My Husband Asked For A Second Wife (Serafina and Matteo) novel Chapter 28

Serafina

The silence lasts exactly three seconds before Bianca completely loses her shit.

“This is fucking insane!” She’s on her feet, designer heels clicking against marble like bullets hitting pavement. “Some random bastard gets everything? Everything we’ve worked for?”

“Bianca, sit down,” Viviana hisses, but her voice lacks its usual authority. She looks like someone just told her gravity stopped working.

“No! I will not sit down while some Spanish whore’s spawn steals our inheritance!”

“Spanish noblewoman, actually,” Pemberton corrects with the kind of professional calm that suggests he’s witnessed many family meltdowns. “Sofia Vasquez was from one of Spain’s oldest families. Don Verrelli met her during a business trip to Barcelona twenty-eight years ago.”

“Noblewoman?” Matteo’s voice cracks like he’s going through puberty again. “My father had an affair with Spanish nobility and produced a secret heir while I was what—learning to tie my fucking shoes?”

“It appears so.”

“This is bullshit,” Bianca snarls. “Complete bullshit. Adrian’s nobody. He works for Ferdinand, he drives cars, he’s—”

“He’s more legitimate than either of you.”

Everyone turns to stare at Pemberton, who’s pulling out yet another folder because apparently this legal massacre needs more documentation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Viviana finally speaks, and her voice sounds like she’s swallowed glass.

“It means Don Verrelli discovered some interesting information about his family bloodline before his death.”

Oh, shit. This is about to get so much worse.

“Matteo,” Pemberton continues, “is not Don Verrelli’s biological son.”

The room doesn’t just go quiet—it goes vacuum-of-space, black-hole-eating-sound quiet.

Matteo’s face cycles through disbelief, confusion, and rage in about two seconds flat. “What did you just say?”

“DNA testing confirmed it. You are not Don Verrelli’s child.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s documented science.”

Viviana makes a sound like a dying animal. “No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening.”

“Who’s his father?” I ask, because someone has to voice what we’re all thinking.

“Carlo Benedetto.”

Benedetto. Another family head. Another married man. Another spectacular scandal that’s about to destroy lives.

“You had an affair with Carlo Benedetto?” Matteo turns on his mother like she just confessed to war crimes.

“It was complicated—”

“Complicated?” Matteo’s laugh could power a small nuclear reactor. “You fucked another man, passed me off as Father’s son for thirty years, and it’s complicated?”

“Don’t you dare judge me—”

“Judge you? I’m processing the fact that my entire identity is built on a lie!”

Bianca’s just standing there, mouth opening and closing like a fish drowning in air. “If Matteo’s not… if Father isn’t… then what does that make me?”

“Illegitimate,” Pemberton says helpfully. “Both of you.”

“But I look like him—”

“You look like your mother. Who, genetically speaking, got around more than previously documented.”

Jesus Christ. Viviana didn’t just cheat—she built an entire family on lies.

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