"...How is she now?" Leonardo asked again, this time his voice a little lower, a little tighter.
The maid, still standing nearby, quickly replied, "She’s fine now, Master. The doctor said it was a mild fever caused by exhaustion and stress. Her temperature has gone down, but she’s still weak. He advised full rest."
Leonardo gave a small nod and then flicked his fingers gently, signaling her to leave.
She bowed her head and stepped out quietly, closing the door behind her.
The room returned to silence.
Leonardo turned and walked slowly toward the bed, his footsteps soft against the carpet. The closer he got, the clearer he saw her face—flushed from fever but no longer burning. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her lips parted just a little as she breathed. She still clutched her plush bunny to her chest like it was a shield.
Just as he reached the edge of the bed—
Her eyes suddenly opened.
Wide. Alert. Slightly glassy from sleep but awake.
She blinked at him, startled, then immediately tightened her grip on the bunny.
"D-Don’t take my Berry..." she said quickly, her voice small and defensive, her eyes narrowing in suspicion like a little guard dog protecting her territory.
Leonardo stared at her.
Speechless.
He hadn’t even touched the toy.
And here she was bedridden, pale, clearly recovering from a nightmare or a fever and the first thing she said was a warning not to steal her stuffed bunny?
Was this girl serious?
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
He had come here to check on her well-being. To maybe even ask if she was okay. But now...
Since she clearly thought he had nothing better to do than bully her plushie—
He didn’t mind playing along.
He reached toward the edge of the bunny’s ear, letting two fingers brush the soft fabric with deliberate slowness.
"Oh?" he said flatly, "So this one’s Berry, huh..."
Isabella’s eyes widened in horror. "Don’t touch him!"
Leonardo’s lip twitched, amused despite himself.
Leonardo raised an eyebrow, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a serious tone that made her blink.
"You know..." he began, tone low and flat, "I’ve burned plush toys before."
Her eyes went wide.
Leonardo casually rolled up his sleeves. "One time? A guard’s kid left a talking teddy bear on my car. It said ’I love you’ three times and winked at me." He paused. "It didn’t survive the next ten seconds."
"Y-You monster!" Isabella squeaked, pulling Berry fully under the blanket now like she was protecting a child.
"I haven’t even started yet," Leonardo said, deadpan. "If Berry ever dares challenge my authority again... I’ll hang him upside down from the chandelier. Right above your bed."
"Y-You can’t!" she shouted, sitting up in horror.
Just as Leonardo reached the door, a sharp buzz came from his phone.
He paused, frowning as he glanced at the screen.
The caller ID flashed in bold letters—one of his most trusted men. A call at this hour wasn’t for small talk.
Without a word, Leonardo’s expression turned serious. His teasing mood evaporated in an instant.
He swiftly stepped out of Isabella’s room, shutting the door gently behind him. As he pressed the phone to his ear, he gestured sharply to a maid who was waiting outside.
She froze.
"Go inside," he said quietly, his voice low and firm. "Stay with her. Don’t leave until I return."
The maid nodded quickly, her eyes wide, and hurried into Isabella’s room as Leonardo walked down the hallway, already speaking into the phone.
As the door closed behind Leonardo, Isabella let out a soft sigh of relief, her shoulders finally relaxing. She dropped back onto the bed, clutching Berry to her chest, her cheeks still a little flushed from anger.
The door opened gently, and the maid returned, stepping inside with quiet, careful steps.
"Miss Isabella," she said softly, walking toward the bed, "please rest now. If you need anything, I’m just outside."
Isabella gave a small smile and shook her head. "I’m okay now. Really. You don’t need to stay. I don’t want to disturb anyone..."
The maid hesitated, glancing toward the door. "But... Master instructed me to stay with you."
Isabella blinked, then let out a tiny sigh. "Of course, he did..."
She sat up a little and smiled kindly. "It’s alright. If he says anything, just tell him I said it’s fine. I don’t want anyone running around because of me."
The maid looked unsure, shifting slightly on her feet.
But Isabella only smiled brighter, her voice gentle. "Please. I’m used to being alone when I’m sick. I promise I’ll call you if I need help."
There was something in the way she said it—not sad, just sincere.
The maid slowly nodded, still reluctant, and whispered, "Alright... but only if you promise to call me if you feel dizzy again."
"I promise," Isabella said softly.
