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

Over the

past month, Ariana had contemplated escape countless times.

But Luigi seemed to have installed some supernatural GPS in her DNA–no matter where she went, he materialized within minutes. The few times she had attempted to slip away had only resulted in even tighter restrictions,

As punishment for her last attempt, he had “temporarily suspended” her contract with the National Ballet. His explanation to the artistic director had been surprisingly tactful–they needed quality time after their lengthy separation. Once they were married, she could naturally return to dancing.

Yes. Married.

During that meticulously orchestrated press conference, Luigi had not only announced her miraculous resurrection but also unveiled their upcoming wedding, scheduled just four weeks later.

Ariana had known nothing about this until she watched it happen live on stage, resulting in a confrontation afterward that changed absolutely nothing about his plans.

Today’s excursion to Boston’s luxury district was supposedly to select wedding accessories. The gown itself was already being custom–designed by three separate ateliers competing for the privilege.

Having completed his transaction, Luigi returned to the private suite and gently took her hand. “Shall we?” he asked with that self–satisfied smile that made her skin crawl.

Ariana maintained her practiced silence, allowing him to lead her from the boutique to the waiting car without resistance.

As the vehicle navigated through downtown traffic, she watched the city blur past the tinted windows, her expression betraying the desperation she fought to contain.

She had no desire to marry Luigi Maggiore. The very thought made her physically ill.

seemed impossible. Every exit was watched, every message monitored, every potential

to be forced into marriage with the man who had methodically tortured her for years? The legal implications seemed absurd in modern America, yet her reality suggested otherwise.

lap until her knuckles turned white from the

wedding date approached,

Final Revenge Pirouette:

Chapter 21

afternoon schedule to take her to dinner at an exclusive

lit up with what appeared to be a genuine

emergency.

join you

for what had become a customary goodbye

head, causing his lips to land on her cheek instead of their

darkening briefly in his expression before his practiced smile returned. Without comment, he exited the vehicle.

purse for

frantically dug through her antibacterial wipes, scrubbing at her cheek with such violence that the skin reddened

Only w

raw and stinging did she finally discard the

restaurant’s private dining room stood nearly empty during the early dinner service, with Ariana seated alone by the panoramic windows. Security personnel

men, supposedly protecting her, were in reality her jailers, ensuring she couldn’t

picked half–heartedly