His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 788 Quite

Geoffrey stood by the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture perfect. He was older, maybe sixty, with gray hair that was neatly combed and a short, well-trimmed beard. His eyes were kind, his smile gentle, and he wore a simple sweater and dark trousers that looked comfortable but neat.

"Geoffrey has been with the family for decades," Jason said. "He practically raised me."

Geoffrey inclined his head. "You were unraisable, sir."

Jason clutched his chest in a mock offense. "Wounded."

"Would you like to show your guests to their rooms, sir?"

Jason sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine." He gestured for everyone to follow. "This way."

He led them down a long hallway, his footsteps soft on the wooden floor. The walls were lined with more photographs, landscapes mostly and a few paintings of flowers that looked like they had been painted by someone who loved them very much. Doors opened onto bedrooms, each one different from the last.

The first room had a four-poster bed with a quilt stitched in blues and greens that matched the sea, and a vase of fresh wildflowers sat on the windowsill, their petals still wet from the rain.

The second room was smaller, with an iron bed frame and a soft wool blanket folded at the foot. A bookshelf held old paperbacks, their spines cracked from use and a small desk sat under the window overlooking the garden.

The third room had a window seat overlooking the garden, with cushions in faded yellow and a view of the rain falling softly on the strawberry patch. Dominique pointed at it immediately.

"I call dibs," he said. "I’ve stayed in that room before."

Jason sighed. "You always stay in that room."

"Because it’s the best room."

"It’s the smallest room."

Dominique shook his head. "It has the best light."

"It has the smallest bed."

Dominique turned to Geoffrey. "Geoffrey, tell him."

Geoffrey inclined his head, a small smile on his weathered face. "The room with the window seat does indeed have the best light, sir."

Dominique beamed. "See?"

Jason sighed. "Fine. Take it."

Geoffrey pointed out the bathroom at the end of the hall, the closet with extra towels and the small kitchenette with a kettle for tea.

"Baths are being drawn," he said. "If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."

Everyone was wet and uncomfortable from the rain, their clothes damp and their hair clinging to their skin.

Bella looked at Leo. His shirt was damp, clinging to his skin in ways that showed the lines of his shoulders and chest. His hair was still wet, dripping onto his collar, and his expression was still dark, his jaw still tight. But his hand was warm when he took hers.

"Come on," she said softly. "Let’s get you dry."

He followed her into their room, a room with a large bed piled with quilts, a stone fireplace that already had a small fire crackling inside, and a window that faced the orchard where the rain was falling softly on the apple trees. The light was gray and soft, muted like the world had been wrapped in a gentle blanket.

The door closed behind them, and Leo’s shoulders finally relaxed.

They changed into dry clothes. Leo wore a simple black sweater that hugged his arms and chest, his hair still damp, darker than usual, falling across his forehead in soft waves. Bella wore an oversized cream-colored sweater that swallowed her whole with sleeves that fell past her wrists and a hem that reached her thighs. The sweater was furry, almost fuzzy like a cloud had decided to become clothing.

They sat on the edge of the bed.

The room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire and the gentle patter of rain against the window. The flames cast flickering shadows on the walls, warm and golden, and through the window, the apple trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches heavy with rain.

Leo pulled her close. His arms wrapped around her waist, and she leaned back against his chest, her body fitting against his like she had been made to be there. The furry sweater was impossibly soft under his hands.

"Bella," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

She was looking out the window, at the rain, at the trees, at the soft gray light that made everything feel slow and cozy. "Hmm?"

"You’re not paying attention to me," he muttered against her skin.

"I’m paying attention to the rain."

"The rain is not more important than me."

She turned her head, her brown eyes meeting his gray ones. "The rain is very peaceful."

Leo’s voice was quiet, almost pouty. "I can be peaceful."

Bella raised an eyebrow. "You’re never peaceful."

"I can try."

She laughed at this, a soft warm sound, and kissed his jaw. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

She leaned back against his chest, and his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer.

"I like this," she whispered.

"What?"

She looked around the room. At the fire crackling in the hearth, the quilts piled high on the bed, the rain falling softly on the orchard outside. At the warm golden light, the soft shadows, and the peaceful quiet.

"Here," she said. "This room. This bed. This rain." She paused, tilting her head back to look at his face. "You."

Leo’s heart swelled with love. He kissed the top of her head and held her close, his chin resting on her hair.

They sat like that for a long time, watching the rain fall on the orchard, the fire warming their faces, the world outside fading away.

But to Leo, this peace felt like the calm before a storm. Like the quiet moment before something broke.

He held her tighter and did not say a word.

Then—

"Both of you! Bella Bell! Leo! Are you asleep or coming down?"

Dominique’s voice boomed through the hallway, loud and impatient. He was pounding on the door now, his fist thumping against the wood.

"Jason has prepared warm food and tea for us!"

Bella jumped. Leo’s arms tightened around her, and he muttered something under his breath in Italian. She could not understand the words, but she understood the tone.

Annoyance.

"Coming!" Bella called out.

Dominique’s footsteps retreated down the hallway.

Leo sighed. "I liked the quiet."