We’re in the same program."

"Same program," Bella repeated.

"Computer science," Karl said, his voice quiet.

Bella’s eyebrows rose. "Me too."

The silence stretched. Karl’s gaze stayed on her face. Mira looked between them, her fingers twisting her pen.

"Small world," Mira said.

Bella laughed, the tension breaking. "Small world."

The professor walked in then, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a stack of papers in her arms. The room quieted, students shuffling in their seats, phones disappearing into bags.

Bella turned to face the front, her notebook open, her pen ready. The professor stood at the podium, a middle-aged woman with sharp gray eyes and silver-streaked hair pulled back in a tight bun. She wore a tailored blazer and a frown that seemed permanently etched into her face.

She was the kind of woman who had seen everything, who had taught for decades, who could silence a room with a single glance.

And right now, that glance was fixed on Bella.

"New student," the professor said, her voice sharp, cutting through the quiet. "Please come to the front and introduce yourself."

Bella’s heart stopped.

Every head in the room turned toward her. Dozens of eyes, curious, bored, indifferent, landed on her face. She felt her cheeks flush, her palms grow damp, her throat tighten.

She hadn’t prepared for this.

She had prepared for the material, for the lectures, for the assignments. She had studied the syllabus, read the required Chapters, even looked up the professor’s publications. But she hadn’t prepared for introductions.

Mira glanced at her, her eyes wide behind her glasses. Karl was watching too, his dark gaze unreadable.

Bella took a breath. Then another.

She stood up, her legs shaky, and walked to the front of the room.

The professor stepped aside, gesturing to the space beside the podium. Bella stood there, facing the class, her hands clasped in front of her. The whiteboard behind her was covered in equations. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence.

"My name is Isabella Moretti," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "But I go by Bella."

She paused, waiting for someone to laugh, to whisper, to do something. No one did.

"I’m in the advanced computer science track. I transferred in late, so I’m still catching up, but I’m excited to be here." She glanced at the professor, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. "I look forward to learning from all of you."

The silence stretched.

Then, somewhere in the back of the room, someone clapped.

Bella’s eyes found the source: a boy with dark skin and a bright smile, his hand raised in applause. He nodded at her, encouraging.

Others joined in, scattered and hesitant at first, then growing. By the time the clapping faded, Bella’s cheeks were flushed, but she was smiling.

"Thank you, Miss Moretti," the professor said, her voice still sharp but not unkind. "You may take your seat."

Bella walked back to her desk, her heart pounding. She slid into her seat, her hands trembling.

Mira leaned over, her voice a whisper. "You did great."

"Thanks."

Karl didn’t say anything. But when she glanced at him, he was looking at her with something new in his eyes: respect, maybe, or curiosity.

Bella turned to face the front.

The professor began the lecture, her voice filling the room, and Bella let herself breathe.