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I Raised a Ballerina Who Destroyed Me Novel Cover

I Raised a Ballerina Who Destroyed Me

For ten years, Eliza sponsored Lara Sandfield’s ballet dreams, securing her a spot at a prestigious art school. The only condition was that Lara perform her debut in a dress sewn by her late mother, Kiara. However, during a rehearsal livestream, Lara shreds the garment, accusing Eliza of years of humiliation. Unbeknownst to Lara, the dress was woven with gold, and her success was orchestrated by Eliza’s elite connections. Now, Eliza withdraws her support, leaving the ungrateful dancer to face a future without her hidden benefactors.
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Chapter 1

I've devoted everything to sponsoring my deceased best friend's daughter, Lara Sandfield, so that she can learn dancing for the past ten years. Thanks to my efforts, she's able to get into the most prestigious art school.

My only condition is that Lara has to wear the dress that was sewn by her mother, Kiara Cruz, prior to her death, when it's time for Lara to perform her first dance after her graduation.

But on the day of the rehearsal, Lara actually starts a livestream and cuts the dress into shreds with a pair of scissors.

Tears trickle down her cheeks as she accuses me of using this torn, old dress to humiliate her and guilt-trip her for the past ten years.

"Look, everyone! This is Eliza's so-called 'blood, sweat, and tears'! She wants me to perform my first dance in this bunch of rags!

"I'm the principal dancer who has been nominated by a prestigious director! If I were to perform in this dress, it'd ruin my future! I no longer owe Eliza anything!"

As I stare at the derogatory comments aimed at me in the livestream, I leave a like there quietly.

The dress that Lara has ruined is actually woven by Kiara using gold threads back when she was still alive.

The internationally-renowned mentor, whom I've spent a fortune hiring for the past ten years, is actually my older sister, Lucy Newman, who has already retired for many years.

Meanwhile, the prestigious dance director has only given Lara the position of principal dancer because she respects Lucy far too much.

I leave a comment of my own in the livestream. "I hope you have a glorious future ahead of you."

I wonder how Lara can continue dancing, now that she's lost everything in life.

As soon as I sent the comment in the livestream chat, it was instantly drowned out by a barrage of insults.

Lara Sandfield fixed her eyes on the screen, unable to hide the contempt in her gaze.

She deliberately turned the camera toward the scraps of fabric on the ground, lifted her foot, and crushed them hard with her high heels.

Her stiletto heel dragged across the dark patterns, the abrasive sound enough to make anyone wince.

"See that? She's still throwing shade."

Lara wiped away her tears for the camera, her shoulders trembling slightly as she put on the act of someone deeply wronged.

"For the past ten years, every penny she gave me came with the air of a benefactor looking down on me. This lousy dress was nothing more than a leash she fastened around my neck, a constant reminder that I was supposed to be grateful to her for everything!"

Beside her, her boyfriend and manager, Ramon Bark, hurriedly handed her a tissue.

He sneered as he leaned toward the microphone, his voice carrying a clear warning. "Ms. Newman, Lara is now Mr. Daniel Green's principal dancer. Your emotional manipulation ends here. If you continue harassing her, we'll definitely take this to court."

The chat instantly blew up, the screen flooded with vicious comments.

"Is this old woman seriously insane? She's forcing Lara to wear that garbage just to ruin her career!"

"Don't cry, Lara. We fans are all here for you!"

"Let's find out who she is! We'll make sure everyone knows what kind of person she is. Let's see if she still dares to bully Lara after that!"

My phone started buzzing nonstop as countless unknown numbers began flooding in.

One hateful message after another popped up, filled with vile insults. Some people even sent disturbing images filled with malicious curses.

I sat there on the sofa, calmly watching the dirty scrap of fabric displayed on the screen.

Inside it were the gold threads that Kiara Cruz had painstakingly sewn in until she wore herself out.

It was the last keepsake she had left for her daughter, a final piece of protection and love. Yet now, it was being treated like trash and trampled underfoot.

I ignored the barrage of angry calls.

Instead, I pulled up my contacts and called my elder sister, Lucy Newman, who was currently overseas.

"Lucy."

My voice was calm, devoid of emotion.

"Your prized student cut up the last thing her mother left for her."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then came the sharp sound of a glass shattering.

"I'm coming back to the country immediately."

Lucy's voice was as cold as ice.

After hanging up, I turned my attention back to the livestream.

Ramon was holding up a dazzling dance costume covered in rhinestones, showing it off from every angle in front of the camera.

"Hey everyone, tomorrow is the rehearsal for Janswick Art Academy's graduation tour. Lara will be wearing this couture piece sponsored by a top luxury brand and finally leave all those painful memories from the past behind for good!"

Lara smiled through her tears, gently running her fingers over the cheap rhinestones as her eyes shone with ambition.

"Thank you for your support. Tomorrow, I will prove with the most perfect performance that I don't owe anyone anything!"

The livestream ended amid a wave of cheers.

I stared at the screen that had turned dark, a cold smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She didn't owe anyone anything?

She had probably forgotten who swallowed their pride and pulled strings to get her the recommendation letter that got her into Janswick Art Academy.

And who was it that called in a lifetime's worth of favors behind the scenes to pave the way for her to become Daniel's principal dancer?

A ding sounded.

A new email popped up in my inbox, the sender being the administration office of Janswick Art Academy.

It read, "Ms. Eliza Newman, due to the recent controversy surrounding you, the academy has decided to withdraw your guest access to the graduation tour in order to ensure the event proceeds smoothly."

I read the harshly worded email as my fingers lightly tapped against the desk.

Withdraw my access?

That dance building at Janswick Art Academy, worth five million dollars, was built entirely with my donation.

They must have forgotten who holds the most influence on the academy's board of trustees.

I rose from my seat and went to the window, gazing out at the city glowing beneath the night sky.

Lucy, the daughter you fought tooth and nail to protect, had gone completely rotten in the end. Since she thought everything you left behind was nothing but trash, I'd make sure she saw with her own eyes what would happen to her once it all slipped away.

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