The 99th Game Was Mine All Along novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

A crowd had gradually formed around them. 

Tyler, Blake, Derek, and Josh stood nearby, faces etched with horror and genuine remorse. Leila hovered at the edge, her eyes flickering with jealousy and bitter resentment. 

Countless others watched with sorrowful gazes. 

Luigi acknowledged none of them. 

A single devastating fire had transformed Boston overnight. 

Within forty–eight hours, every family connected to the “prank” found themselves under brutal attack from the Maggiore empire. Their businesses raided, their reputations destroyed, their futures obliterated. 

Their sons–Luigi’s former friends–now locked in the soundproofed basement of his family’s estate, subjected to his unrelenting rage. 

Luigi had become something feral, something primal, delivering blow after merciless blow to the ment cowering on the concrete floor. 

“WHY THE FUCK WERE THERE GAS CANS IN THAT HOUSE?” he roared, his knuckles split and bleeding. voice barely recognizable. “ANSWER ME!” 

“Why did your pussy–ass security run without her?” Another devastating punch landed on Tyler’s already disfigured face. 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU GET HER OUT? WHY IS SHE DEAD WHILE YOU WORTHLESS PIECES OF SHIT ARE ESS PIECES OF SHIT ARE STILL BREATHING?” 

Each question punctuated with violence, as i 

hurting them might somehow lessen his own guilt–as if avenging Ariana could absolve him of being the one who ultimately led her to her death. 

According to their original “hilarious prank,” Ariana was never supposed to be in actual danger. 

As a precaution, they had stationed men inside to protect her. If the fire got out of control, those men 

were supposed to rescue her immediately. 

But somehow, the abandoned house had been rigged with gasoline containers they hadn’t put there. 

Somehow, the security they’d hired had prioritized saving themselves. 

Somehow, in their panic to escape the unexpected intensity of the blaze, they had forgotten Ariana 

entirely. 

The men on the ground were barely recognizalde, their fares pelverized by Longe rage, barely able to form coherent words through swollen lips and broken teeth 

“Please, L. Luigi,” Hake sobbed, blood pouring from his nose. We fucked up we know we forked up. 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Derek whimpered, curled into a protective ball. The fire it was Just supposed to scare her…” 

“We’ll do anything.” Tyler groaned, one eye swollen completely shut “Anything you want, man just don’t kill us…” 

“My dad will pay whatever you want,” Josh begged, dragging himself across the floor. “Please, please we’ve been friends since kindergarten…” 

More than a dozen bloodied men knelt before him, pathetic in their terror, foreheads pressed to the concrete in supplication. 

But the man standing over them seemed beyond reason, beyond humanity. When he finally spoke, his voice was terrifyingly flat–the calm of a predator who has already decided the fate of its prey. 

“Friends?” Luigi almost laughed, the sound hollow and chilling “You want me to spare you because we were friend Did you spare her? Did any of you worthless fuckers think about her for one second?” 

He moved toward the door. 

“L–Luigi, PLEASE!” They scrambled after him, leaving bloody handprints on the floor. 

“Go explain yourselves to Ariana in hell.” 

Amid their terrified screams, the basement door slammed shut with terminal finality. 

When Luigi emerged upstairs, covered in their blood, Leila rose quickly from the Italian leather sofa where she’d been waiting. 

“Luigi…” she began, attempting her usual delicate tone. 

Her words died when she saw the extent of the carnage covering him, her face freezing in naked fear. 

Luigi ignored her completely, turning instead to his family’s longtime butler. 

“Has my wife’s burial plot been prepared?” His voice was raw from screaming. 

“Wife?” Leila echoed, staring at him in theatrical disbelief. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?” 

k Swart’s Final Revenge Pirouette: The 99th & 

She rushed forward, manicured nails digging into his arm, her eyes wide. “I’m your future wife, and I’m very much alive! Have you completely lost it?” 

Looking at the woman before him, Luigi’s eyes filled with cold disgust. 

How had he never noticed how self–absorbed and manipulative Lella truly was? 

“Leila,” he said, each word precise and final, “my wife is not you. It’s Ariana.” 

That simple statement drained all color from her perfect face. “You’ve literally gone insane!” 

“What kind of wife was that pathetic nobody? Have you forgotten who she was–some scholarship charity case who stole what was rightfully mine? Don’t tell me you actually fell for that basic bitch!” 

Leila should have seen this coming. Since Ariana’s death, Luigi had transformed completely. 

He had unleashed ruthless vengeance on everyone involved in harming her, while shutting himself away, refusing to let authorities take Ariana’s remains, keeping her with him day and night. 

Even Leila, publicly acknowledged as Luigi’s inevitable wife, could barely get him to answer her calls.