Bella followed her into a lounge area furnished with leather chairs, a low glass table, and neatly arranged magazines. A faint hum of conversation from other visitors floated in the background, though no one paid her much attention. She sank into one of the seats, her heartbeat still quick, and glanced at her reflection in the surface of the table.
Soon, the sound of footsteps approached the lounge. Bella lifted her gaze just as a man appeared—a lean figure in a sharp suit, his dark hair combed neatly, and a composed air about him. His expression was polite at first, but when his eyes landed on Bella, they widened noticeably.
For the briefest second, he looked stunned, almost disbelieving. He had clearly expected someone older, perhaps the shadowy figure of a reclusive hacker with gray hair and worn hands—not the strikingly young man sitting before him. His lips parted, then curved into an almost reverent smile.
