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.”

hollow reassurance made her want to scream. A bitter laugh caught

Every ounce of pain she’d experienced over

Copier

back to him. He wasn’t her protector–he

that evening. Ariana

beside her. Before she could. process what was happening, three men jumped out and grabbed her, one clamping a sweet–smelling cloth over her

before the darkness claimed her was a desperate prayer: Please let this just be random, not another one of Luigi’s games.

bound with zip ties. Four rough–looking men surrounded her,

the largest one sneered, running a finger down her cheek. “Luigi’s little

do you want?”

the fog still clearing from her mind, “Who are

she’s scared,” another one laughed, reaching for the buttons on her blouse. “That rich boy’s been hogging

done, we’ll take some pictures for your boyfriend,” a third one said, pulling out his phone.

twisting and kicking despite her restraints, but in her weakened state, she was no match

face. Despite everything, in that moment of pure terror, she still found herself desperately hoping Luigi would somehow find her–that he

door exploded inward,

AWAY FROM HER!” Luigi’s voice was unrecognizable–a primal roar of pure

cockroaches, stumbling over each other in their haste to escape the murderous. fury radiating from

body. When she looked up at Luigi, what she saw stopped her heart–genuine fear in his eyes, raw

it was like

rushed to her side, bús hands visibly shaking

the trauma was too fresh. She flinched away instinctively, a broken seb escaping her lips as she

spin, black spots dancing atross

back to awareness in

her eyes, the heard voices just

heated

controlled, trembling with rage. “Which one of you geniuses thought hiring men

Ninety–seven down. just two more to go, then

the others fall silent.