**Stefano’s POV**
I didn't move from the cold marble floor.
It felt like hours, as if time had stopped around me and refused to move, but it was only a few minutes. The glass shards from the broken vase bit into my knees, stinging and sharp, but I welcomed the pain. It was the only thing that felt real. Dark blood seeped out, staining the white floor, but I just stared at the spot where Elena had stood.
Then the front door opened.
I heard the familiar sound of Martina’s footsteps. I heard the rustle of paper bags and the light hum she always made when she returned from the market.
The humming stopped abruptly.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Stefano!”
The grocery bags hit the floor with a dull thud. An orange rolled across the tiles, stopping right next to a pool of my blood.
“What are y
