My Husband Stole My Baby,And Raised His Mistress’s Daughter in My HouseChapter 1
I was tying my five-year-old daughter Carina's hair when she threw a tantrum and smashed the new hair clip I'd just bought her.
"It's ugly! I want the butterfly clip that 'Mama Serafina' got me."
"Mama Serafina" was Carina's new governess, Serafina Conti. She'd been vetted by household security and installed at the estate barely a week ago, brought in to handle Carina's early schooling in the private study on the third floor.
One week. And already she'd gone from "Miss Conti" to "Mama Serafina."
My husband, Dante Ferraro, scooped Carina up and pinned the butterfly clip into her hair. He tossed me a casual reassurance. "Honey, she's just a kid. Of course she likes pretty things. Don't take it to heart. I'll bring her down to lessons."
I looked at him, my smile nowhere near my eyes. "Is it the pretty thing she likes, or the pretty person?"
Dante's expression stiffened for a split second before he bounced Carina in his arms, playing it off. That smile came a half-second too fast, the one that always preceded whatever calculated thing left his mouth next. "Uh-oh, Mommy's making her scary face. She's gonna eat you up!"
Carina played right along, shrieking, "Run! The ugly monster is so scary!"
The door clicked shut. The house went silent. Somewhere below, one of the soldiers posted at the east wing coughed once and then there was nothing.
My phone chimed. A notification from my assistant: the blood verification results from Dr. Marchetti.
I scrolled straight to the bottom.
Black ink on white paper. The conclusion was unambiguous: the maternal relationship between Valentina Montecarlo and Carina was not supported.
I stared at those words until my hands and feet went numb with cold.
The little girl I had raised like a princess for five years was not mine.
Then where was the baby I'd spent three days and nights in labor for, the one I'd nearly died delivering when the amniotic fluid embolism hit?
——
My fingertip hovered over the screen.