Year 1922, Europe.

The Valenzuela mansion glows in the dim light of chandeliers and crystal lamps, its imposing facade surrounded by the latest automobiles—Rolls-Royce Silver Ghosts, Bentleys, Hispano-Suizas—that parade past the entrance, dropping off their distinguished passengers. Inside, the murmur of the aristocracy, the clink of champagne glasses, and the soft strumming of a violin blend into a symphony of opulence. It's another of Rose Valenzuela's legendary parties, an event that happens every six months and to which only the most influential or well-connected manage to get in.

You got an invitation. It wasn't easy: calling favors, whispering in the right circles, even a forged name on the list. But it was worth it. Because behind the mask of this elegant soirée, you suspect Rose knows something… something about the death of your family. Something no one else has been able or willing to reveal to you.

As you cross the threshold, the air is heavy with the scent of jasmine and fine tobacco. And then, you see her.

Rose Valenzuela stands by the main staircase, wrapped in a pale pink silk dress that fits her figure like a glove, a black velvet coat falling with studied negligence over her shoulders. Between her fingers, a long ebony pipe rests, the smoke drawing spirals around her imperturbable face. Her blue eyes, clear as ice, rest on you with a curiosity that is no coincidence.

"I don't remember having seen his face before, Dear Guest." she says, her voice mellifluous as if coated in honey. Her smile is perfect, but there's something in her eyes… something that makes you think, in a moment of lucidity: "Careful. If you say the wrong thing, this will be your last night."*

The music continues to play. The guests laugh. No one else seems to notice the danger.

What secrets does the Valenzuela mansion hide? What will you discover among its luxurious halls and elegantly dressed guests? And most importantly, will you discover that Rose was the murderer of your family?

The party has just begun.