CHAPTER 23: CHAPTER 23 NO JOKES WITH MY BUNNY. GOT IT?

Isabella stared at the screen, her fingers frozen mid-air as new job offers popped into her inbox one after another.

"Patch this bug in Bank X’s new firewall. We may or may not have created it."

"Security breach in a major crypto exchange. Totally unrelated to us, but... maybe check it?"

"This company thinks their system is unbreakable. We disagree. Please fix the hole we left."

She blinked.

Once. Twice.

Then sat back slowly on the sofa, clutching her bunny plushie like it could explain what was happening.

"They... made the loopholes?" she muttered under her breath. "Just so I’d have high-paying jobs...?"

One job after another—big-name banks, international systems, and private security firms—all offering insane pay... and every one of them mysteriously broken just enough to need her skills.

She squinted at the messages again.

They even added cheerful notes.

@SyntaxQueen:

I made the firewall cry just a little. Please go hug it.

@BlackKnight:

Think of it like this—we break it, you fix it. Equal teamwork!

@K4ne404:

It’s not sabotage if it’s for a good cause. Like your lunch money.

Isabella slapped her forehead gently with her palm.

"They’re so silly..." she whispered with a tiny smile.

And yet her heart felt full.

They weren’t just giving her charity. They were still letting her earn it...her way. They knew her pride, her love for learning, and the thrill of building what others thought was broken.

So she opened her coding window, cracked her knuckles, and whispered softly to her laptop:

"Let’s go fix the world. One ’accidental’ disaster at a time."

And just like that, she got to work half amused, half grateful, and completely unstoppable.

***

9:30 PM

The luxurious black Mercedes rolled to a stop just outside the private iron gates of Leonardo Moretti’s villa..an estate known among the elite as Villa Noctis.

The driver quickly stepped out and opened the back door.

Leonardo emerged.

Dressed in a fitted black shirt and matching trousers, his jacket draped over one arm, he looked calm on the outside—but his long, purposeful strides carried the quiet storm that always followed him.

The villa’s entrance doors opened before he even reached them.

"Welcome home, Sir," the maids greeted him softly, bowing slightly.

At the center of the hallway stood Aunt Clara..the butler of the estate and a no-nonsense woman with grey-streaked hair tied in a neat bun. She straightened her uniform and bowed slightly. "Good evening, Master Leonardo."

His gray eyes scanned the space, already sharp. Something felt too quiet. His brow twitched slightly.

"Where is Mom?" he asked, voice low but clear.

Aunt Clara clasped her hands. "Madam left this afternoon, sir. She received an urgent call. Something about the estate in Florence. She didn’t say much."

Leonardo nodded once, already moving.

"And where is she?" he asked again...this time colder.

Clara blinked, confused. "She?"

Then she realized.

"Oh! You mean... Mrs. Isabella."

One of the maids stepped forward, wringing her hands. "Sir, after she returned from shopping... she locked herself in her room for the rest of the day. We knocked several times around dinner, but there was no answer."

Leonardo didn’t reply.

He simply turned, his expression unreadable, and began walking upstairs with long strides, his footsteps quiet but heavy enough to silence the hallway.

The staff exchanged looks.

Aunt Clara exhaled deeply the moment he disappeared up the staircase.

"Goodness," she muttered under her breath, placing a hand over her chest. "Master Leonardo’s aura today... is like a storm waiting to strike."

Leonardo walked up the stairs to the third floor, his steps steady, controlled—his mind already circling around several questions.

What exactly has she been doing all day? He hadn’t seen her downstairs. She hadn’t answered when the maids called. He hadn’t received a single message.

And after three transactions—one for a laptop worth a fortune, the other for... stuffed toys...he wanted answers.

When he reached the bedroom door, he noticed it was locked.

From the inside.

He raised a brow, lips tightening slightly.

But of course, it wasn’t a problem.

There was a small scanner by the door—a fingerprint security system only accessible by him. He placed his thumb against it. With a soft beep and a click, the lock released.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside quietly.

The lights were dim, the room filled with a calm silence. He walked toward the center, toward the black sofa—

And paused. His steps slowed.

There she was.

Curled up on the black velvet sofa like a sleepy bunny, her legs tucked in, arms wrapped tightly around a giant pink unicorn and a strawberry bunny pillow. Her cheek was resting gently on the unicorn’s neck, and her brown hair spilled over her shoulder in soft waves.

And she was smiling in her sleep.

Peacefully. As if she hadn’t spent thousands of dollars from his bank account.

Leonardo’s gaze flicked sharply to the side And there it was.

Her new laptop. Sitting on the table.

That laptop. The one with the ridiculous price tag.

Leonardo stood still, silent as stone, watching the strange little creature sleeping on his expensive sofa.

Then she shifted slightly, hugging the unicorn tighter, her nose twitching like a sleepy bunny... and mumbled somthing..

"I want ice cream... please don’t take my ice cream, you devil..."

Leonardo blinked.

His expression didn’t move.

But inside?

Devil...? Is she talking about me?

His jaw flexed once. He stared at her, this tiny girl buried in pastel plushies, mumbling nonsense like she was in a candy dream.

Leonardo, with the quiet menace of someone far too used to getting answers without asking twice, reached down... and slowly took the strawberry bunny plushie from her arms.

The moment it left her grasp—

Isabella’s eyes snapped open.

Wide. Alert. Defensive.

Her sleep-fogged brain instantly rebooted.

She sat up with a small gasp, her eyes locking onto him, then onto the poor bunny hostage in his hand. Leonardo stood tall above her, holding the plushie between two fingers like it was something suspicious he might interrogate.

"It’s mine..." she muttered, voice hoarse from sleep, cheeks flushed with heat and shock. Her hands instinctively reached forward protectively.

Leonardo raised an eyebrow, turning the bunny over once as if assessing its price tag—or considering where it fit on a threat scale.

"From my money," he said coolly, his voice low, that ever-present touch of ice in his tone.

Isabella blinked at him, stunned.

Then her brows furrowed.

She stood up fast, tiny but fierce, her white dress swaying around her knees. Her hair was slightly messy, and her cheeks were still pink from sleep, but her eyes were blazing now like a kitten ready to claw.

"I will pay you back!" she snapped, reaching for the plushie.

"No jokes with my bunny. Got it?" she added, holding her hand out, dead serious.

Leonardo stared at her.

This little thing...who cried for ice cream in her dreams was now glaring at him over a stuffed strawberry pillow.

And the worst part was she looked absolutely serious.