His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 505 - 504

Bella watched the elevator doors slide open just as Rika stepped inside, the hem of her dark coat whispering against the silver frame.

"Rika!" The name was out before Bella could think.

Rika paused, turning her head just enough to cast a glance over her shoulder. Bella hurried forward, slipping into the elevator just before the doors sealed shut with a soft sigh. Only then did she notice Jason tucked into the corner, hands in his pockets, wearing his usual grin.

"You forgot this," Bella said softly, holding out the sleek black bag as the elevator began its descent, a gentle piano melody trickling from a hidden speaker.

Rika blinked slowly, then took the bag. "Oh," she murmured, her voice low. "Thank you."

Jason’s eyes darted between them with curiosity. "Isaac," he said cheerfully, nodding at Bella, then glancing at the unfamiliar woman. "Uh... hello?"

Rika didn’t look at him. Her gaze stayed fixed on Bella, sharp, analytical, utterly unreadable, as if she were solving a complex equation written on Bella’s face. Heat prickled up Bella’s neck. She looked away, flustered.

Why is she looking at me like that?

The elevator jolted violently.

The piano melody died mid-note.

The lights flickered once, twice, plunging them into total, suffocating darkness.

"OKAY, WE’RE DEAD!" Jason’s voice exploded in the tiny space. "That’s it! Game over! We’re stuck. Actually, physically, metaphysically stuck. Do you hear that? That’s the sound of destiny laughing at us!"

Bella’s heart hammered against her ribs, but she held still, fingers curling tight. "Jason, relax. Elevators have safety systems. We’re fine."

"Fine? Fine?!" he squeaked. "Bella, I’ve seen this episode! First, the dark. Then, the weird scraping noises from the shaft. Then the air gets thin and we start hallucinating that we’re at a beach party, and then BAM, the cables snap and we become a human pancake layer cake! We’ll be found in a week, and they’ll have to identify us by our dental records! I didn’t even floss today!"

He was practically vibrating with catastrophic imagination. "What if the emergency button is a fake? What if it just plays a sad trombone sound? What if we’re not between floors, but we’ve actually slipped into a dimensional pocket and this elevator is now our eternal tomb? I don’t have enough snacks for eternity!"

"Shut up."

Rika’s voice sliced through the panic, cold and absolute.

She moved forward in the dark as if it were daylight, her steps sure and silent. Bella could just make out her shape as she reached the control panel. A firm press, and a small red emergency light bathed Rika’s profile in a stark, ghostly glow, highlighting the icy calm on her face.

"We are not dying," she stated, her tone flat and final. "Stop screaming. You are scaring the oxygen molecules."

A low hum vibrated through the car as the emergency signal connected. In the sudden, heavy quiet, Jason’s frantic breathing was the loudest sound.

Bella swallowed as the faint red light reflected in Rika’s unblinking eyes.

The elevator gave another violent, metallic shudder, a deep groan that seemed to come from the very bones of the building.

Jason let out a high-pitched yelp. "That was a death rattle! It’s the building saying goodbye! I knew it! I didn’t even complete my bucket list! I never learned to juggle! I never told Mrs. Henderson her poodle looks like a mop with a nervous disorder! I’m going to die regretful and unjuggled!" he wailed, pressing himself against the wall as if he could merge with it.

Bella took a deep, steadying breath that did nothing to steady her own nerves. Moving through the oppressive dark, she found Jason’s trembling arm and pulled him into a firm, grounding hug. He was practically vibrating. "It’s okay... it’s okay, Jason. Don’t be scared. It’s just shaking. It’s going to be fine," she murmured, her voice a soft counterpoint to his panic.

Rika watched this unfold from her spot by the panel, the red emergency light carving her expression into a mask of profound, unimpressed stillness. She didn’t roll her eyes; the gesture would have been wasted in the dark, but her entire posture conveyed the sentiment.

When Jason buried his face in Bella’s shoulder with another muffled sob about "unfinished business," Rika finally spoke. Her voice was dry and clear.

"Jason."

He hiccupped. "W-what?"

"If you do not stop screaming," she said, each word measured and cool, "I will manually override the emergency brake and drop us three floors on purpose."

The silence that followed was instant and absolute. Even the elevator’s creaking seemed to halt.

Jason froze in Bella’s arms. "You... you can do that?"

"No," Rika stated flatly. "But you believed I could for three seconds. That was three seconds of quiet. It was nice."

She turned her head, the red light glinting in her eyes as she looked not at Jason, but past him, listening. "The backup generator just engaged. We will be moving in approximately forty-seven seconds."

Her utter certainty was more unnerving than the darkness. Bella felt Jason go rigid, his fear momentarily eclipsed by bewildered shock. Rika had somehow weaponized logic against his chaos, and for the moment, it was the only thing that had worked.

The elevator gave one final, meek shudder, and with a smooth hum, the lights flickered back to life. The gentle piano music started again, as if nothing had ever happened.

Jason slowly peeled himself away from Bella, staring at Rika with a look of utter betrayal. "You... you lied about the manual override?"

Rika didn’t smile. She merely adjusted the cuff of her coat, her gaze already drifting toward the descending floor numbers. "I managed your panic. The method is irrelevant."

The doors dinged, sliding open on the bright, normal lobby. Jason stumbled out first, looking as if he’d been emotionally put through a spin cycle.

Bella followed Jason out, her own legs feeling a little unsteady. She couldn’t bring herself to step back into the polished metal box.

A man in a maintenance uniform was already hurrying toward them, a radio crackling in his hand, his face a mask of professional apology.

"Sorry, folks, sorry about that," he said, his voice tinged with genuine stress. "A sudden, localized grid fluctuation on the lower levels. Some genius contractor doing unapproved load-testing on the backup generators. Sent a surge right through the building’s nervous system. It’s been stabilized. Elevator’s perfectly safe now, I promise."