After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law

The gates of the Vale Estate groaned as they swung open, not for a limousine, but for a convoy.

Leading the charge was the black Rolls Royce, driven by Ken. Behind it rumbled two massive, pristine white moving trucks with the logo of Sinclair Logistics stenciled on the side.

Aria sat in the passenger seat of the Rolls, watching the familiar manicured lawns roll by. In her past life, coming back here had always felt like walking into a cage. Today, it felt like she was the demolition crew coming to tear the cage down.

In the back seat, Zoe was already filming, her lens pointed out the window.

”Are we sure about the trucks?” Zoe asked, adjusting her focus. ”It seems a little... aggressive.”

”Aggressive is key,” Aria replied calmly. ”If I came with a suitcase, they’d think I was negotiating. I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to liquidate.”

The convoy screeched to a halt in front of the main entrance. The front door flew open before Ken could even kill the engine.

Raymond Vale stormed out, his face a mottled purple that clashed horribly with his expensive silk robe. Behind him, a flurry of confused servants and a pale-faced Bella peered out.

”What is the meaning of this?!” Raymond roared, marching down the steps. ”You bring trucks to my house? Have you lost your mind?”

Aria stepped out of the car. She had changed into black combat boots, dark jeans, and a fitted leather jacket. She looked less like an heiress and more like a cat burglar who had upgraded to grand larceny.

”Good afternoon, Father,” Aria said, taking off her sunglasses. ”I told you I was coming to pack. I have a lot of things.”

”You are not bringing those... those laborers into my home!” Raymond spluttered, gesturing at the team of movers jumping out of the trucks. ”This is trespassing!”

”It’s not trespassing if I’m a resident,” Aria corrected, walking up the steps until she stood toe-to-toe with him. ”And actually, considering I now own 20% of the company that pays the mortgage on this estate... technically, I’m your landlord.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a frosty whisper.

”Now, you can step aside and let me get my mother’s things, or I can have my husband’s forensic accountants perform a deep-dive audit of the Vale Entertainment tax records from the last ten years. I wonder... how much embezzlement would they find in the first hour?”

Raymond froze. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click. He paled, beads of sweat instantly forming on his forehead.

Aria smiled. ”Smart choice.”

She snapped her fingers. ”Ken. Start with the library. The first editions are mine. Then the art in the hallway. If it has my mother’s signature on the purchase receipt, it goes in the truck.”

”Understood, Miss Vale,” Ken said, signaling the team.

The movers swarmed the house like a disciplined army of ants.

Aria walked past her father, who was now leaning against a pillar for support, looking like he was having a cardiac event. She didn’t spare him a glance. Her target was upstairs.

She swept through the foyer, ignoring the servants who shrank away from her. Zoe followed close behind, camera rolling.

”This is insane,” Zoe whispered, filming a mover carrying a Ming vase. ”You’re literally looting your own house.”

”Repossessing,” Aria corrected.

She reached the top of the stairs and headed straight for the Master Suite—her mother’s old room, which Raymond had turned into a guest suite for his mistress-turned-wife, Lydia.

The door was locked.

Aria didn’t knock. She raised her booted foot and kicked the lock right next to the handle.

CRACK.

The wood splintered. The door swung open.

Inside, Bella was frantically shoving jewelry boxes into a duffel bag. She jumped, dropping a diamond necklace onto the floor.

”Aria!” Bella shrieked, backing away. ”You... you broke the door!”

Aria walked into the room, her eyes locking onto the necklace on the floor. It was a vintage sapphire choker. Her mother’s favorite.

”Stealing, Bella?” Aria tsked, walking over and picking up the necklace. ”I thought the Saintess didn’t care for material things.”

”I was protecting them!” Bella lied, her eyes darting around the room. ”I knew you were coming! I didn’t want your thugs to break them!”

”My thugs are professionals,” Aria said, inspecting the sapphire. ”You, on the other hand, are just a thief. Like mother, like daughter.”

She looked around the room.

”Speaking of the Mistress... where is Lydia? I expected her to be standing guard over her stolen kingdom.”

Bella bristled, her face flushing red. ”Don’t call her that! My mother is Mrs. Vale! And she is in Paris! She’s the guest of honor at the Galeries Lafayette Charity Ball! When she comes back, you’re dead!”

Aria laughed softly. It was a cold sound.

In her past life, Lydia Laurent—Raymond’s mistress—had been the true architect of Aria’s misery. Raymond was weak and greedy, and Bella was spoiled and jealous, but Lydia? Lydia was a viper. She was the one who had whispered poison into Raymond’s ear for years. She was the one who smiled while pouring tea, plotting to have Aria committed to the asylum so Bella could inherit everything.

She was cruel in a way that left no bruises, only scars on the soul.

”Paris,” Aria mused. ”Enjoying the high life while her daughter drowns. How typical. She always did prefer champagne to parenting.”

Aria looked at Bella. Her sister was wearing a white cashmere sweater and a pearl headband, looking the picture of innocence, except for the greed in her eyes.

”Take it off,” Aria said suddenly.

Bella blinked. ”What?”

”The ring,” Aria pointed to Bella’s right hand. ”That ruby ring. It was my grandmother’s. It was left to me in the will you and Father tried to hide.”

Bella covered her hand. ”Daddy gave this to me! It fits me perfectly!”

”It fits you because you resized it,” Aria stepped closer. ”Give it to me, or I take the finger with it.”

Bella looked at Aria’s face. There was no hesitation there. No mercy.

Trembling, Bella slid the ring off her finger and slammed it into Aria’s palm.

”You’re a monster,” Bella hissed, tears welling up. ”You have everything now! You have Damien Sinclair, you have the press, you have the money! Why do you need this old junk? Why can’t you leave me anything?”

Aria closed her hand around the ring. The cold metal bit into her palm.

”Because it’s not yours,” Aria said simply. ”Tell Lydia I said hello when she calls. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear I’ve redecorated.”

She turned to Zoe. ”Film the closet. I want a record of everything that’s missing so I can bill them for it.”

Zoe stepped forward, camera raised. ”Smile, Bella! You’re on ’Hoarders: White Lotus Edition’.”

Bella let out a scream of frustration and stormed out of the room, shoving past Ken who was entering with a box.

Aria let out a long breath. She looked around the room. This was where her mother had died, and where Lydia had slept for the last ten years.

”Pack it all,” Aria told Ken. ”The furniture. The drapes. The rugs.”

Ken looked at the heavy velvet curtains. ”The drapes too, Miss?”

”Everything,” Aria said, walking to the window and looking out at the trucks below. ”When Lydia comes home, I want this room to echo.”

Two hours later, the convoy was ready to leave.

The Vale Estate looked like it had been hit by a very selective tornado. The walls were bare. The display cases were empty.

Raymond Vale stood on the porch, watching the trucks rumble to life. He looked aged, defeated, and small.

Aria stood by the Rolls Royce. She held a small wooden box in her hands—the only thing she had carried out herself. It contained her mother’s journals.

”You’ve taken everything,” Raymond rasped from the stairs. ”Are you happy? You’ve picked the bones clean.”

Aria opened the car door. She looked back at him one last time.

”Not everything, Father,” she said. ”I left you Bella. Good luck explaining this to Lydia.”

She slid into the car.

”Drive,” she told Ken.

As the car pulled away, Zoe lowered her camera. She looked at Aria, who was staring straight ahead, her face unreadable.

”You okay?” Zoe asked softly.

Aria touched the ruby ring she had slipped onto her own finger. It was loose, but it felt right.

”I’m fantastic,” Aria whispered.