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

Chapter 17

Just as Ariana turned to leave, a loud thud stopped her mid step.

Turning back, she found Michael Luigi’s executive assistant–staring at her with shock etched across his face, his dropped briefcase scattered across the hospital floor.

“Mrs… Maggiore?” he stammered, face draining of color. “Is that really you?”

Escape, it seemed, wouldn’t be so simple. Michael recovered quickly, positioning himself between Ariana and the exit with newfound determination.

“Please,” he implored, lowering his voice. “You can’t just disappear again. You have no idea what he’s been through since the fire. The man hasn’t slept through a single night in a year. Even if you want nothing to do with him now, at least stay until he’s out of surgery. He literally just took a car impact for

you.”

Ariana regarded him coolly, her expression betraying nothing of the calculations happening behind it.

“First,” she stated with clinical precision, “I am not Mrs. Maggiore. That person died in a fire last year–a fact your boss publicly confirmed.”

“Second, I’ll stay until he’s stable, but I’m leaving immediately after. My company has a performance

tomorrow.”

“Third, I have zero interest in rekindling any connection with Luigi Maggiore. Our relationship ended the moment he orchestrated my death.”

With each statement, Michael’s professional facade cracked further, revealing genuine distress, but he eventually nodded in reluctant agreement to her terms.

They settled into the antiseptic waiting room chairs, silence stretching between them as surgery continued behind closed doors.

her phone for the twenty–first time–nearly three hours had elapsed–the operating room doors finally swung open.

but surprisingly conscious. His unfocused gaze swept the waiting area until it found her, his eyes immediately sharpening with recognition.

escaped like

fractures and internal bleeding, Luigi reached for her

17:23

Revenge Pirouette: The 99th

12.24

hallucinated you. I kept telling them to make sure you were here when I woke up, but

as if expecting her

within his grasp, her voice devoid of

clouded his features.

his grip,

best thing that ever happened to me, Luigi, was when everyone believed I died.” Her tone was conversational, as if discussing

contact as she continued. “Not many people could experience ninety–eight calculated humiliations from the person they trusted most and still remain standing in the same room with them

drained of color as the full

he struggled upright, nearly tearing

reaching for her. “It wasn’t–it

performance tomorrow that requires my complete focus. This

leave,” he pleaded, grabbing her wrist. “I can’t lose you again. Not when I’ve just

go of me.” Her voice remained

frantically, his grip tightening. “Please, just

changed tactics. Her expression shifted subtly, taking on a weariness that penetrated his desperation.

tomorrow. Twenty–eight dancers and thousands of