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.

twenty–first time–nearly three hours had elapsed–the operating room doors

gurney, his head heavily bandaged, but surprisingly conscious. His unfocused gaze swept the waiting area until it

word escaped like a

suite, despite multiple fractures and internal bleeding, Luigi reached for her the moment the medical staff departed, his trembling hands gripping hers with desperate

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Final Revenge Pirouette: The

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you. I kept telling them to make sure you were here when I woke

her closer, as if expecting her to evaporate at any moment.

within his grasp, her voice devoid of emotion: “Your enthusiasm isn’t

Confusion clouded his

extracted her hands from his grip, stepping back

I died.” Her tone was conversational, as if discussing the weather. “It gave me the freedom to build a life

“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

color as the full implications

his injuries, he struggled upright, nearly tearing out his

begged, reaching for her. “It wasn’t–it started that way, but

she interrupted, glancing at her watch. “I have a performance tomorrow that requires my complete focus.

lose you again. Not when I’ve

Her voice

frantically, his grip tightening.

shifted subtly, taking on a weariness that

Twenty–eight dancers and thousands of