Chapter 2

While the nurse dressed my wounds, I caught fragments of conversation between Caspian and Dad in the hallway.

“Jesus, Dad,” Caspian whispered harshly, “Val’s already destroyed. Do we seriously need to leak the assault footage to TikTok and Twitter?”

After a calculated pause, Dad responded with chilling detachment.

“Post it. No reputable ballet school will touch a student with that kind of viral scandal.”

Something shattered inside me as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Am I hurting you?” the nurse asked, alarmed by my sudden reaction.

I couldn’t even form words, unable to separate the searing pain in my legs from the gaping wound in

my soul.

The two men I’d built my entire world around weren’t satisfied with breaking my body–they were methodically erasing everything I’d ever been.

My entire existence reduced to collateral damage.

Within minutes, my phone exploded with notifications. Hands trembling, I unlocked it to find clips of my torture trending on TikTok, spreading across Twitter, and dissected in gruesome detail on multiple university subreddits.

beneath them gutted

perfect at Manhattan Dance Academy. Karma’s finally

af. Constantly undermining other dancers, sleeping with instructors for

being billionaire Maxwell Dagonet watching your golden child crash and burn this

91.5%

from my lungs until I was hyperventilating, my vision tunneling as my entire

instantly performing his protective brother role. He gently covered my screen. “Jesus,

Academy Award–worthy performance beginning: “Caspian, what the FUCK? I specifically

had our tech team scrubbing everything, but someone must’ve saved footage. Don’t panic, Val–I’ve already

was flawless–practiced,

realization made bile rise in my

of blue as mine–locked onto my face with practiced sincerity: “Valentina Catherine Dagonet, listen to me. No matter what vicious lies they

“We’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt you, sis.

does.”

primary videos disappeared within

of times, reposted, remixed with cruel

had been completely obliterated. The digital assassination had worked perfectly–even if my body somehow recovered, Valentina

pristine future at SAB had evaporated like morning

chart, his expression grim: “Ms. Dagonet has sustained compound fractures to both tibias, two broken ribs, second–degree burns

her arms.”

are the facial lacerations. Fifteen distinct knife

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