And as the door closed again behind the maid, Isabella leaned back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling with a soft expression on her face.
She wasn’t used to being watched over.
Feeling a little stronger after resting, Isabella slowly sat up and reached for her laptop. Her body still ached faintly, but the worst had passed. Her fingers traced the cool surface of the device, and a small spark of comfort lit inside her—her world, her escape.
She opened the lid, and the screen flickered to life.
Low battery.
Of course.
With a soft chuckle, she reached over the side of her bed, grabbed the charger, and plugged it in. As soon as the laptop powered up fully, she moved her fingers across the keys with natural ease and logged into Hackervese.com.
And the moment her ID lit up online—Bellatrix_019—her inbox exploded.
Ding. Ding. Ding-ding-ding.
Messages flooded in like a digital wave.
"You’re back?? Finally!"
"Bellatrix!! I thought you got recruited by the government or something."
"GIRL, WHERE WERE YOU?? We had chaos without you."
"You still owe me a server patch."
"Wanna take a bank breach job? High payout."
Isabella blinked at the screen, overwhelmed for a second... then smiled.
They missed her.
Her fingers danced across the keyboard as she started replying, excitement quietly building in her chest. It felt nice—to be needed, to be respected, to be a legend in a world where no one knew her.
Here, she was brilliant.
Here... she wasn’t just Isabella.
She was Bellatrix_019—the girl who could break firewalls with one hand and fix corporate breaches with the other.
And tonight, she was back.
As Isabella replied to a few messages, her inbox kept buzzing. Her closest hacker friends were already flooding her with enthusiastic texts and playful teasing.
@SyntaxQueen: "Come on, Bella! You ghosted us for weeks. Let’s at least meet—voice call? Or coffee?"
@BlackKnight: "I’ll bring snacks and a VPN. We won’t even talk about hacking. Just vibes."
@_F4ngs: "We found a safe café. No names, no photos, just chill. You’ll love it."
Isabella smiled softly, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. They were kind... always had been. She trusted them more than anyone in the real world. But the idea of meeting in person made her chest tighten.
Her fingers began typing slowly.
Bellatrix_019: "You guys are the sweetest, but... no. I’m sorry. I can’t."
The typing indicators popped up immediately.
@SyntaxQueen: "Aww, why? Are you okay?"
@BlackKnight: "Is someone watching you? Just blink in binary."
@_F4ngs:: "Let her breathe, guys."
Isabella let out a soft laugh at that last one. Then she typed again.
Bellatrix_019: "I’m okay. Just... not ready. I like talking here. This is my space. I feel safe here."
They didn’t pressure her after that.
They understood.
Because for Isabella, the online world was the only place where no one looked at her scars, her past, or her fears. Where no one questioned why she flinched at touch or avoided mirrors.
The screen kept lighting up, lines of messages scrolling rapidly across Isabella’s dashboard as her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
@SyntaxQueen: "Are you up for a new job?! Zerg Game Studio’s app has a weird bug. It’s been crashing for 9 hours straight and no one’s been able to fix it. Wanna give it a shot, Bella?"
@_F4ngs: "Yeah, it’s seriously cursed. I poked around the backend, tried five different patches—nothing worked. Maybe your magic touch can figure it out?"
@BlackKnight: "Here’s the access log and sandbox server. They’re practically begging for help now."
A zip folder link popped up.
Isabella leaned forward, her brows furrowing slightly.
"Hmm..." she whispered, eyes scanning the data as she clicked the zipped file open. "A bug no one could fix?"
A challenge.
She smiled. That was her favorite kind.
She cracked her knuckles lightly and typed:
@Bellatrix_019: "I’m on it. Let’s see what’s scaring all of you today."
And with that, she dove into the code—calm, focused, her fingers gliding across the keyboard like she was dancing.
Her brown eyes narrowed slightly, scanning line after line of the messy backend code. Something about it was off—like a thread tangled just beneath the surface.
She bit her lower lip in concentration, a habit she’d always done when something intrigued her. There was no hesitation in her posture now. Just stillness... and focus.
That soft, sweet girl with plushies and strawberry cookies? She was still there.
But right now, this was Bellatrix_019—
Calm. Confident. Dangerous in silence.
Her eyes gleamed with determination as she dove deeper, ready to do what no one else could.
Find the flaw.
Break it down.
And fix it—like magic.