Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Chapter 9 Luigi stood frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the charred remains. Time seemed to stop around him.

He became a statue amid the chaos–paramedics rushing about, police radios crackling, his friends sobbing in the background–

all of it faded to white noise The rescue workers approached with measured steps, their faces grim beneath rain soaked helmets as they carried the stretcher toward him. With solemn reverence, they placed her body at his feet.

“Mr. Maggiore,” the fire chief said softly. “we’re deeply sorry for your loss.”

The rain intensified, fat droplets splattering against Luigi’s face, mingling with tears he didn’t realize he was shedding. His legs gave way as he collapsed to his knees beside her, his eyes burning red.

His outstretched hands trembled violently as he tried to reach for her. Once, twice, three times he attempted to gather her into his arms, but his muscles refused to cooperate. Finally, with gentle guidance from a paramedic, he cradled what remained of Ariana against his chest.

Just hours ago–was it really only hours?-she had sat beside him in his car, her smile soft and knowing eyes bright with something he now recognized as farewell as she’d confessed her love one final time.

Now she lay motionless in his embrace, the girl who had once been so full of life reduced to this.

Her cold body temperature seeped through his rain–soaked clothes, sending ice straight to his core. The sensation was wrong–

Ariana had always been warm, always radiating heat like her own personal sun.

“Ariana,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stop playing games. Wake up, please? Just wake up.”

He called her name over and over, the desperate pleas of a drowning man, but she remained silent, as if she were simply ignoring him after a petty argument.

Luigi pressed his face against hers just as he used to do when he wanted her attention, not caring as blood and soot transferred from her ruined features to his skin.

Memories crashed over him in relentless waves.

There were so many things he’d never told her. So many truths he’d hidden.

The first and most profound secret was that he’d noticed her long before she ever approached him.

During freshman orientation, while everyone else had been half–asleep, his attention had been completely captured by the graceful figure dancing on stage–her fluid movements, twirling skirt, and that radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the entire auditorium.

He remembered every detail with crystalline clarity–the way the stage lights had caught in her hair, hoor her laughter had carried across the room when she’d stumbled slightly during a turn.

Noticing his captivation, his roommate had leaned over, whispering excitedly about the girl.

“That’s Ariana Collins. Dance scholarship. Supposedly turned down Juilliard. Every guy in the freshman class is already obsessed.”

His roommate had continued, but Luigi had stopped listening after her name.

Ariana Collins.

A musical name for a creature of such grace. He had silently repeated it several times, letting the syllables roll around in his mouth like fine wine.

He’d even whispered their names together once, testing how they sounded.

Ariana Collins, Luigi Maggiore.

Perfect harmony. Like they belonged together.

But he’d quickly shaken the thought away, disgusted with himself.

No–Leila was the one he’d known since childhood, the one he was supposed to love, the only one he could imagine introducing to his family.

Though Luigi had forced himself to stay committed to the idea of Leila, his eyes had constantly betrayed him, seeking out Ariana across campus like a compass finding north.

He would notice her laughing with friends on the library steps, catch glimpses of her profile as she concentrated during lectures, or find himself mesmerized by her silhouette against the sunset as she practiced dance moves on the quad.

Without his permission, his thoughts had become haunted by her.

Later, when Ariana had begun pursuing him with that endearing determination, he’d found himself tempted to give in.

Sometimes, alone in his room, he’d imagine what it would be like to say yes, to let himself have what he actually wanted rather than what he thought he should want.

But each time, he’d ruthlessly suppressed the impulse.

When Leila tearfully demanded he help her get revenge on Ariana, his first instinct had been absolute refusal.

inal Revenge Pirnuene: The 99th C “She’s not that kind of person,” he’d argued. “There must be some misunderstanding.”

He couldn’t reconcile the Ariana he’d observed–who helped strangers carry groceries and volunteered at animal shelters–with someone capable of deliberate cruelty.

But when Leila heard his defense of Ariana, she’d thrown a terrifying tantrum, even threatening to jump from their dorm roof.

He still cared for her then–or at least, he was accustomed to caring for her–and couldn’t bear the responsibility of her self–

destruction.

So he agreed to the unthinkable.

He promised Leila he would date Ariana, execute 99 acts of revenge, and then publicly humiliate her before breaking up with her.

The first time he’d hurt Ariana–telling her he’d gotten her a gift, then watching her search all night in a blizzard for something that didn’t exist–the guilt had been almost unbearable.

Seeing her return at dawn, feverish and shivering yet still smiling when she saw him, had made him physically ill But as the revenge schemes continued, he’d conditioned himself to grow numb to her pain. He’d convinced himself she deserved it, that her kindness was just an act, that hurting her was somehow justified.

Seeing Leila’s smile return had seemed worth the cost of his conscience..

Until his friends drugged Ariana and left her with those men without his permission.

For the first time in years, genuine protective fury had coursed through him, shocking even himself with its intensity.

At the time, he’d rationalized that it was just pride–after all, she was still technically his girlfriend.

If word got out that his girlfriend had been assaulted, how would that reflect on him?

But deep down, he’d known it was more. The sight of those men touching her had awakened something primal and terrifying within him.

That incident had begun to crack the walls he’d built around his feelings, though he’d still refused to. acknowledge what was happening.

Until today–when he’d left her in that house and she’d said she was looking forward to his “gift” with such heartbreaking sincerity.

ack Swan’s Final Revenge Pirouette: The 99th G Luigi had felt a panic unlike anything he’d experienced before.

Greater even than when Leila had threatened to leave him.

In that moment of hesitation before he closed the door, with her blind folded and trusting, a thousand realizations had tried to surface.

According to their original plan, after this final revenge, he would publicly expose their relationship as a sham, forcing her to apologize to Leila before everyone they knew.

Their relationship would end completely, his debt to Leila paid in full.

If Ariana showed genuine remorse, he might offer her some money as compensation for wasted years.

But in that final moment before he’d closed the door, he’d decided he wouldn’t humiliate her a after all.

He would still end things, still return to Leila as promised, but he would do it privately. He would offer Ariana a generous settlement, and they would part ways with her dignity intact.

He’d told himself this change of heart was simple kindness, nothing more.

Yet when he saw the flames engulfing the house, and his phone remained silent with no panicked calls from her...

Luigi had been consumed by a realization that shattered everything he thought he knew about himself I can’t lose her.

If she came out safely, he would give her anything–everything–she ever wanted.

Including the wish she’d once whispered against his chest on New Year’s Eve, thinking he was asleep–to become his wife..

But all of that possibility, all of that future, depended on Ariana being alive.

His unfocused eyes slowly settled on her lifeless face, the understanding crushing him with its weight.

He loved her. Had always loved her. And now she was gone.

Luigi had held Ariana countless times–carelessly, thoughtlessly, taking her presence for granted–but never as tenderly as now, never with such reverence.

He carried her through the rain for what seemed like eternity, unwilling to release her to the waiting ambulance, unable to accept that their story had ended before he’d even recognized it had begun.

In that moment, cradling her broken body in his arms, Luigi understood with devastating clarity what he We The had truly done with his cruelty:

He had des the only person who had ever truly loved him, the only person he had ever truly loved in return.

And no amount of wealth, power, or privilege could ever bring her back.