His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 616 How?

Bella laughed, but it faded quickly. "Nonna is busy, Jay."

Jay’s grin softened into something more gentle. He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. You don’t need Nonna. You have something better." He squeezed gently. "You have him. For real this time. The real Leo, not the ice version. He’ll come around. He always does. It just takes him a minute to remember he’s not actually made of ice."

Bella looked up at him. "You think so?"

"I know so." Jay smiled. "That man is so gone for you it’s almost pathetic. Give him a day or two. He’ll crack."

Bella nodded slowly, some of the weight lifting.

"Thanks, Jay Jay."

"Anytime, Bella Bell." He winked. "Now go do something annoying to remind him you exist. I recommend stealing his favorite pen."

Bella laughed at that.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Bella understood Leo.

She knew that beneath the cold shoulder, beneath the silence and the distance, he still cared. He’d proven it, carrying her to bed when she’d fallen asleep on the floor.

He loved her. She never doubted that.

But love wasn’t the issue.

The issue was this, his way of handling hurt. Shutting down. Freezing her out. Building walls instead of talking.

And Bella realized something important: she didn’t want to just wait for him to thaw. She didn’t want to tiptoe around his silences forever, hoping he’d eventually decide she was worth speaking to again.

She wanted him to understand that being emotionally closed off didn’t help. Didn’t fix anything. Just pushed away the person who loved him.

But she didn’t want to make him understand in a bad way. No yelling. No ultimatums. No fighting fire with fire.

She wanted him to see.

The question was, how? Miss J’s words echoed in her mind.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Currently, Leo was in his office. Probably buried in work, using it as a distraction. Probably not thinking about her at all. Or thinking about her too much and pretending he wasn’t.

Bella sat in the living room, laptop open on her lap, staring at the screen without really seeing it.

Her email inbox was open.

A new message sat at the top, sender: University Admissions.

Subject: Placement Exam Confirmation

She clicked it open.

Dear Mrs. Moretti,

We are pleased to confirm your placement exam scheduled for next Wednesday at 10:00 AM. Please arrive at the Testing Center (Building C, Room 205) at least 15 minutes early. Bring your student ID and a form of identification.

We look forward to welcoming you to campus.

Best regards,

Dr. Reynolds

Bella stared at the words.

Next Wednesday. One week away.

A new Chapter. A new part of her life. Something that was just hers, not Leo’s wife, not a Moretti, just Isabella, the student.

She thought about Leo. About how he’d been the one to take her there, to make it happen, even while giving her the cold shoulder. He’d sat in that office, silent and distant, but he’d been there. He’d made sure she got the best treatment, the fastest enrollment, the placement exam opportunity.

He cared. He always cared.

But she needed more than silent care.

She needed him to talk to her.

One day later.

Bella didn’t confront Leo. Didn’t demand he talk to her. Didn’t cry or plead or push.

Instead, she did something quieter. Something that would take time.

She started leaving small things.

The first morning, she made coffee, his favorite blend, the way he liked it. She carried the mug to his office and set it on the corner of his desk, within easy reach. He was on a call, his back to her, speaking in low Italian to someone on the other end. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t acknowledge her.

But when she glanced back from the doorway, she saw his hand reach for the mug.

That was enough.

At lunch, she didn’t interrupt his meetings. She simply asked the cook to prepare his favorite meal, the one with the sauce his grandmother used to make. She had it plated beautifully and left it in the dining room with a note.

In case you’re hungry. — B

She ate alone in the kitchen, pushing food around her plate, listening for any sound of him. When she went to clear the dishes later, the plate was empty. The note was gone.

Her heart squeezed.

In the afternoon, she went to the garden. The place where she’d first started to feel at home in this massive house. She picked flowers, not the expensive arrangements from the greenhouse, but the simple ones growing wild near the edge. Daisies. Tiny purple blooms. A few sprigs of lavender.

She arranged them in a small vase and placed it on his desk, right next to the lamp where he’d see it when he worked late.

No note this time. Just flowers.

That evening, she sat in the living room with a book she wasn’t really reading. She heard his footsteps in the hallway. Heard him pause at the doorway. Felt his gaze on her for just a moment.

Then the footsteps continued toward the office.

She didn’t look up. Didn’t chase.

But she smiled into her book.

The second day, she did the same. Coffee in the morning. Lunch left in the dining room. Flowers on his desk, different ones this time, small yellow blooms she’d found near the fountain.

She didn’t try to talk to him. Didn’t seek him out. Just existed in his orbit, quietly, patiently, leaving evidence of her presence like breadcrumbs through the house.

Third day.

She was in the kitchen, pouring herself tea, when she heard footsteps behind her. Slow and powerful. She knew them by heart.

She didn’t turn around.

He stopped in the doorway. Didn’t come closer. Just stood there.

The silence stretched.

Bella finished making her sweet rose tea. Took a slow sip. Still didn’t turn.

Then—

"The flowers."

His voice was rough and low from days of disuse.

Bella’s hand tightened on the mug.

"They’re dying," he said. "You need to change the water."

She turned then.

He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, still in his suit from work. His hair was slightly disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.

He looked exhausted.

He looked like he missed her.

Bella’s heart ached.

"I know," she said softly. "I was going to do it after tea."

He nodded once. Didn’t move.

Another silence. Different this time. Not cold. Just careful.

"Jay told me about the pen," Bella said.

Leo’s eyebrow twitched. "Of course he did."

"When you were fifteen."

A long pause. Then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth moved. "I liked that pen."

"I know."

More silence. But the ice was cracking.

Bella set down her tea and walked toward him. Slowly. Giving him time to leave if he wanted.

He didn’t move.

She stopped a foot away. Close enough to feel his warmth. Close enough to see the conflict in his gray eyes.