The Dancer's Ruin, The Heiress' Rise

y stomach turn. Pain was the first real thing I felt, a deep, screaming ache in my legs and a throb

e, a constant, irritating rhythm th

dows that moved and became men. Their grunts, their laughter. The blinding pain when my hea

, no

. A hospi

s al

eer, my life as a dancer, the lead role I had just secured with the most prestigious company in the c

y, voices filtering through the s

e awak

s voice, usually so warm and full

et. She' s stable, th

ed me after our mom died. My protector. Hearing them both, I felt a sma

my throat was raw, and

ning, for the comfo

rds froze the b

piratorial whisper. "They did exactly what we paid them to do. Maybe a

the floor had dropped out from un

d who? The men

mishearing. The head injur

embling. "I saw what they did to her. Her legs..

nk about what's at stake. The inheritance. Sophia's future. That dance p

le, quiet girl who had shown up a few months ago,

sister," Cal

spot in that company. It was meant for Sophia, not for your little sister who just happened to be in the right place at the right tim

f the heart monitor seemed to grow louder, fas

hallucination.

my everything, had done this to me. They had hired those men. They had watched me climb, supporte

way. "Mr. Hayes? Mr. Miller? I have the res

he rustle

in concern is the damage to her right leg. Multiple complex fractures to the tibia and fibula, and severe

ashed over me. My

f any emotion. "What do you mean, save it? W

bout whether she will be able to walk without a permanent, significant limp. The nerve damage is extensive. The best-case scenario involv

le

roar of anger at the doctor for saying such a t

t out a slow, quiet breat

said, a strange finality in h

tor said softly. "I know

enly smooth again. "Just... do what you can. But we don't have the funds for any ex

vel of trauma, aggressive surgical intervention is h

ice cut in, flat and dead. "

but to a life of pain and disability. They were blocking th

handle

cing my body to go limp, my

me. The beeping accelerated, a franti

y hand. Ethan' s hand. He held it, but there was no warmt

hand, my loving fiancé, and my brother standing in the doorway, my f

closed eyelid and traced a pat

le, an uncontrollable shiver of pure, undiluted rage and a horr