The echoes of Victoria's triumphant footsteps began to fade down the long, winding corridor toward the east wing.
She paused for a brief second, turning back one last time to gaze down at the wreckage she had created.
The standing woman points down angrily and yells.
Victoria: Get out of here, you piece of trash!
SFX: Echoing slap of sound
Victoria: And don't ever think you can challenge my authority in this mansion again.
She pointed a manicured finger directly at Clara's limp hand resting near a jagged piece of glass.
Victoria: By morning, the lawyers will have the deed transferred entirely into my sole possession.
Clara: Ugh...
A faint groan escaped Clara's lips as her fingers twitched slightly against the cold marble surface.
Victoria: Oh, save the dramatic breathing exercises for someone who actually cares about your sob stories.
Victoria stepped closer, her expression hardening with pure, unfiltered malice.
Victoria: If you tell your father a single word about what happened here, I will make sure he cuts off your medical fund.
Clara: You... won't get away... with this...
Victoria: I already have, you foolish girl. Nobody crosses Victoria Vance and survives to tell the tale.
She laughed coldly, turning her back on the broken mirror and walking away without a single shred of remorse.
Will Victoria's reign of terror continue unchecked, or is someone watching from the shadows?
Victoria: Let's see who believes your word over mine when the police arrive.