While My Daughter Burned to Death, My Husband Soaking in A Hot Spring Chapter 02

While My Daughter Burned to Death, My Husband Soaking in A Hot Spring Chapter 02

Looking at Enzo’s ugly face in front of me, I swore I would never let him live well.

A week earlier, after discovering his affair, I had hired a hacker to monitor his phone and computer remotely.

At first, I only wanted proof of his infidelity so I could gain more in the divorce settlement.

So when he demanded a divorce, I agreed without saying another word.

He was secretly thrilled that he could finally live openly and intimately with Serena.

He had no idea the evidence in my hands was enough to send him to prison.

Negligent homicide.

Perjury.

Domestic abuse.

And the one thing a Mafia family could never tolerate: betraying the family’s interests.

He would pay for Aurora’s death.

Who was Serena Ricci?

The daughter of a fallen noble family north of Milan.

Later, she married the heir of the noble Visconti family in Verona, a pitiful man whose brain had been damaged by a high fever in childhood.

Conte Vittorio Visconti.

She dumped Enzo for money back then.

Now that Enzo had become a Mafia boss, she came crawling back.

Old habits die hard.

As Italians liked to say, Il leopardo non cambia le macchie.

A leopard does not change its spots.

I sent the explicit messages I had obtained from Enzo’s phone to Serena’s husband, Vittorio.

They were full of dirty texts and schedules for their affairs.

“Who are you? Why are you slandering my wife?” he replied.

I had already sent him screenshots of the messages, yet he still called it slander.

At first, I thought Serena had fooled him too deeply.

Later, I realized his mind truly was not sharp.

While Enzo and Serena went to another seaside villa for their affair, I personally went to the Visconti family villa.

The garden was neatly trimmed, and the fountain was still running.

I told the nanny I wanted to see Master Vittorio.

She asked me to wait, saying he was eating.

Ten minutes later, I entered the dining room and saw the nanny chasing a man in his thirties around the room with a spoon.

She kept calling, “One more bite, Young Lord Vittorio. Just one more.”

The man was riding a wooden toy horse through the dining room, making whining noises with his mouth.

I froze.

Vittorio Visconti, the sole heir of the Verona noble family, really was a fool.

The nanny sighed.

“Donna Adriana, you’ve seen it for yourself. Young Mistress Serena married into this family for money. Now she doesn’t even bother pretending. She spends every day outside looking for men.”

The plan failed.

I had wanted to join forces with Vittorio against Serena.

Now, that road was clearly impossible.

I could only rely on myself.

Soon, the day of Aurora’s farewell ceremony arrived.

I had been calling Enzo since morning.

Either he hung up, or he did not answer at all.

He had not answered when our daughter died.

Now, at her farewell ceremony, he still refused to answer.

I looked at my daughter’s tiny casket and cried until I could barely stand.

Back then, I struggled to conceive.

After three rounds of IVF and hundreds of hormone injections, I finally gave birth to Aurora.

She was my only life.

I left her for only a few days.

And I lost her forever.

After the cremation, I held her urn and prepared to take her to the cemetery.

When I reached the church entrance, Enzo finally ran over, panting.

His shirt buttons were mismatched, and his neck was covered in kiss marks.

“You’re only here now. I almost thought you were dead too,” I said.

After the divorce, Enzo no longer bothered pretending.

“If you had watched her properly, how would she have died? You call yourself Aurora’s mother?”

“I was only a little late. You’re the one who caused our child’s death.”

I listened to his curses without saying a word.

He still did not know I had learned the truth.

He still thought that lighter had been destroyed in the fire.

Don’t worry, Enzo.

You do not have many good days left.

Today was my daughter’s farewell ceremony.

Today was also her funeral.

It was not right to make a scene at a funeral.

The dead deserved respect.

Tomorrow, the game would begin.