My Husband’s Bedmate Hurt My Daughter Chapter 01

My Husband’s Bedmate Hurt My Daughter Chapter 01

I handed my seven-year-old daughter Elodie over to my husband Matteo right after school, asking him to keep an eye on her for a few hours in his top-floor office at DeLuca Group.

She sat by the sofa drawing, and accidentally knocked over a framed photo on Matteo’s desk, smashing it to pieces.

It was an intimate snapshot of Matteo with his personal assistant, Bianca.

Bianca rushed over at once, raised her hand and slapped my daughter hard across the cheek.

She forced Elodie to her knees beside the broken glass and made her apologize.

Elodie broke down sobbing, begging to go home.

Later, my little girl told me that the woman had dragged her into a storage room and locked her up for over three hours.

Bianca had warned her coldly, “If you breathe a word of this to your mom, your dad will stop wanting you.”

“Mommy… is Daddy really going to leave me?”

I stared at her swollen, red little cheek.

I saw the dark purple bruises on her knees from kneeling on the glass.

I traced the clear, fresh outline of a palm print etched into her skin.

In that instant, my blood ran cold.

I dropped to my knees and pulled her tight against my chest, holding her as tightly as I could.

“It’s okay, baby, don’t be scared.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t want you.”

“We’re the ones who don’t want him.”

I had endured Matteo’s behavior for far too long, all for Elodie’s sake, to keep our family intact.

I was the one who single-handedly put Matteo in his position as chairman of DeLuca Group.

I’d always thought he wasn’t foolish enough to forget exactly who’d put him where he stood today.

But today’s incident showed me exactly how foolish he was.

…

I’d heard whispers swirling around the office about Matteo and Bianca for ages.

Everyone inside DeLuca Group murmured that their dynamic was nothing like a boss and his assistant.

They looked nothing like a boss and assistant—more like a pair of madly in love lovers.

I’d brushed all the gossip off.

Not because I was naive.

It was simply because I had trusted Matteo completely.

Today, as soon as the elevator doors slid open, I heard my daughter’s suppressed, quiet sobs before I even caught sight of her.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

I hurried straight to the front desk.

Elodie sat huddled in the corner of the lobby sofa.

Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, her dress crumpled.

Dark bruises covered both her knees from being forced to kneel on sharp glass.

She covered her left cheek with her tiny hands, but they were too small to hide the clear slap mark.

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them.

“Sweetheart, tell Mommy what happened.”

“Who hurt you?”

Elodie threw herself into my arms, shaking uncontrollably with sobs.

No matter how gently I asked her what happened, she only shook her head, too scared to say a word.

I curled my hands into tight fists, fighting back the white-hot rage burning in my chest, and called Matteo on video.

He finally answered on the third call.

On screen, he sat positioned at the head of the meeting room table, crisp suit perfectly pressed, his jaw tight, clearly annoyed.

Bianca stood poised behind his shoulder, clutching a stack of folders, playing the part of an innocent, diligent secretary.

Matteo frowned and spoke sharply the second the line connected.

“Serena, I’m in the middle of meeting high-value clients. Why are you blowing up my phone with video calls? What’s the matter?”

“Matteo, what client could possibly matter more than your own daughter?” My voice came out hoarse, barely recognizable as my own.

“Someone hurt Elodie at your company.”

Matteo fell silent for a beat, then replied flatly and unfeeling.

“Bianca already filled me in on what happened.”

“Elodie was drawing all over my office and broke something of mine. Bianca couldn’t calm her down, so she just gave her a minor talking-to.”

“Just a little discipline?” My voice cracked, rising sharply in anger as I twisted my phone camera to face Elodie’s injured face.

“Look at her.”

“This is your daughter.”

“Look at her injuries—and you call this a simple lesson?”

“Where’s Bianca? I need to talk to her face-to-face and ask who gave her permission to discipline my kid.”

“That’s enough.” Matteo’s voice turned cold and stern.

“Serena, quit throwing a fit and making a scene. This is a corporate office, not some playground for your tantrums. I don’t have time for your tantrums. We can talk about whatever this is when I get home tonight.”

He ended the call without another word.

Not once, not for a split second, had he bothered to properly look at Elodie on screen.

Not even a single glance.

I stood frozen, phone hanging limp in my grip.

Elodie looked up at me timidly, her face streaked with tears.

“Mommy… does Daddy really not want me anymore?”

My heart squeezed tight in my chest.

“Baby, why would you think that?”

She hiccuped through her tears and explained, “The lady who hit me said if I told you what she did, Dad would stop loving me and abandon me.”

A lump caught in my throat.

I squeezed her tighter, forcing my voice steady and calm for her sake.

“Elodie, do you trust Mommy?”

She nodded hard through her sniffles.

“Then tell Mommy everything that happened today, from the very start.”