The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

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Chapter 8

[This girl is PSYCHO. How tf is she only 19?!?]

[Someone LOCK HER UP! This isn’t just bullying, it’s attempted MURDER!]

Under the tsunami of public pressure, Shane and his crew finally cracked. In a hastily arranged press conference, they admitted Victoria had paid them not just to traumatize me, but to ensure I “wouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Her exact instructions: make it look like an accident.

This bombshell detonated across social media. Dozens of former classmates emerged from the woodwork, posting their own Victoria horror stories.

“Valentina helped me learn combinations when I first transferred,” one wrote. “Meanwhile, Victoria was putting thumbtacks in people’s pointe shoes.”

Far from being her victim, I’d been her obsession–she’d sabotaged auditions, slashed my costumes, and planted rumors with visiting choreographers that had cost me professional opportunities.

The backlash was merciless. #Victoria WintersIsOverParty trended for days.

SAB released a terse statement: “The School of American Ballet maintains the highest standards of personal conduct. In

staff member’s phone captured Victoria’s meltdown when she received the news.

LOVE HER?!” she shrieked, hurling a vase against the

to an unhinged pitch. “She stole everything from me! Everything that should have been MINE! I should have been Maxwell Dagonet’s

man for 20 years. You’re the side

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father and brother are the real villains. Imagine TORTURING your own daughter/sister because your mistress’s kid was jealous? Electric chair for all of them.”

anonymous bullying accounts, blackmail schemes, even a suspicious fire at a competitor’s apartment before a crucial

beyond Victoria to target Camilla. Someone doxxed her, leading to protesters outside her apartment building with signs reading “HOME WRECKER” and “CHILD ABUSER BY

PROXY.”

I feel vindicated? Not particularly.

simply

seeing Dad and Caspian huddled outside the Geneva clinic on my discharge day, looking

my completely reconstructed face, they recognized

cracked. His once–perfect hair had gone steel gray, his designer suit hanging

He struggled visibly. “I’ve destroyed everything. I was blind.

little. Just enough to keep you from competing with Victoria. I swear

Christ, Val, I