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

Breakfast ended with the sharp scrape of Grandfather Sinclair’s chair against the marble floor.

”Damien,” the patriarch commanded, standing up and leaning heavily on his silver-headed cane. ”The study. We have quarterly projections to discuss. Your uncles are waiting.”

He looked at Lucas, who scrambled to stand up, wiping egg yolk from his lip, eager to join the ”men’s club.”

”Not you,” Grandfather snapped. ”This is for the adults. Go... play outside.”

Lucas flushed a deep, humiliating crimson. He sank back into his chair as Damien stood, buttoning his jacket. Damien caught Aria’s eye, a silent question in his gaze: Will you be okay?

Aria winked at him over her teacup. Go.

”The ladies will retire to the Solarium,” Diana announced, her voice tight.

Ten minutes later, Aria found herself trapped in a glass cage filled with poisonous flowers.

The Solarium was beautiful, suffocatingly hot, and smelled of humid earth and expensive perfume. Aria sat in a wicker chair in the corner, her legs crossed, scrolling on her phone.

She had no intention of socializing. She had opened a private browser tab and was deep into a translated article from an obscure French crime blog: The Fall of the House of Orpheus: A Decade of Silence.

”The syndicate dissolved after the disappearance of the heir...” Aria read silently. ”Rumors of a hidden ledger... The Vipers seized control of the Marseille ports...”

”She’s rude, isn’t she?”

The voice broke her concentration. Aria didn’t get to finish the paragraph, but she didn’t look up. Instead, she swiped away from the article and opened Instagram, tapping on a trending video of a Sabrina Carpenter concert. A catchy pop intro tinkled softly from the phone speakers, cutting through the chatter of the room.

She watched the tiny figure on the screen dance, completely ignoring the women staring at her.

Diana sat on the main sofa, looking like a queen in exile. Catherine sat beside her, and then there were the new additions—the extended family who had arrived while Aria was busy breaking the bed with her husband.

Aunt Beatrice, a woman with a face pulled so tight she looked surprised to be alive, sniffed loudly.

”New money usually is,” Beatrice said, sipping her tea. ”They don’t understand the value of conversation. They prefer their little screens.”

”And her clothes,” Cousin Eloise chimed in. Eloise was nineteen, wore too much designer logo print, and clearly worshipped Bella Vale’s Instagram feed. ”Did you see the feathers she wore yesterday?” She snorted, ”It looked like a Muppet exploded.”

They laughed. It was a cruel, exclusionary sound.

Aria tapped ’Like’ on the concert video. She didn’t look up.

”You’re disturbing me,” Aria said pleasantly, her eyes still glued to the choreography on her screen. ”You might want to whisper if you’re going to be boring.”

”Boring?” Catherine gasped. ”We are discussing culture. Something you wouldn’t know about. Tell me, Aria, do you even know who composed La Traviata? Or do you only know the lyrics to TikTok songs?”

”Verdi,” Aria said instantly, scrolling to the comments section. ”And the libretto is by Piave. It’s about a courtesan who has more integrity than the hypocritical society that judges her. Sound familiar?”

Catherine’s mouth clicked shut.

”Don’t bully her!”

Lucas stormed into the Solarium. He looked miserable, though he was dressed in a clean, tailored linen suit that fit the setting.

”Leave her alone,” Lucas said, stepping between Aria and the wall of women. He puffed out his chest, trying to salvage some dignity after being refused a seat at the men’s table. ”She’s a guest. You’re being mean.”

The women stared at him.

”Lucas,” Diana hissed. ”Sit down. Stop embarrassing me.”

”I’m defending her!” Lucas insisted, looking back at Aria with a ’look at me, I’m a hero’ expression. ”Aria, ignore them. They’re just jealous. Come with me. We can go for a walk.”

Aria watched a transition video on her feed. She didn’t spare him a glance.

”Lucas,” she said, her voice tired. ”You’re blocking my light. Move.”

Lucas wilted. ”But—”

”I don’t need a knight, Nephew,” Aria said, watching the loop again. ”Especially not one who folds so easily.”

She finally locked her phone, the music cutting off mid-chorus. She slipped it into the pocket of her Gucci robe and stood up. The silk fluttered around her bare legs. She walked toward the group of women, her heels clicking on the tile.

”You want to talk?” Aria asked. ”Let’s talk. But let’s talk about something interesting. Like your health.”

She stopped in front of Aunt Beatrice. She leaned down, her eyes scanning the woman’s face.

”You have a tremor in your left hand,” Aria noted. ”And a grey undertone to your complexion. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, that indicates a severe Kidney Jing deficiency caused by chronic fear. What are you afraid of, Beatrice? Is your husband spending too much time with his ’personal assistant’ again?”

Beatrice dropped her teacup. It shattered on the floor. ”How dare you!”

Aria moved to Cousin Eloise.

”And you,” Aria said, tapping her own chin. ”Breakouts along the jawline and meridian stagnation. That’s Damp-Heat accumulating in the lower Jiao. It’s usually from diet pills and stress. Be careful, Eloise. You’re destroying your fertility before you’re twenty-five.”

Eloise gasped, covering her face.

Aria turned to Diana. Her sister-in-law glared at her, clutching her wine glass like a weapon.

”And Diana,” Aria sighed. ”The whites of your eyes are yellowing, and your Qi is stagnant. It explains the bitterness and the rage outbursts. You’re poisoning yourself with that wine because you’re lonely, but no amount of Pinot Noir is going to make your brother love you the way you want him to.”

She turned finally to Catherine.

Catherine stood up, trembling. ”You are a witch.”

”And what if I am?” Aria raised a brow. She looked her up and down. ”You have so many flaws I’m not even sure what to diagnosis first, but I’d recommend giving up on my husbandand pining over a man who actually wants you.”

Aria smiled. It was radiant and terrifying.

”I prescribe silence,” she told the room. ”For all of you. Twice a day. Indefinitely.”

She stepped over the shattered teacup and walked out of the Solarium.

Lucas stood there, staring after her, his mouth open.

”God,” he whispered, a flush rising in his cheeks that had nothing to do with shame. ”She’s magnificent.”

Diana threw her wine glass at him.