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

Chapter 4

Within seconds, the messages disappeared from the chat, as if they’d been nothing but a hallucination.

Ariana stared at her phone, her hand trembling so violently she nearly dropped it. The realization hit her like a physical blow, driving the air from her lungs. The cold truth spread through her veins like poison.

Everything–her “accident” at the pool, her fever, the “medicine“-had all been meticulously orchestrated as part of their sick game. The pills Luigi had so tenderly given her, pretending to care, were specifically designed to intensify her suffering.

She’d known they were using her, had heard it with her own ears at the hospital, but experiencing it firsthand made the betrayal infinitely more devastating. The calculated cruelty of it all made her physically ill.

Her phone lit up with Luigi’s name.

“Where the fuck are you?” His voice was sharp with urgency, almost angry. “Why aren’t you at the apartment?”

Ariana took a deep, steadying breath, forcing herself to sound detached: “My fever got worse. I had to go

to the ER.”

The line went dead silent before Luigi responded, his tone suddenly softer: “I’m coming over. Which hospital?”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, her voice eerily calm. “They’re just giving me fluids and keeping me overnight. You seem busy with your… other priorities. Don’t let me interrupt.

Her controlled tone seemed to quiet something in him too. After several seconds of silence, he asked carefully: “Did you check your phone at all?”

So that

1. it. He wasn’t worried about her health–he was terrified she’d seen those messages, that their

game was exposed.

“No,” she lied, “The doctor said my temperature was dangerously high. I’ve been a little preoccupied with not dying to scroll through social media.”

Another weighted silence before Luigi spoke, his voice carrying an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “As long as I’m around, nothing bad will happen to you. I promise.”

scream. A bitter

he was around? Every ounce of pain she’d experienced over the

Copier

directly back to him. He wasn’t

that evening. Ariana was

beside her. Before she could. process what was happening, three men jumped

Please let this just be random, not another one of Luigi’s games. Please

herself in a seedy motel room, wrists and ankles bound with zip ties. Four

her cheek. “Luigi’s little princess,

you want?”

whimpered, the fog still clearing from her mind, “Who are

even hotter when she’s scared,” another one laughed, reaching for the buttons on her blouse. “That rich boy’s been hogging you all to himself.”

said, pulling out his phone. “Show him what a slut his girlfriend

restraints, but in her weakened state, she was no match

tore at her clothes, tears streamed down her face. Despite everything, in that moment of pure terror, she still found herself desperately hoping Luigi would somehow find her–that he would burst through that door and save

her thoughts, the door exploded inward, wood

voice was unrecognizable–a primal roar of pure

over each other in their haste to escape the murderous. fury radiating

Luigi, what she saw stopped

it was like seeing

her side, bús hands

away instinctively, a broken

before she could process it, the room began to spin, black spots

to awareness in what she recognized

just outside

heated

that?” Luigi’s voice was barely controlled, trembling with rage. “Which one of you geniuses thought hiring

thought you wanted to speed things up. Ninety–seven down. just two more to go, then you’re

others fall silent. “I never authorized anyone to fucking touch her like that!”