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The Faceless Ballerina

After two tragic lifetimes, the protagonist of The Faceless Ballerina faces a third chance at survival. In her first life, the billionaire Lorenzo broke her legs to keep her as a trophy. In her second, she let her sister Anna take her place, only for Anna to be returned as a frozen plaster statue. Now, as the cycle repeats, both sisters realize neither was ever his true obsession. They must uncover who Lorenzo is really watching before they are both permanently silenced.
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Chapter 3

"I need to know." I gave each word deliberate weight.

Lorenzo laughed.

"Isabella, that's you," he said gently. "The cross mark is a natural flaw in the marble. It looks exactly like the injury you had as a child. You may not remember, but I remember it clearly."

His tone was persuasive, almost sincere, but I knew my own body. I had never injured my ankle like that.

He stepped closer and reached for my cheek. I recoiled before I could stop myself.

There was a time when Lorenzo treated me well. We had known each other since childhood. When I hurt myself during training, he oversaw my care and summoned the best doctors. When rumors spread about me, he never asked who started them. He reached for his gun first.

I still could not identify the exact moment he changed.

A bitter ache rose in my throat and pulled me back to the present.

I drew a slow breath.

"If you truly care about me, why not say it plainly?" I asked quietly. "The invitation had no name."

Lorenzo hesitated for a fraction of a second.

"I know how Anna feels," he said softly. "I left your name off because I did not want to wound her pride. She is your sister, after all. I don't want the two of you turning against each other because of me."

His lips curved. "Is that why you refused? Were you jealous?"

We both knew the truth. Anna did not love him the way I once had. She loved the rivalry. As children, she fought me for jewelry, clothes, and our mother's affection. When that no longer satisfied her, she began competing with me for men.

My silence seemed to please him. He turned toward me fully, his gaze warm enough to draw someone in.

He said, "Don't overthink it. The one I have always loved is you. In three days, I'll send a car for you. Do not refuse again. I have waited far too long.

"After we marry, I'll bring you red velvet cake every day. Your favorite. What do you think?"

My heart stumbled.

Red velvet cake?

I forced a smile.

"All right," I said lightly. "I'll come. But there's no need to send a car. If Anna finds out, she'll cause trouble. I'll wear a mask. If someone sees me and tells her, it will create unnecessary drama."

Lorenzo nodded without hesitation.

"As you wish," he said. "As long as you come."

When I returned home, Anna and our mother were waiting by the door.

After I told them what had happened, Anna struck me across the face.

"Have you lost your mind?" she demanded. "You're going back to that psychopath? Was having your legs broken not enough for you?"

I pressed a hand to my cheek. For the first time, I did not argue.

I looked at both of them and spoke calmly. "The Don said someone from the Rossi family must attend the ballet."

I let the words settle before I continued.

"But it will not be either of us."