Chapter 5 - THE DISCOVERY IN THE STUDY
By Wednesday of the first week, Serena had established a fragile peace.
The boys were still difficult—Nico had tried to lock her in the pantry on Monday, and Marco had taped her favorite spatula to the ceiling on Tuesday—but she had responded to each prank with a calm, methodical patience that seemed to confuse them. She didn't scream. She didn't threaten to tell their father. She simply turned their pranks into games, forcing them to help her solve the problems they had created.
But the real challenge was the mansion itself.
The house was too quiet during the day. Vittorio was always gone, leaving the massive stone walls empty save for Mrs. Chen and the quiet security guards who moved through the hallways like ghosts.
At two o'clock on Wednesday, while Lucia was at the local library program and the boys were still at school, Serena walked down the west wing hallway.
She was looking for a fresh set of coloring pencils for Leo, who had spent the previous evening drawing intricate, beautiful dragons on the margins of his homework. Mrs. Chen had told her there were art supplies in the study drawer.
The heavy oak door to Vittorio’s private study was slightly ajar.
Serena paused. She knew she shouldn't enter—the room was strictly off-limits to everyone except Mrs. Chen—but she could see the massive walnut desk from the hallway, and the drawer she needed was half-open.
She stepped inside.
The room smelled of old leather, expensive tobacco, and a faint, sweet cologne that she had come to associate with Vittorio. A massive oil painting of Clara Rinaldi hung above the fireplace, her pale face and dark hair watching the room with a quiet, tragic beauty.
Serena walked to the desk, her eyes scanning the neat stacks of folders and documents.
She reached for the drawer, but as she did, her sleeve caught the edge of a thick, blue leather ledger. The ledger slipped off the desk, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
A small, silver key slid out from between the pages, along with a folded piece of white paper.
Serena knelt to pick them up.
She was about to put the paper back into the ledger when her eyes caught the name at the top of the page.
VALENTE, SERENA.
Her heart stopped.
She unfolded the paper, her hands shaking as she read the neat, typed lines.
It was a full, private investigator's report on her life. It had everything—her credit score, her divorce records, the details of her custody battle with Daniel, and even a list of the grocery stores she frequented in Astoria.
But it was the bottom of the page that made her blood turn to ice.
Target’s daughter, Lucia Valente, born April 12th, 2019. Blood type: O-negative. Paternal match: None (Daniel Valente blood type: AB-positive).
Serena stared at the numbers.
The exact same genetic anomaly she had read about in the medical files.
Lucia was O-negative.
And Daniel was AB-positive.
But Daniel was Lucia’s father. Serena had never been with another man. The DNA tests they had run during the custody dispute had confirmed his paternity with a 99.9% accuracy.
How was this possible?
And why did Vittorio Rinaldi have a private investigator’s report on her daughter’s blood type sitting in his desk ledger?
The door behind her creaked.
Serena turned, her breath freezing in her throat.
May you like
Vittorio Rinaldi stood in the doorway, his coat wet from the October rain, his eyes dark with a cold, terrifying fury.
“What are you doing in my desk, Serena?” he asked, his voice a low, scraping hiss that made the hair on her arms stand up.
