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The Broken Ballerina's Secret Paris Escape

Chapter 2 2

Word Count: 1207 | Released on: 12/01/2026

h the gaps in the blackout curtains, hittin

len and heavy, like sandpaper

her was empty. Th

ng was

ess in her knee. She rubbed the scar tissue automatica

mething on t

Centurion card. Beside

rself something nice

made of titanium. It felt cold and imp

affection, not time, not

the note again

h night was dreaming about the car crash. A rough night was

hower while fantasizing about your ex-girl

t and threw it at the trash can. It mi

Her gaze fell on the long, jagged

years

f water. The screech of ti

way. She had been "Ariella Vane" to the world then, a rising Principal Dancer at the ABT, dancing under her mother'

ixer, a "dropout" who quit college to pursue a hobby that never went anywhere. Corinna had reinforced that narrative over the years, feed

smell of searing flesh. And then th

. It had crushed The Nutcrac

, forcing the memor

soft knock

Gard

as pulled back in a severe bun, but her eyes were sof

ging her hands on her apron. "He said he has

he housekeeper. "

, ma

ho the busine

down at her shoes. "

n't ha

y, Mrs. Higgin

ed to the study-the one room in the house Fielding rarely entered bec

hogany desk and o

hovered over

the email she had been

ion – Sorbonne Universit

ght attempt to prove to herself that her brai

icked

ased to in

A city where she was just a student with a limp, not a f

ad thought about Fielding. About hi

about the sh

survivor's guilt. As long as she was here, broken and depend

buzzed o

from Fi

through a hard time. Just going to ch

even trying to hide it anymore. He was

k card on the nightstand

pt O

cked th

l confetti explod

wasn't fear. It was the adrenaline of a pri

new tab. Apartments for r

time, it was Fielding's p

her voice steady.

ou about the schedule. We have the Charity Gala in the city tomorrow night, and then the

amptons? It's barely

needs a break after the Gala. He'

phone tightened. "Wh

on the o

ssi

... and Ms

ading them first at the Gala like prize ponies. It was a power play. Or maybe he w

the dark computer screen. Her eyes

ll be ready,

at." Jessica s

l hu

g to the Hampto

en behind a row of art history textbooks. She

other had left her. Fielding knew about the fund, but he thought it was a pittance. He didn't k

d out the

hin, extending her arms in a port de bras. Her leg wouldn't allow her to

" she whispere

rfect stage f

own sta

Chapter End

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The Broken Ballerina's Secret Paris Escape

Shearwater Modern

“I traced the floral patterns on the silver candlestick, my fingertips numb from the cold of the penthouse. It was our fifth anniversary, and the Wellington steak I'd spent four hours preparing sat soggy and defeated under the dim chandelier. Fielding finally walked in at 1:00 AM, smelling of scotch and tuberose-a scent I didn't own. When I tried to touch him, he recoiled as if my fingers were acid, then disappeared into the bathroom where I heard him moan his ex-girlfriend's name with a desperate, guttural longing. The betrayal didn't end there. The next day, I found him at a luxury restaurant, watching him slide a massive pink diamond onto Corinna's finger-the same ring he'd told me was a "business investment." I stood hidden behind a frosted glass partition as his friends laughed, calling me a "lame duck" and a "depressed millstone" around his neck. Fielding didn't defend me; he calmly told them our marriage was just a "debt" he had to pay because I'd saved his life in the crash that ended my ballet career. "She's a millstone, Fielding. How long are you going to play nursemaid?" "I owe her. It's a debt. I pay my debts." When I finally confronted him, he didn't show remorse. Instead, he threatened to use his power to declare me mentally unstable and freeze my grandmother's trust fund so I'd be left "crippled and penniless" on the street. I realized then that Fielding didn't want a wife; he wanted a martyr to ease his survivor's guilt, as long as I stayed broken and dependent. He thought he'd clipped my wings for good, but he didn't know I'd been secretly studying for the Sorbonne while he was out with his mistress. As I put on my designer gown for the charity gala, I wasn't preparing for a party. I was liquidating my jewelry for untraceable cash and planning the ultimate exit. He thinks I'm his prisoner, but the countdown to my final act has already begun.”