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

Chapter 11

Leila had been pampered her entire life–people spoke to her in reverent tones, never raising their voices, let alone shouting at her.

Blind with rage, she lunged forward, perfectly manicured nails aimed at Luigi’s face like talons!

Luigi deflected her attack effortlessly, shoving her backward until she stumbled and collapsed to the floor in an undignified heap.

“Security,” he called, voice ice cold, “remove Miss Brown from the premises. Immediately.”

“YOU BASTARD!” Leila’s shrieks ricocheted off the marble floors.

The massive oak doors slammed shut, silencing her hysteria mid–scream.

The day of Ariana’s funeral arrived beneath a weeping sky–gentle rain that seemed to mourn alongside the gathered crowd.

Luigi carried her urn with trembling hands, his movements painfully deliberate as he placed it into the marble crypt. Every moment felt surreal, as if he were trapped in some horrific dream he couldn’t escape. This couldn’t be happening–he couldn’t be burying the woman he had only just realized he loved.

As the final stone was placed, the collective sobs behind him crescendoed.

Ariana had been genuinely beloved. Her radiance had touched countless lives.

Her parents, shattered by unimaginable grief, had retreated abroad, unable to face the ceremony that would make their daughter’s absence permanent.

But everyone else who had known Ariana–from childhood friends to professors, even the barista who had served her daily coffee–had come to pay their respects.

Their grief mingled with the rain, creating a symphony of sorrow that seemed to emanate from the earth

itself.

Luigi knelt before her tombstone, a broken man rendered statue–like in his grief. His fingers repeatedly traced the inscription he had insisted upon: “Ariana Collins Maggiore, Beloved Wife.”

Wife. The title she should have held in life, not just in death.

“Ariana…” Her name caught in his throat, tears falling before he could form another word. Every memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she’d dance around their kitchen on Sunday mornings–all of it crashed over him in waves of regret so powerful they physically hurt.

7.66

He remained kneeling long after everyone had gone, the rain soaking through his expensive suit, his body shivering violently though he felt nothing

That night, having refused to leave her graveside until physically carried away by his security team, Luigi collapsed with a dangerous fever.

Ariana

he hadn’t left her behind. In this version, he had recognized the danger, had grabbed her hand and pulled the blindfold from her eyes.

he shouted, gripping her fingers so tightly he feared he might hurt her, but unable to loosen his hold. “The whole place is

as they navigated through the labyrinthine hallways. Each

ahead, freedom visible through its glass panel, Ariana suddenly stopped.

he pulled, she remained

the fire had already reached the

begged, terror making his voice crack. “We have

with such profound sadness that his heart constricted. Slowly, deliberately, she

she said softly. “You’re the one

turned and walked deliberately back

inferno.

“ARIANA, NO!”

explosion engulfed her, erasing her from existence in a violent flash of light and

“ARIANA!”

in cold sweat despite the fever ravaging his system. The dream had felt so real–for those few precious moments, she had

reach.

nightstand–a pathetic ritual he couldn’t break, checking for messages from a number that would

The

All Alor

he could unlock the screen, his bedroom door burst open, his butler’s face ashen with panic: “Sir! There’s an emergency at Mrs. Maggiore’s crypt!”

psychological break–sneaking into the cemetery with

scene before him was something from a nightmare. Leila stood in the rain, mascara streaming down her

his fever–induced weakness, Luigi approached her slowly. “Put it down, Leila,” he

tone only seemed to further unravel her fragile

championship, now my future husband! Even in death, she gets to

with NOTHING!”

froze at her next

ago instead of just framing her for cheating! Would have saved us all

trouble!”

through him–the original “crime” that had justified three years of torment had been fabricated. He had destroyed Ariana for nothing.

illness. He lunged forward, desperate to protect the only physical reminder of Ariana he had

his fingers nearly reached

him.

slow as he collapsed forward. Leila, startled by his sudden movement,