**Stefano’s POV**

I didn't move from the cold marble floor.

It felt like hours, as if time had thickened 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 ...