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

Aria immediately whipped her body toward the mirrored wall, violently burying her face into her elbow as if fighting off a lethal strain of tuberculosis.

”Oh, excuse me,” Aria coughed, pitching her voice up into a strange, raspy, vaguely Midwestern accent. She kept the side of her face firmly hidden behind the cascading mess of her rose-gold hair.

”No worries! Cold season is the worst,” Jade smiled brightly, completely oblivious to the sheer, suffocating tension radiating from the man in the mustard sweater next to her.

Jade looked down at the control panel. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

”Wow,” Jade murmured, leaning closer to inspect the polished steel buttons. ”This elevator is so much fancier than the other ones. Are they upgrading the lifts? There are so many extra buttons here.”

Aria cleared her throat, keeping her face aggressively angled away. ”Yeah. Renovations. Crazy stuff.”

”What floor are you guys heading to?” Jade asked politely, reaching a finger out to the panel.

Aria panicked. The penthouse was the top floor only accessible via biometric override. If she said the top floor, Jade would instantly know they weren’t just random guests.

”Forty!” Aria blurted out.

Jade smiled, pressing her own button. ”Oh, I’m going up to the residential suites on sixty-five. I’ll just press yours for—.”

Aria’s eyes went wide.

”I meant seventy!” Aria corrected frantically, letting out a loud, highly unnatural chuckle. ”Floor seventy! We got a... room upgrade. Because of my husband’s stomach issues. They wanted him closer to a bathroom.”

Damien let out a low hiss through his teeth.

”Oh, seventy! Got it.” She pressed the button. ”It really is a gorgeous hotel, isn’t it? The amenities are incredible. The thread count on the sheets alone is life-changing.”

As Jade continued to babble cheerfully about the complimentary toiletries, Damien felt like his skin was actively crawling off his bones.

He was trapped.

The forty-pound synthetic fat suit was a literal sauna. The mustard argyle sweater was actively chafing the sensitive skin of his neck. His mind was replaying the horrifying memory of the coughing man on the bus, and now, he had to listen to this relentlessly chipper woman talk about shampoo while the elevator moved at a snail’s pace to maintain the illusion of a normal floor stop.

The sensory overload was absolute torture. A blinding, sharp spike of neural pain drove itself directly behind his left eye.

”And the room service?” Jade continued, looking over her shoulder at them. ”Honestly, I had the truffle fries yesterday, and they were—”

”Would you shut up?!” Damien roared.

The sheer, booming, terrifying force of his voice echoed violently off the mirrored walls of the elevator.

Jade gasped, physically jumping backward until she hit the control panel, her eyes wide.

Aria’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull. She immediately spun around and aggressively grabbed Damien’s padded bicep, digging her fingers into the foam.

”Honey! Manners!” Aria scolded, slapping his arm hard.

She turned to Jade, pasting on a frantic, apologetic smile, laying her fake accent on thicker than ever.

”I am so, so sorry, sweetie,” Aria laughed nervously, rubbing her husband’s arm like he was a rabid dog. ”His migraine is just terrible right now! The bad street meat gave him the runs and a massive headache. He literally can’t control his temper when he’s sick. He doesn’t mean it!”

Jade clutched her phone to her chest, her heart hammering. ”N-No, it’s okay. I talk too much. I’m sorry.”

She turned back around, but the silence only lasted for about three seconds before she literally couldn’t help herself. She leaned slightly backward, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial, hushed whisper.

”Are you holding a wig?” Jade whispered, eyeing the brown synthetic mess in Aria’s hands.

”Uh, yeah. Cosplay,” Aria gave a vague, dismissive wave.

”Right,” Jade nodded, completely accepting that answer. She sighed heavily, dropping her shoulders. ”You guys must have had a rough night. Honestly, my brother is having a terrible week too. His friend... well, his co-star, Aria Sinclair? She’s battling for her life in the hospital right now.”

Aria pressed her lips together so hard they turned white.

”It’s just so tragic,” Jade continued to gossip, utterly oblivious to the fact that she was spilling tea directly into the teapot. ”Her husband, the Demon King? He’s a total monster. Everyone online knows he probably pushed her off that bridge. It’s sickening what men like him get away with.”

”Oh, wow,” Aria responded, her voice perfectly tight. ”That’s crazy. I don’t really know them. I don’t follow pop culture. You shouldn’t believe everything on the internet, though.”

”I guess,” Jade sighed, looking at the floor numbers ticking up.

Ding.

The elevator slowed to a smooth halt on floor sixty-five. The heavy steel doors slid open.

Jade stepped out into the plush, carpeted hallway. She turned back around, offering them a bright, genuine smile.

”Well, I hope your husband feels better!” Jade waved cheerfully. ”Have a good night!”

”You too!” Aria waved back.

The doors slid shut.

The second the metal sealed them in, Aria let out a massive exhale.

”Note to self,” Aria mumbled, leaning back against the glass. ”Never, ever tell that woman a secret. She is genuinely very sweet, but she will literally broadcast a secret to a brick wall if it’ll listen.”

Damien let out a harsh, ragged groan, pulling at the collar of his sweater as if it were choking him. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain.

He stepped forward and reached up to the top corner of the control panel, sliding back a seamless, hidden piece of metal to reveal a biometric scanner. He leaned over, letting the red laser sweep across his retina.

Override accepted. Proceeding to Penthouse.

The elevator immediately accelerated, shooting upward with its usual, stomach-dropping speed.

The doors opened directly into the pristine, marble foyer of the Sinclair Penthouse.

Damien didn’t even wait for the doors to fully open.

He grabbed the hem of the mustard argyle sweater and violently yanked it over his head, tossing it aside.

He unstrapped the heavy, forty-pound synthetic fat suit, letting the expensive foam padding drop to the marble floor with a heavy thud. He unbuckled his belt with frantic, desperate movements, stepping out of his trousers, and then completely stripped off his boxer briefs.

Within ten seconds, He was standing in the middle of his entryway, completely and flawlessly naked.

Aria’s face instantly flushed atomic red. She stood frozen, staring at the sheer, terrifying perfection of his physique under the bright foyer lights.

”Damien, what are you doing?!” she squeaked, covering her eyes with her hands but leaving a massive, shameless gap between her fingers.

”I am contaminated,” Damien panted, his chest heaving as he backed away from her. The sensory overload from the bus, the heat of the fat suit, and the sheer volume of humanity he had endured were pushing his neural disorder into the red zone. The migraine was blinding.

He pointed a commanding finger at her.

”Do not touch me...” Damien ordered, his voice raw with pain and disgust. ”...until you’re naked.”

Aria saw the genuine, agonizing wince in his eyes as he rubbed his temple.

She blushed furiously, immediately unbuttoning the oversized trench coat and letting it drop to the floor. She kicked off her sneakers, stripping off the baggy pants and the cheap blouse until she was standing in nothing but her lace underwear.

Damien didn’t wait for her to finish. He turned and trudged straight toward the master bathroom, desperate to scrub the disgust off his skin with scalding water.

Aria abandoned her pile of frumpy clothes in the foyer, and sprinted toward the master bedroom, throwing open the nightstand drawer to grab her velvet pouch of silver needles.