Chapter 208: Your Foot Is Injured

Chapter 208: Your Foot is Injured

Cheyenne lifted her hand and took off the pearl clip that was holding

her hair up, placing it on the table. Her thick chestnut curls cascaded

down like a waterfall. She looked at Abbie with a calm yet stubborn

gaze, using her delicate fingers to unbutton her black suit jacket one by

one.

She kicked off her high heels and stepped onto the cold golden floor

with her feet painted in bright red nail polish.

"Swish."

The black suit jacket flew up into the air and opened up like a circle

before landing gracefully on a nearby chair. Everyone's attention was

drawn to Cheyenne once again as she unbuttoned the top two buttons

of her shirt, revealing smooth fair skin and delicate collarbones.

Her perfect feet were slender and elegant, adorned with a thin silver

ankle chain that made Kelvin blush at its sight. A lot of intimate scenes

came into his mind.

It was Cheyenne's nineteenth birthday, the first year after they had

married. She had been pestering him to buy it for her.

Initially, he hadn't wanted to purchase it, but he couldn't stand to see

her eyes lose their luster. Under the temptation, he had driven back to

buy it.

That night, after the passionate moment, she fell asleep by his side.

Kelvin had contemplated it for a moment, and before leaving, he took

the anklet from his pocket and placed it next to her pillow.

He hadn't expected her to still be wearing it.

As his mind wandered, Cheyenne's gaze turned slightly cold, and she

pulled the white tablecloth from the table. There was a loud "thud", and

the white cloth fell into her hand, while everything else on the table,

including the glasses, plates, and candles, remained perfectly in place.

It was a move that left people astonished.

How had she managed to do that?

With just one snap of Cheyenne's fingers, she ordered the butler to

switch over to another song. As soon as Abbie heard it play out loud,

she turned pale realizing what song it was: "La Bayadere".

It was known as one of most difficult ballet pieces, even more so than

"Swan Lake", serving as inspiration for many ballet moves today. Just

moments ago, Cheyenne had mentioned that Abbie didn't finish 32

single-leg rotations, and now she was elegantly performing 32 flawless

turns without any ballet shoes on!

This felt like a slap in Abbie's face!

Just a moment ago, she was feeling proud of herself for being able to

outshine Cheyenne in ballet dance. But now, she found herself

defeated.

In "La Bayadere", not only were there elements of Western ballet, but

also the mystery of Eastern Indian dance. The segment that Cheyenne

performed was the scene where the female lead met her lover in a

dream after being betrayed by him.

The emotional entanglement between them was expressed through her

movements. As the rhythm intensified, their emotions became more

complex. However, Cheyenne seemed to be at ease with it all.

She truly was a swan - always rebellious and independent as the black

swan.

Although many people in attendance did not understand ballet, they

couldn't help but admit that they were amazed by Cheyenne's

performance when watching her movements and emotions unfold

before them.

As she leapt into the air, her long hair flowed behind her like waves and

even the white tablecloth in her hand became like a sharp weapon. Her

slender legs stretched straight out as she landed softly on tiptoe after

completing thirty-two turns. Her chestnut hair and white cloth formed

two beautiful lines against each other.

Finally, as the dream faded away, that same white tablecloth turned into

the female lead's veil which fell lightly over her head like a bridal veil.

'l can't let her win so easily!" Abbie thought.

Just as Cheyenne lifted up her head to look at that piece of cloth

spinning beneath her feet; Abbie suddenly pulled off one pearl earring

from hers without leaving any trace behind and threw it towards

Cheyenne's feet.

Kelvin watched mesmerized by the figure dancing gracefully before

him, feeling angry that she had deceived him once again.

She not only excelled in calligraphy, chess, but she could also paint

and dance... yet she insisted on portraying herself as a spoiled brat.

Why? Were all those previous confessions true or just part of an act?

Was she pretending just so she would hate her?

He refused to accept being deceived again! He stood up with his glass

filled with red wine, taking big strides towards the beautiful woman.

But just after taking two steps, Kelvin saw Abbie's sneaky movement;

that pearl rolled down along with his mood until finally landing at

Cheyenne's feet. She stood near enough to the table which made

Kelvin nervous because if she slipped over, her head would surely hit

hard against its edge .

Kelvin felt anxious inside while silently calling out, "Cheyenne! Be

careful"

It was too late...

Her foot had stepped up, and her body was uncontrollably leaning

forward.

"Cheyenne, be careful!” Old Mr. Foley was also frightened and quickly

reminded her.

If Cheyenne fell down, she would lose the game. Abbie and Emelia

looked at each other with a gloating expression in their eyes.

However, Cheyenne was tougher and smarter than they had imagined.

She smiled and smoothly fell down with her back foot landing on the

table just as she was about to hit it.

Taking advantage of the empty space provided by the table, she leaped

into a split in mid-air before landing firmly on the ground. The white lace

tablecloth hung over her head like a bridal veil frozen in time.

If it weren't for blood gradually seeping out from under that white cloth,

Kelvin would have applauded her perfect leap and incredible

adaptability.

But all these praises came at the cost of her foot injury.

Upon closer examination, one of the highball glasses at the edge of the

table was shattered, and Cheyenne's foot...

He walked over furiously with an overwhelming aura like a rising tide

that scared off those around him who made way for him one after

another.

He looked down upon the young girl before him.

At this moment, he seemed to see how she looked wearing a white

wedding dress at their wedding ceremony; the difference was that back

then, she had worn a smile of warmth and shyness, while now, all that

remained was an air of indifference. This feeling left him deeply

unsettled. This version of Cheyenne was far beyond his control.

"Mr. Foley? Are you angry because I beat your fiance?" She sneered

while slowly standing up using only one hand for support right before

his face as if mocking him; then taking off that white lace tablecloth

draped over herself.

Bending slightly without any expression on her face, she pulled out

glass shards from underfoot, then threw them aside.

Walking out with her bare feet, she left behind vivid red bloodstains on

the golden floor, making for a striking sight. Cheyenne had just started

to slip her feet back into her high heels when, all of a sudden, he lifted

her into his arms.

"Kelvin! If you're sick, go take some medicine! Put me down!"

"Don't fuss around; your feet are injured.” His voice filled with alcohol

rang in her ears low-pitched yet magnetic leaving no room for refusal.