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

The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival at the penthouse level. Damien held the door open for Aria.

”Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked, guiding her down the hallway toward Julian’s door. ”Final day of filming.”

”I think so,” Aria said, adjusting her purse strap. ”It’s just the death scene reshoots and the final monologue. I can do it in my sleep. Literally, since I plan on passing out the second they call ’cut’.”

”Good,” Damien said. ”Because after this weekend, I’m booking you a spa day. Mandatory relaxation.”

He knocked on the door.

”It’s open!” Kai yelled from inside. ”Unless you’re the pizza guy, in which case, leave it and run!”

Damien pushed the door open.

Julian Cross’s apartment still looked like a glitter bomb had detonated inside a morgue.

”Why is it still sparkly?” Aria asked, stepping over a pile of discarded makeup wipes near the door. ”I thought you hired a cleaning crew.”

”I did,” Julian said from the kitchen island, where he was aggressively typing on his laptop. ”They walked in, saw the amount of body glitter embedded in the shag rug, declared it a biohazard, and quit. I’m currently waiting on a quote from a crime scene cleanup unit.”

He looked up. He was back in his usual impeccable suit, but he looked tired. There was a stray sequin stuck to his earlobe that no one had the heart to point out.

”And you brought grease,” he noted, eyeing the bags in Damien’s hands.

”Leftovers,” Damien said, dropping the bags onto the glass coffee table. ”Eat it or starve.”

Kai was already on the sofa, his laptop connected to the massive wall-mounted TV screen. He was wearing sunglasses indoors, likely to hide the evidence of his night at The Void, and he was vibrating. Literally. A pyramid of empty energy drink cans sat on the floor next to him.

”Feed me,” Kai demanded, not looking away from the screen, his leg bouncing manically. ”My blood sugar is in the negatives and my caffeine levels are lethal.”

Aria started unpacking the cold burgers and fries. She tossed a wrapped burger at Kai, who caught it one-handed without missing a keystroke. She slid a box of nuggets toward Ken, who was sitting on the floor looking like he was reconsidering his entire career path.

”Okay,” Kai said, chewing at warp speed. ”Here’s the haul.”

He hit a key.

The TV screen filled with a massive, terrifyingly complex Excel spreadsheet.

”This,” Kai announced, pointing a fry at the screen like a conductor’s baton, ”is the client list from The Velvet Room for the last six months. Cross-referenced with the booking schedules of our three suspects: Sasha, Chloe, and Veronique.”

”That is a lot of rows,” Aria noted, squinting.

”Three thousand, four hundred and twelve entries,” Kai confirmed, chugging a Red Bull. ”Marcus runs a busy shop. The problem is, most of these names are fake. ’John Smith’, ’Mr. White’, ’Valid Customer’.”

”Lazy,” Damien critiqued.

”Exactly. But every booking has a payment trail. Shell companies, offshore accounts, crypto wallets. I’ve started decrypting the financial data to find the real identities behind the aliases.”

He scrolled down. The list seemed endless.

”We’re looking for a connection to Lydia or the Vipers,” Julian said, picking up a cold fry and inspecting it before eating it. ”Anyone who booked any of the three women specifically around the time the Ledger was stolen.”

”They are all equal suspects,” Aria noted.

”It’s possible they even worked together,” Damien added.

”The algorithm can only do so much,” Kai sighed, crushing a can. ”It can flag suspicious transactions, but it can’t understand context. We need human eyes on this. We need to look for names we recognize. Business rivals. Politicians. People who shouldn’t be there.”

Damien leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ”So we have homework.”

”We have homework,” Kai agreed. ”I’ve split the list into four batches. Alpha, Beta, Charlie, Delta.”

He sent a file to everyone’s phones.

”Julian, you take Alpha. It’s mostly corporate accounts. You know the players.”

”Joy,” Julian muttered.

”Ken, you take Beta. It’s the crypto transactions. Follow the money.”

Ken nodded solemnly, unwrapping a nugget.

”I’ll take Charlie,” Kai said. ”It’s the weird stuff. Burner phones and cash drops.”

”And Delta?” Aria asked.

”Delta is the VIP list,” Kai said, looking at Damien. ”The ones who paid extra for ’discretion’. Politicians, celebrities, and old money. That’s you guys. You know the social circle better than anyone.”

Damien opened the file on his phone. He scrolled for a second.

”I recognize three board members already,” he said dryly. ”This is going to be excellent leverage for the next shareholder meeting.”

”It’s going to take all night,” Aria groaned, leaning her head on Damien’s shoulder.

She looked at the daunting list. She knew the clock was ticking. Every hour they spent staring at spreadsheets was another hour Lydia or the Vipers had to destroy the ledger or move it out of the country. It might already be ash in a fireplace somewhere.

But looking at the exhausted faces of her friends, she couldn’t ask for more.

”We don’t have to do it tonight,” Damien said, kissing her hair. ”We have the data. It’s not going anywhere. We can do it from home.”

”Agreed,” Julian said, closing his laptop. ”I need to find a way to vacuum this rug before I lose my mind. And I refuse to look at another spreadsheet until I’ve had at least eight hours of sleep.”

”Fine,” Aria said, standing up.

She looked at the group. Her team. Eating cold fast food in a glittery apartment, tired and cranky, but ready to do the boring, tedious detective work.

”Thank you,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. ”I know you’re all busy. You have lives. You don’t have to do this.”

”Don’t be ridiculous,” Kai said, opening another can. ”We’re bored. And rich. Hunting bad guys is better than golf.”

”We’ll find the time, Aria,” Julian assured her. ”We’ll get it done.”

Damien stood up, pulling Aria with him. He looked at Julian. ”Get some sleep. And call the cleaners back. Offer double.”

”I offered triple,” Julian said bleakly. ”They said the glitter was ’spiritually offensive’.”

Damien smirked. He guided Aria toward the door.

”Ready to go home?” he asked.

”Ready,” Aria said. ”I have a date with a spreadsheet and a very handsome CEO.”

Damien opened the door.

”I’ll handle the spreadsheet,” he promised, his hand resting on the small of her back. ”You handle the CEO.”