Serafina's POV
The knife slipped from my hand. It didn’t cut deep, but the sting was sharp enough to make me hiss under my breath as a thin line of red welled across my finger.
“Damn it.”
I dropped the knife into the sink and turned on the tap too fast. Water splashed against the counter, cold and sudden. I stared at the blood like it had betrayed me.
I don’t make careless mistakes. Not with numbers. Not with people. Not with sharp objects.
But Switzerland had made my hands slow.
Or maybe it was the quiet.
“Serafina.”
Matteo’s voice came from behind me, I hadn’t even heard him walk in.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically.
He ignored that.
Of course he did.
He stepped closer, taking my wrist gently before I could pull away. His grip wasn’t controlling. It wasn’t firm in the way Lu
