The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

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.

them gutted me:

always acting so perfect at Manhattan Dance Academy. Karma’s finally caught up!

undermining other dancers,

child crash and burn this

91.5%

I was hyperventilating, my vision tunneling as my entire identity was

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

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

tech team scrubbing everything, but someone must’ve saved footage. Don’t panic, Val–I’ve already called in favors at Twitter and

was flawless–practiced, precise, and

bile rise in my throat.

his eyes–the exact same shade of blue as mine–locked onto my face with practiced sincerity: “Valentina Catherine Dagonet, listen to me. No matter what vicious lies they spread, you will always

“We’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt you, sis. That’s what family

does.”

disappeared within hours.

reposted, remixed with cruel commentary, transformed

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

had evaporated like morning mist.

returned with my chart, his expression grim: “Ms. Dagonet has sustained compound fractures to both tibias, two broken

her arms.”

hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Most concerning are the facial lacerations. Fifteen distinct knife wounds, methodically inflicted. We’re looking at significant permanent disfigurement without extensive reconstructive surgery…”