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

Chapter 239: Retire to be a Rich Housewife?

Aria threw herself into his arms.

Damien caught her effortlessly. He wrapped one arm securely around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

"Are you okay?" Damien murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I literally sprinted through traffic," Aria sighed, resting her cheek against his dress shirt. She looked up at him, her emerald eyes filled with despair. "And I did it for nothing."

Damien brought a hand up to smooth a tangled, rose-gold curl behind her ear.

"You are vastly underestimating your own impact, Mrs. Sinclair," Damien told her smoothly. "You do not need a conference room to hold a press conference. Right now, you are the most famous, highly searched woman on the planet."

Aria blinked, tilting her head. "...But the media already left."

"They will come back," Damien stated. "If you walk into the most populated, high-traffic location in this city right now, within five minutes, every camera lens in a twenty-mile radius will be trained directly on your face. You just have to cause a scene."

Zoe, who was still sitting on the carpet, gasped. Her eyes blew wide as she scrambled to her feet, brushing off her suit.

"Grand Central Station," Zoe breathed. "It’s 3:30 PM. The early evening commuter rush is just starting. If we walk into the main terminal..."

Aria’s eyes lit up.

"Yes," Aria grinned, stepping out of Damien’s hold. "Yes, let’s do it."

"Wait, freeze!" Zoe yelled, throwing her hands up. "You are not walking into the most photographed transit hub in North America looking like that!"

Zoe unzipped her tote bag, pulling out a large MAC cosmetics bag.

"Sit," Zoe commanded, pointing to one of the few upright folding chairs. "I have exactly five minutes to revive your contour and powder away this sweat before we hit the streets."

Aria obediently dropped into the chair. Zoe immediately descended upon her with a Beautyblender and a hand of setting powder.

Damien watched them for a moment, then he checked his Rolex. "I have to go," he announced quietly.

"What?" Aria asked, swatting Zoe’s hand away and looking at her husband. "Where are you going?"

"I need to meet Richard," Damien explained, his jaw tightening. "I need to get to the bottom of how that audio was recorded and leaked."

Aria’s breath hitched.

She ignored Zoe’s annoyed sigh. She stood up and closed the distance between herself and Damien, grabbing him by the lapels of his shirt.

She tugged him downward, forcing him to lean in so close that their lips were practically brushing.

"You think it’s them, don’t you?" Aria whispered, her voice dropping so low that Zoe, who was organizing her makeup brushes ten feet away, couldn’t hear a single syllable.

"It is likely them," Damien murmured against her lips, his golden eyes darkening. "Planting a bug inside one of my vehicles is no easy feat."

Aria swallowed hard.

"They can’t kill me," Aria whispered, her grip tightening on his shirt. "So now they’re trying to destroy my career."

Damien’s hands came up, cupping her face. His thumbs gently stroked her cheekbones.

"I will not let them ruin your career," Damien vowed. "I’ll find the leak. Leave it to me."

Aria nodded slowly, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn’t let go of his shirt. She knew he was the untouchable Damien Sinclair, but the thought of the Vipers made her chest ache with anxiety.

"Be careful," Aria pleaded softly.

"I’m always careful," Damien murmured.

He leaned down and kissed her.

He broke the kiss, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, and then kissed the back of her hand.

"I love you," Damien whispered.

"I love you too," Aria breathed.

The second Damien left, Zoe let out a dramatic, swooning sigh.

"God, romance is alive and well," Zoe gushed, clutching her makeup brushes to her chest. "He looks at you like he wants to build a shrine in your honor."

Zoe’s dreamy expression suddenly morphed into a smirk. She stalked back over to Aria, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Speaking of romance," Zoe purred, tapping her contour brush against her chin. "Did you order the items yet? Have you given him his special reward?"

Aria’s entire face flushed red.

She threw herself back into the folding chair, avoiding Zoe’s interrogating gaze. "No! I haven’t ordered anything yet! I haven’t had the time!"

"Aria!" Zoe gasped. "You cannot tease a man like Damien Sinclair with an IOU! You’re stalling!"

"I am not stalling!" Aria lied defensively, her voice pitching up. "It’s just... risky, okay? What if I do it wrong and he hates it? What if it’s too weird?"

"Aria, that man would literally let you run him over with a tractor if it meant you smiled at him," Zoe scoffed, violently powdering Aria’s nose. "He will appreciate anything you do. Even if it’s just mundane, vanilla sex. He’s obsessed with you."

"I don’t want mundane!" Aria argued, her cheeks burning. "I want to step out of my comfort zone. I want to blow his mind. I just... I need to hype myself up first."

"Well, hype faster," Zoe commanded, capping her setting spray.

Ten minutes later, Aria and Zoe stepped out.

Their jaws dropped.

Parked bumper-to-bumper along the curb was a fleet of six blacked-out, armored SUVs. Standing at attention, forming a wall of muscle, Kevlar, and dark sunglasses, were two dozen Sinclair operatives.

It looked like a SWAT team waiting for a presidential escort.

"Holy shit," Zoe whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the private army. She turned to Aria, looking genuinely bewildered. "Aria, why are you even working? Why do you want to act? You could literally retire right now, be a pampered socialite, and just day-drink on a yacht for the rest of your life."

"My mother loved the arts," Aria explained, a bittersweet smile touching her lips as she looked out at the city traffic. "Acting is the only way I can keep her legacy alive. Plus, I actually enjoy it, you know?"

Zoe reached out and tightly squeezed Aria’s hand. "Well," she smiled fiercely. "Let’s go save your career, then."

They climbed into the lead SUV.

When the motorcade pulled up to the curb outside the iconic transit hub, the sheer scale of Damien’s security detail immediately drew stares.

"Positions," the lead guard barked into his earpiece.

The operatives poured out of the vehicles, forming a diamond formation around Aria.

They marched through the massive, arched doors and into the Main Concourse.

It was 4:15 PM. The station was a sprawling, echoing cavern of thousands of commuters, tourists, and businessmen rushing toward their trains beneath the famous celestial ceiling.

"Go," Aria whispered to Zoe.

Zoe pulled out her iPhone, held it up high, and hit ’Go Live’ on Instagram.

People naturally began to step aside, intimidated by the wall of dark suits. And then, somebody looked past the guards.

"Is that... Aria Sinclair?" a teenager gasped, pointing a finger.

The whisper caught like wildfire.

"Oh my god, it is her!" "Record this! Get your phone out!"

Within thirty seconds, the evening commute completely ground to a halt. The sea of humanity swarmed, crushing in from all sides. Hundreds of smartphone cameras shot into the air, the flashbulbs lighting up the concourse like a rave.

The operatives locked their arms together, forming a barricade of muscle to keep the screaming, frantic crowd exactly six feet away from Aria.

Zoe watched the viewer count on the livestream skyrocket past two million in real-time.

Aria stopped right in the center of the terminal, directly beneath the famous opal glass clock. She took a deep breath. Aria stood tall, rolling her shoulders back. She opened her mouth, fully prepared to deliver the monologue of a lifetime.

"I know there have been rumors—" Aria began, her voice projecting clearly over the deafening noise of the crowd.

Suddenly, a violent blur of motion erupted from the center of the mob.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

Arcing high over the heads of the screaming commuters and the barricade of Sinclair operatives, was a large, overripe tomato, and it was flying directly toward her face.