I recalled how he, under Amara's influence, spread lies about me, labeling me as a jealous and twisted abuser. The entire dance world turned against me, shutting me out and making me a pariah.
In one night, I went from being a ballet star to a filthy outcast.
"Dylan," I said, my voice calm but sharp, "your biggest mistake wasn't breaking my leg. It was leaving me alive. Now the game starts again—and this time, I'm taking what's mine."
I clenched my jaw, thoughts racing. 'Dylan, Amara, everyone who stepped on me, everyone who whispered lies about me—they're all going to pay. And they're going to pay twice as hard.'
Dylan's face darkened, his expression shifting into something more menacing than before.
"Is that so?" he said, his voice laced with venom. "Then, as you wish."
Dylan didn't even look at me.
Instead, he spun toward his bodyguards, barking orders like he owned the place.
"Keep an eye on her," he snapped. "Don't let her run. Don't let her die. I don't want her leaving this hall before the night's over."
Then he turned to Amara, suddenly gentle, as if she were a delicate doll he needed to protect.
"Amara, you scared?" His voice was all warmth and sugar.
He helped her to her feet, eyes glinting with fake concern.
"Don't worry," he cooed. "We'll get you to the hospital. You and the baby are going to be fine."
Elaine's POV
Amara leaned against Dylan's shoulder, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin.
"Dylan, thank goodness for you," she cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness.
I held my breath as I watched them.
Once they finally left, I was finally able to take a moment to breathe.
However, before I could enjoy a moment of peace, the voices around me grew louder and sharper.
"A dancer missing a leg—what's the difference between her and trash? And she still thinks she's somebody now."
"Honestly, Dylan went too easy on her. He should've broken her other leg three years ago. That way, she wouldn't be out here embarrassing herself like this."
A slick-haired trust fund brat chuckled, pulling out his phone.
"Hey, remember that news clip from three years back?"
He grinned as he scrolled through his phone.
"I still have it saved. The way she was surrounded by reporters, leaning on a crutch—she looked pathetic!"
The crowd around him surged, eager to witness the spectacle.
"Let me see. How did the untouchable ballet queen end up a street rat?"