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

Coco arrived at Julian’s apartment thirty minutes later, looking like a swat team leader, if swat teams wore Balenciaga and carried garment bags instead of rifles.

He burst through the door, two assistants trailing behind him with rolling racks that jingled ominously.

”I got the call,” Coco announced, dropping a massive makeup case onto Julian’s pristine coffee table. ”Emergency styling. Four men. The brief was ’Expensive Meat Market’. I brought everything.”

He looked at the four men standing in the living room.

Damien (terrifying). Julian (traumatized). Kai (eating yogurt). Ken (regretting his life choices).

”They lost a bet,” Aria explained smoothly, sipping a fresh glass of champagne she had found in Julian’s kitchen. ”A very, very big bet. And now they have to pay up.”

”I love rich people games,” Coco squealed. ”Okay, boys! Line up! Shirts off! Let’s see the merchandise!”

Kai stripped his shirt off immediately. ”I want glitter, Coco. Make me shine.”

”I can work with that energy,” Coco pointed to a rack. ”You’re giving ’Bad Boy Rocker who will ruin your credit score’. Leather pants. Low rise. And this leopard print crop top.”

”Yes,” Kai whispered, grabbing the hanger.

Ken stood frozen still in disbelief that he was in this situation.

”You,” Coco pointed a makeup brush at him. ”Shoulders. Broad. Silent type. You’re the ’Naughty Cop’. Here’s a ripped sleeveless tee and... are these vinyl trousers? Yes. Good luck with the friction.”

”I have a degree in logistics,” Ken whispered to himself. ”I manage billions of dollars in assets. I shouldn’t be wearing vinyl.”

”Go change, Ken,” Aria ordered. ”Think of the bonus.”

Ken sighed and trudged toward the bathroom.

Then Coco turned to Julian.

The lawyer was standing by the window now, looking like he was contemplating jumping.

”And you,” Coco pursed his lips. ”You have a very... delicate bone structure. Very pretty.”

”He’s the prettiest,” Aria agreed with a menacing smile. She walked over to the rack and pulled out a garment that was hardly a shirt. It was a sheer, black mesh tank top. Next to it was a spiked leather choker.

”Julian is the ’Specialty Act’,” Aria told Coco, her eyes dancing with malicious glee. ”He appeals to a very specific demographic. Make him look... available. And gay.”

”Gay?” Julian choked. ”I’m straight!”

”And look where being straight got you,” Aria reminded him. ”Robbed. Tonight, you’re batting for the other team. It’s your punishment for losing the ledger. Now, put on the choker.”

Coco clapped his hands. ”I love a challenge! Eyeliner! Lots of it! We need to bring out the tragic poet in his eyes!”

Julian looked at Damien for help. Damien just sipped his scotch, looking amused.

”I can’t change her mind, Julian,” Damien said with a shrug. ”It’s useless arguing with a vengeful woman.”

Julian grabbed the mesh tank top with two fingers, looking at it with the same revulsion one would reserve for a dead rat, and marched into his bedroom.

”Finally,” Aria murmured.

She turned to Damien.

He was watching her. He hadn’t moved to the racks. He stood in the center of the chaos, radiating a calm, dark power that made the air feel heavy.

”And you,” Aria said, walking up to him. She set her champagne down. ”You’re the Alpha. The main event. The one they pay double for.”

She grabbed a bottle of body oil from Coco’s kit.

”Shirt,” she commanded.

Damien unbuttoned his dress shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He shrugged it off, revealing the sculpted, scarred expanse of his chest.

Aria poured a pool of oil into her palm. She rubbed her hands together to warm it, then pressed them against his skin.

Damien hissed in a breath.

She massaged the oil into his pectorals, his abs, the V-lines disappearing into his waistband. Her touch was slow, deliberate, and maddening.

”You have to look shiny,” she whispered, stepping closer until her body brushed against his. ”Like a prize.”

Damien caught her wrist. He spun her around, pinning her against the garment rack. The metal rattled.

”Careful, Madam,” he growled, lowering his head so his lips grazed her ear. ”You’re touching the merchandise. You know the rules. You break it, you buy it.”

”I already bought it,” Aria smirked, looking up at him through her lashes. ”I have the receipt. It says ’Husband’.”

Damien groaned. He kissed her neck, a hard, biting press of his mouth that made her knees weak. His hand slid down to squeeze her hip.

”If I’m an escort tonight,” he murmured against her skin, ”then I’m exclusive. I only take one client. And she better be ready to pay up later.”

”I’ll tip you well,” Aria promised, running her oily hands down his arms. ”Now, let’s find you some leather. I want you in a harness.”

”Don’t push your luck, Aria.”

”Just a small one? Over a silk shirt? Please? For the aesthetic?”

From the bathroom, a sound of rubber squeaking against skin echoed loudly.

”I can’t get them up!” Ken shouted. ”My thighs are too big! I need baby powder!”

From the bedroom, Julian’s voice drifted out, sounding broken. ”Why does this choker have a leash ring?”

Kai emerged from the hallway. He was wearing the leopard crop top. His abs were glittered. He posed in the doorway.

”I look incredible,” Kai declared. ”I might quit my job.”

Aria barely glanced at him. Her attention was entirely focused on the man in front of her. She ran her oily hands down Damien’s abs one more time, her fingers slipping lower, grazing the waistband of his trousers.

Damien hissed, his hands gripping the back of the garment rack until the metal groaned.

”Aria,” he warned, his voice strained.

”What?” she asked innocently, reaching for the leather pants Coco had left for him. ”Time to put these on. They’re tight, so you might need some help.”

Damien looked at the leather pants. Then he looked down at himself. The tent in his trousers was unmistakable, straining against the fabric.

”They’re not going to fit,” he growled.

Aria followed his gaze. Her eyes widened, then darkened with a mix of triumph and heat.

”Oh,” she whispered. ”That is a problem.”

”A problem you caused,” Damien murmured, grabbing her oily hand and pressing it against the hardness. ”And a problem you’re going to fix.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. He grabbed the leather pants with one hand and Aria’s waist with the other.

”Where are you going?” Kai asked, adjusting his crop top. ”We have a schedule!”

”Wardrobe malfunction,” Damien threw over his shoulder, marching Aria toward the guest bedroom door. ”Give us twenty minutes.”