His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 588 Ugly

"He hasn’t taken his eyes off the baby. It’s the sweetest thing."

Alexa’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the nurse’s voice. The room was blurry at first, shapes swimming in and out of focus. She blinked slowly, her body heavy and aching, every muscle protesting the simple act of waking.

Then she saw him.

Archer sat on the plush couch near the window, bathed in soft morning light. His jacket was gone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his usually pristine hair rumpled and falling across his forehead. In his arms, cradled against his chest with the kind of tenderness she had never seen from him, was a tiny bundle wrapped in white.

He was smiling down at the baby. A wondering smile that transformed his entire face.

He looked happy.

Alexa stared for a moment, something strange twisting in her chest.

"Let me see," she croaked, her voice rough and weak from hours of screaming.

The nurses immediately turned, rushing to her side. One adjusted her pillows, another checked her IV, and a third brought a cup of water with a straw.

Archer’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice. His smile did not disappear. If anything, it widened slightly. He stood carefully, holding the baby close, and walked toward the bed.

When he reached her side, he lowered himself carefully onto the edge of the mattress and tilted the baby toward her so she could see.

"Here," he said softly. "Meet your son."

Alexa looked.

And frowned.

The baby’s face was wrinkled. Red. Slightly squished, like someone had pressed him between two pillows and left him there too long. His eyes were closed, his little mouth pursed, his skin almost purple in some places.

He was ugly.

The thought hit her like a cold wave.

What if he stayed like this? What if people and the media looked at him and saw this? What if they whispered behind her back that her son was ugly?

"Ugly," she muttered without thinking.

The word dropped into the warm, happy atmosphere like a stone into still water.

Archer’s smile vanished.

Completely. Instantly. Wiped from his face as if it had never existed.

The nurses exchanged uncomfortable glances. One of them cleared her throat softly.

For a long moment, Archer just looked at her. His blue eyes turned icy cold.

"Alexa," he said quietly, his voice carefully controlled, "he’s just a newborn. Babies look like this at first. He’ll grow into his features. He’ll be beautiful."

She blinked at him, registering the tension in his jaw, the way his grip on the baby had tightened just slightly.

"Oh." She paused. "So the baby was a boy?"

Archer’s expression softened just slightly. Some of the tension left his shoulders. "Yeah. A baby boy."

He looked down at the baby, and that soft smile crept back onto his face.

"Have you thought about names?" he asked quietly, still watching the baby’s face. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Alexa considered for a moment. Her mind drifted, unfocused, still hazy from exhaustion.

"Maybe Leon?" she said casually.

The moment the word left her mouth, she realized what she had said.

Archer’s head lifted slowly. His eyes met hers, and the expression on his face made her stomach drop. Cold. Hard. Something dark flickering behind them.

"I mean—" She scrambled, her voice pitching higher. "Leon, Aaron, Jasper. I know lots of names. Lots of names. Leon was just the first one that came to mind. It doesn’t mean anything."

Archer stared at her for a long, terrible moment.

The baby stirred in his arms, a tiny sound escaping.

Finally, Archer looked away. Back at the baby. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid, but his voice when he spoke was calm and controlled.

"We’ll discuss names later," he said quietly. "When you’re feeling better."

He stood up, still holding the baby, and walked back toward the couch without another word.

Alexa watched him go, her heart hammering in her chest.

The nurses busied themselves with monitors and charts, pretending they had not heard anything.

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Archer lowered himself onto the couch, cradling the baby gently as he looked down at him with focus. He still could not believe he had a baby.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no words came.

What could she say? She had slipped. Said the wrong name. The one name she should never have let pass her lips.

Leon.

Of all the names in the world, why had that one come out? Actually, she used to imagine that if she and Leonardo had a baby, she would name him Leon. So when Archer asked her, the name came out subconsciously.

The nurses moved around her quietly, checking monitors, adjusting pillows, pretending they had not heard anything. Their professional masks were firmly in place, but Alexa knew. She knew they had heard. She knew they would remember.

She looked toward the couch again.

Archer’s attention was still fixed on the baby, his face angled away, one finger gently tracing the tiny curve of the baby’s cheek. The softness was still there when he looked at his son, but it did not reach toward her anymore.

The baby’s eyes were closed now, sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the tension his mother had just created.

Alexa swallowed hard and looked away.

Her body ached. Her mind was foggy. She was tired, so tired, but sleep felt impossible now.

Leon sounded so close to Leonardo. So close to Leo. So he knew what she meant.

She was stupid. So incredibly stupid.

Alexa’s mind raced, panic clawing at her chest despite the exhaustion weighing down her body. How could she have been so careless? Months of careful behavior, of playing the obedient wife, of saying all the right things and keeping her thoughts hidden, all of it could be destroyed by one careless word.

Leon.

Why had she said Leon?

She needed to act more carefully. She needed to be smarter. She could not let her guard down, not even for a second, not even when her body was wrecked and her mind was foggy from pain.

What if he divorced her?

The thought made her blood run cold.

What would she do if he divorced her? Where would she go?

If Archer divorced her, she would have nothing. No status. No protection. No future.

She had to fix this.