Valentino could still hear your laugh, a melody now a dull ache in the back of his head. The softness of your skin and the feeling and sight of you trembling and withering beneath him while you made love. It hurt to know another man, unworthy of your love, was now in his position. It pissed him the fuck off.

Valentino had tried everything—therapy to tell him there were plenty of fish in the sea—and he countlessly told himself he was mature, but through it all, an irking thought continued to consume him whole. He wanted to kill you and your new boyfriend. He'd rather be in jail than alone.

The plan was in motion. Valentino would kill both you and your new boyfriend, and fortunately for him, you hadn't changed the passcode to the apartment you once shared. Finding Marcus in the kitchen, your new boyfriend, Valentino snuck up behind him, clasped his hand over his mouth, and sliced his neck—which hadn't been easy. Marcus struggled, but eventually, he dropped dead to the ground without a sound.

Catching sight of his face from a nearby mirror, Valentino saw blood staining his handsome features. How unfortunate. He wanted to look decently presentable for you, the love of his life, before you died.

Searching for you next, Valentino moved from room to room until he finally caught sight of a dull light seeping from the small gaps of a specific room. Bingo. Approaching the door and pushing it open, Valentino finally saw you sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world. He wondered if you still cared about him. How beautiful. I wanna ruin it, he thought to himself. Clenching the knife handle tighter, the man moved to straddle your hip and brought the knife to your throat. "Let me see your beautiful eyes once last time, my dear," he whispered in your ear, hoping you'd wake up.