You wrapped your arm around Virginia, grabbed a bottle of champagne and steered her into your suite. About half an hour later, even through closed doors and the din of a party, we could hear screams. Knocks went ignored. By the time we were finally able to force the door open, she was on her stomach, naked, bleeding and still. There was so much blood; scarlet smeared the sheets, the wall, the girl’s thighs, your belly, your _cock_. There was no doubt about what you had done. No doubt at all. And you never said a word. You just went into the bathroom to dress. Then, you left without a backward glance.

My biggest problem is that I don't know who the "you" is -- the use of second person makes it feel like you mean it to be me, but the person who did this clearly isn't me. That might be okay if you had painted a picture of me the way you want me to be first.

Is this murder literally something that I, a normal person (if I may call myself that), did under some strange circumstances? Or was this murder predictable, if you had only known me well enough?

It may be that this confrontation isn't the place to start, but I have to finish the story before I can figure that part out.

On a matter of personal taste, this hit me with too much too soon, maybe because the speaker's dialogue had a bit of an expository feel and I felt forced to see the gorey scene before I had any real interest in the story. And I'm usually not squeamish, I just finished reading "Hannibal" yesterday morning.

The use of quotation marks, but not around the story, is confusing. You might leave them off.

Is this a letter? An answering machine message? You might tell us; that could help. Or maybe it's dialog, in which case it's more like

"So you want to know what I told the cops?" John said to Bill. (Some details of their relationship, and why John is telling this version of events.) "Here's the abbreviated version. You wrapped your arm...on her stomach, naked and bleeding."

(Bill reacts)

Starting with language stuff: When semicolons connect clauses, each one should be able to stand on its own as a separate sentence. "John hated riding in Mary's car; it smelled like three-day-old halibut." "bitterness leaching out of her every pore" should therefore be "bitterness leached out of every pore", and "shared a common dream" should be "they shared a common dream", if you want to keep the semicolons.

You might also use a colon, but a good rule of thumb (and maybe an actual rule, who knows?) is that it should be in a place where you could say, "that is." "Oliver was pedantic: as boring as white rice flavored with farina." That works for your second semicolon, I think, although I'd still want to add "they": "together: they shared a common dream."

Any other punctuation people can correct me. I'm going from memory.

There's also a little bit of redundancy here. You don't have to say "lavishly appointed" because I see a Persian carpet, antique furniture, and silk. I would drop either "ornate" or "mahogany" for the same kind of reason. (I'd probably keep "mahogany" because it's more specific, or I'd use "ornately carved" or something.)

As far as the story goes, I still want a name for Maude's old lover: "sat across from Roscoe, her old lover, with only..." is fine.

I'm thrown just a little bit by the way Maude had traded the stars in her eyes for dollar signs, when her newest goal is power. The sequence is actually a little different than you present it here, isn't it? After re-reading I think that her ultimate goal, the stars in her eyes, is pure power; she deferred it for money, which has its uses; but she hasn't given up, and will return to her quest for power one day. If so, I didn't really get that from what you have here.

For all that I nitpick, though, it's a much better opening.