His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

Chapter 772 Show off

Hazel walked to the low table in the center of the room and set the pizza down with a soft thud. The box was warm, steam rising from the edges. Then she turned and went back to the kitchen, returning moments later with two bottles of soda and two glasses filled with ice.

She set them down beside the pizza.

"Happy now?" she said, putting her hands on her hips. "You’re the first one to try my cooking."

Dominique’s eyes widened. His mouth fell open. He looked from the pizza to Hazel, then back to the pizza.

"I’m... I’m the first?" His voice was high, almost squeaky.

"The first," she confirmed, a small smile playing on her lips.

Dominique’s face broke into a huge grin. His eyes sparkled. He grabbed his phone and held it up like he was documenting a historic event.

"I need photos of this," he said. "I need evidence. Documentation. Proof for future generations. My grandchildren will hear about this day."

Hazel rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop him.

Dominique snapped photo after photo. Close-ups of the cheese stretching golden and gooey. The pepperoni slightly crispy at the edges. The golden-brown crust dusted with a little flour. Wide shots of the whole pizza, the table, the bottles of soda. Artistic angles that made the cheese stretch between slices like tiny bridges.

He zoomed in on the extra cheese he had requested, the way it melted over the edges, thick and perfect. He took a picture of the steam rising, soft and blurry.

His mouth watered.

He wanted to devour everything.

But first, he opened the group chat: Leo, Jay, Jace, Bella, even Jason who was still traveling for his races.

Dominique: I am so shocked. So amazed. So humbled. Hazel just told me I am the FIRST person to taste her cooking. The first! In all of history!

He added five pizza photos, then drooling emojis, star emojis, and a gif of someone fainting in slow motion.

The responses came quickly.

Jason: That’s not pizza. That’s a work of art. I can almost smell it through the screen.

Jay: She cooked for YOU first? Not her own cousin brother? I see how it is.

Leo: .

Just a period. Dominique chose to interpret it as jealousy. Deep, burning jealousy.

Bella:It looks so good! Save me a slice! I want to try it.

Jace: The crust looks burnt on the left side.

Dominique:It’s not burnt. It’s caramelized. There’s a huge difference. You need to get your eyes checked, lil panda. Or maybe your taste buds.

Hazel stood across the room, watching him. Her arms were crossed. Her lips were pressed together. She looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Are you done?" she asked.

"Almost." Dominique typed one last message.

Dominique: Anyway. Just wanted to share this momentous occasion with all of you. You’re welcome. Try not to be too jealous.

He set his phone down and looked at Hazel.

"Okay," he said. "Now I’m done."

She shook her head, but she was smiling. Her eyes were warm. "You’re crazy."

"I’m appreciative. There’s a difference."

She sat down on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. The cushion dipped under her weight. "Just eat the pizza, Dom."

He sat down beside her, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. He could smell her perfume, something soft and floral. He picked up a slice. The cheese stretched. The pepperoni glistened. The crust was golden and perfect.

He took a bite.

His eyes closed.

"Oh my God," he mumbled, his mouth full. "Hazel. This is..."

"Good?"

"Good? This is incredible. This is the best pizza I’ve ever had. This is—" He took another bite, unable to finish his sentence. His words were lost in the taste.

Hazel’s cheeks flushed. She looked away, pretending to study the label on the soda bottle. Her fingers picked at the edge of the label.

"It’s just pizza," she said.

"It’s not just pizza. It’s your pizza." He swallowed, then pointed the crust at her. "You made this. With your hands. In a kitchen. I am so lucky to know you."

"The instructions were on the box."

"You still had to follow them. And you added extra cheese because I asked." His voice was softer now, almost gentle.

Hazel shrugged, but her ears were pink.

Dominique grinned and took another bite.

They ate in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft crunch of crust and the occasional clink of glasses. The city lights flickered outside the window. A car horn honked somewhere in the distance.

Hazel picked up a slice and nibbled at the edge, eating slowly, carefully.

"Is it really good?" she asked, not looking at him.

"Really good."

"You’re not just saying that?"

"I would never lie about pizza." His voice was serious, but his eyes were smiling.

She smiled.

Dominique watched her. The way her hair fell across her face. The way her fingers held the slice. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The way she bit her lower lip when she was thinking.

His heart did that little flip again.

They finished the pizza. Dominique ate the last slice, even though he was full, because he couldn’t bear to waste it. His stomach protested but he ignored it. Hazel laughed at him, and he pretended to be offended, clutching his chest and gasping dramatically.

When they were done, Dominique leaned back against the couch, patting his stomach with a satisfied sigh. His eyes were half-closed, his face relaxed, a small content smile playing on his lips. He looked like a cat who had just eaten a very large meal and was contemplating a nap. His dark hair had fallen across his forehead, soft and messy.

Hazel watched him. The way his chest rose and fell. The way his lips curved in that lazy, happy smile. The way his hand rested on his stomach, fingers spread wide.

She didn’t say what she was thinking.

"You know," she said, breaking the comfortable silence, "Nicolas actually invited me to his party."

Dominique’s smile didn’t fade, but his eyes opened a little wider. He tilted his head, looking at her from the corner of his eye. The lazy contentment didn’t leave his face, but something behind it sharpened.

"Did he now?"

"A grand, yet pretentious, party at his estate," she remarked, her eyes reflecting deep contemplation. "I sense some underlying motive at play within him."