Chapter 8 - The Mask Slips
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"Give me those," Valeria whispered. Her voice was no longer that of a arrogant aristocrat; it had degraded into a low, guttural growl.
"No," Rosa said firmly, pulling the papers back toward her chest. "These belong to Don Fernando. He is going to know the truth about the viper he brought into his home."
Panicked, primitive fury ignited inside Valeria’s chest. If Fernando saw those records, he would strip her of everything. He would call his legal team, file for immediate annulment, and ensure she spent the rest of her life behind bars for grand larceny and fraud.
"Give them to me, you miserable peasant!" Valeria shrieked, lunging forward.
She grabbed Rosa’s right arm, her long, sharp acrylic nails digging mercilessly into the old woman’s soft skin.
"Let go of me!" Rosa cried out, trying to pull away.
Despite her age, Rosa fought back with surprising strength, wrapping her fingers around the documents to shield them. She backed away from Valeria, but in her distress, she forgot where she was standing.
Her back bumped against the slick, polished glass balustrade that overlooked the steep, thirty-step drop to the main floor.
"Give me the papers or I swear I will destroy you!" Valeria screamed, her face twisted in a mask of pure demonic rage.
"Don Fernando!" Rosa shouted toward the floor below, hoping her voice would reach the study. "Don Fernando, help me!"
"Shut up! Shut up!" Valeria roared.
Valeria grabbed Rosa by the shoulders, shaking her violently. As they wrestled at the very edge of the top step, Valeria’s eyes shifted.
She looked down at the steep marble stairs. Then she looked at Rosa’s frail body.
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A terrifying realization washed over the young mistress. There were no witnesses. The other servants were off for the day. Fernando was locked in his soundproof study.
If Rosa disappeared, the secret died with her.
