The Marble Abyss: The mistress of the house who threw her humble servant into the void, unaware that her own home was watching her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of agonizing violence, Rosa’s body reached the bottom of the grand staircase.

She hit the white marble floor of the main foyer with a heavy, sickening thud, sliding several feet before coming to a complete, motionless stop. Her limbs were twisted at unnatural, broken angles. Her white hair was stained instantly by a dark, thick pool of crimson blood that began spreading rapidly across the pristine floor.

Above, at the top of the stairs, silence reclaimed the mansion.

Valeria stood at the landing, her chest heaving, her heart hammering against her ribs. She smoothed down her designer dress, touched her hair to ensure not a single strand was out of place, and looked down at the broken body lying thirty feet below.

Rosa lay entirely still.

Valeria smiled. The threat was eliminated. Her fortune, her status, and her secrets were safe once again.

Acting with chilling, cold calculation, Valeria walked down the upper corridor, carefully picking up every single piece of shredded paper that had scattered during the struggle. She crumpled them into a ball and stuffed them deep into her handbag, ensuring not a single scrap of evidence remained on the second floor.

"A tragic accident," Valeria rehearsed under her breath, crafting her lie with sociopathic precision. "The poor old woman lost her footing. Her knees were always bad..."

Satisfied that the upper landing was spotless, Valeria took a deep breath, pinched her own cheeks to make them red, and prepared to deliver the performance of her life.