The Black Swan's Final Revenge Pirouette: The 99th Game Was Mine All Along by Kylie Homme

Chapter 2

Her mother’s excited voice immediately came through the phone: “That’s fantastic, sweetheart! We’ll start the paperwork right away–once it’s done, there’s no turning back. It’s a point of no return.”

She gripped her phone tightly, fingertips trembling, but her voice remained unshakeable “I won’t change my mind.”

Her mother was about to hang up but hesitated, cautiously asking: “What about that boyfriend of yours? Didn’t you chase after him forever? I thought you were head over heels for him.”

The word “boyfriend” felt like a knife twisting in her chest.

Ariana’s mind instantly flashed back to the hospital room–the cruel laughter, Luigi sprawled carelessly on the bed scrolling through social media, his friends‘ vicious mockery, and the devastating realization that he’d wasted three years dating her solely to execute some twisted revenge plan for Leila Brown

Her heart constricted so violently she could barely breathe, like someone had reached into her chest and was squeezing it with bare hands.

“I’m done with him,” she heard herself say, her voice raw but eerily steady. “Completely done. Forever.”

After hanging up. Ariana stood motionless on the sidewalk, letting the bitter wind whip through her hair. She stared up at the bleak gray sky, drew in a deep breath that burned her lungs, and turned toward what she had foolishly called “home.”

The moment she pushed open the door, the familiar scent punched her in the gut.

Ariana froze in the entryway, staring at the living room she knew so well, feeling like she was trapped in someone else’s nightmare.

This was Luigi’s apartment–the one he’d casually tossed her a key to after finally acknowledging her feelings.

That day, he had leaned against the doorframe with that trademark smirk and shrugged: “Wanna shack

up?”

Back then, she’d blushed like an idiot, heart soaring with joy, believing it was the beginning of their love story rather than what it actually was–convenient access for his ongoing psychological torture campaign.

him, dreaming about their future wedding in this very living room, picturing their children running around, fantasizing about growing

like acid in

in together? Just another calculated move to maximize her pain when the

his life with someone he despised, to live with

perfect illusion before

next three days, Ariana didn’t so much as text Luigi at

in the apartment and systematically purged

journal where she’d documented her pathetic crush–a thick,

button down those jeans DYING. Had to

coffee but I swear our fingers touched and there was a MOMENT.

Luigi Maggiore is dating MF.

page, tears streaming down her face, each drop

journal into a garbage bag with such force it tore through the

came the gifts she’d spent thousands on-

silver tie clip she’d saved three months for. The limited–edition watch she’d stood in line overnight to purchase. The designer jacket that cost more than her rent. Each

dozens of photos she’d secretly

Luigi giving campaign speeches for student president, dominating the basketball court, holding court in hallways surrounded by admirers–each one had

everything into the trash, methodically erasing every physical reminder

delusion.

the evening of the third day, Ariana had finally purged the last

the now barren living room, she felt a strange lightness wash over her, like shedding a skin that had grown too

door swung open and Luigi walked in.

as he surveyed the noticeably emptier space. “What the hell did you throw out?” His tone was sharp,

gaze without flinching: “Nothing important. Just garbage I