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

Chapter 9

Luigi stood frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the charred remains. Time seemed to stop around him.

He became a statue amid the chaos–paramedics rushing about, police radios crackling, his friends sobbing in the background–all of it faded to white noise

The rescue workers approached with measured steps, their faces grim beneath rain soaked helmets as they carried the stretcher toward him. With solemn reverence, they placed her body at his feet.

“Mr. Maggiore,” the fire chief said softly. “we’re deeply sorry for your loss.”

The rain intensified, fat droplets splattering against Luigi’s face, mingling with tears he didn’t realize he was shedding. His legs gave way as he collapsed to his knees beside her, his eyes burning red.

His outstretched hands trembled violently as he tried to reach for her. Once, twice, three times he attempted to gather her into his arms, but his muscles refused to cooperate. Finally, with gentle guidance from a paramedic, he cradled what remained of Ariana against his chest.

Just hours ago–was it really only hours?-she had sat beside him in his car, her smile soft and knowing eyes bright with something he now recognized as farewell as she’d confessed her love one final time.

Now she lay motionless in his embrace, the girl who had once been so full of life reduced to this.

Her cold body temperature seeped through his rain–soaked clothes, sending ice straight to his core. The sensation was wrong–Ariana had always been warm, always radiating heat like her own personal sun.

“Ariana,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stop playing games. Wake up, please? Just wake up.”

He called her name over and over, the desperate pleas of a drowning man, but she remained silent, as if she were simply ignoring him after a petty argument.

Luigi pressed his face against hers just as he used to do when he wanted her attention, not caring as blood and soot transferred from her ruined features to his skin.

Memories crashed over him in relentless waves.

There were so many things he’d never told her. So many truths he’d hidden.

The first and most profound secret was that he’d noticed her long before she ever approached him.

During freshman orientation, while everyone else had been half–asleep, his attention had been completely captured by the graceful figure dancing on stage–her fluid movements, twirling skirt, and that radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the entire auditorium.

He remembered every detail with crystalline clarity–the way the stage lights had caught in her hair, hoor her laughter had carried across the room when she’d stumbled slightly during a turn.

Noticing his captivation, his roommate had leaned over, whispering excitedly about the girl.

“That’s Ariana Collins. Dance scholarship. Supposedly turned down Juilliard. Every guy in the freshman class is already obsessed.”

His roommate had continued, but Luigi had stopped listening after her name.

Ariana Collins.

a creature of such grace. He had silently repeated it several times, letting

names together once, testing

Collins, Luigi Maggiore.

harmony. Like they belonged together.

he’d quickly shaken the thought away,

known since childhood, the one he was supposed

had forced himself to stay committed to the idea of Leila, his eyes had constantly betrayed him,

would notice her laughing with friends on the library steps, catch glimpses of her profile as she concentrated during lectures, or find himself mesmerized by her silhouette against the sunset as she

thoughts had

with that endearing determination, he’d found himself tempted to give

would be like to say yes, to let himself have what he actually wanted rather than what he thought he should

time, he’d ruthlessly suppressed the

help her get revenge on Ariana, his first instinct

refusal.

Revenge Pirnuene: The

not that kind of person,” he’d argued. “There must be

strangers carry groceries and volunteered at animal shelters–with someone

defense of Ariana, she’d thrown a terrifying tantrum, even threatening

dorm roof.

still cared for her then–or at least, he was accustomed to caring for

to

promised Leila he would date Ariana, execute 99 acts of revenge, and then publicly humiliate her before breaking up with

first time he’d hurt Ariana–telling her he’d gotten her a gift, then watching her search all night in a blizzard for something that didn’t exist–the guilt had been

shivering yet still smiling when she saw him,

grow numb to her pain. He’d convinced himself she

return had seemed worth the

drugged Ariana and left her with those men

in years, genuine protective fury had coursed through him, shocking even

was just pride–after all, she was still

word got out that his girlfriend had been assaulted, how would that

it was more. The sight of those men touching her had awakened something primal and terrifying

crack the walls he’d built around his feelings, though he’d still refused

and she’d said she was looking forward to

Final Revenge Pirouette: The

felt a panic unlike anything he’d

had threatened to leave

her blind folded