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

Chapter 244: Minimum Wage Looks Great on You

The elevator doors glided open with a soft, melodic ping.

Aria stepped onto the imported Italian marble of the Sinclair Penthouse foyer. She walked into the sprawling living room.

The stage had already been meticulously set.

Diana was lounging on the massive white velvet sectional. Her heavily bandaged thigh was propped up on an embroidered silk pillow, and she was sipping a glass of sparkling water.

Standing dutifully beside the sofa was Bella.

Aria almost burst into laughter right then and there. Bella, who normally wouldn’t be caught dead in anything less than skin-tight latex and designer logos, was wearing a suspiciously demure, beige cashmere cardigan buttoned all the way to her collarbone, paired with a sensible midi skirt and a pearl headband. She looked like a 1950s housewife applying for a job as a governess.

"Aria," Diana stated, setting her crystal glass down on the coffee table with a sharp clack. Her voice was laced with haughty, aristocratic disdain. "We weren’t expecting you to return to the penthouse so soon."

Bella offered Aria a slow, tragically sympathetic smile that made Aria’s skin crawl.

"Welcome home, Aria," Bella cooed, her voice pitched into a breathy, delicate whisper. "I was just making Diana some tea. How are you holding up? The comments online today have just been... so brutal. I can’t even imagine how you’re dealing with the entire internet hating you right now."

Bella took a step forward, her eyes gleaming with manufactured pity. "I mean, everyone is saying such awful things about how you faked your coma. They’re calling you a sociopath. If I were you, I would be absolutely terrified of showing my face in public. Or even to Damien, honestly. How long do you think he’ll put up with a wife who is officially a global embarrassment?"

In her first life, Aria would have immediately taken the bait. The old Aria would have felt the overwhelming injustice of the situation bubble up in her chest. She would have screamed. She would have cried.

But Aria wasn’t that girl anymore.

Her eyes swept over the living room. She noted Bella’s rigid, overly still posture. She noted the way Bella had strategically positioned herself near the marble side table.

And then, Aria saw it.

Resting casually on the edge of the table was Bella’s handbag. It was unzipped just an inch. Peeking out from the dark interior, aimed directly at Aria’s face, was the unmistakable, glossy three-lens cluster of an iPhone.

It was a trap. Bella was secretly filming her. She wanted Aria to completely lose her mind, scream like a banshee, and attack her "sweet, helpful" sister in front of her injured sister-in-law. Bella would edit the footage, crop out her own provocation, and post the viral meltdown to TikTok to permanently nail the coffin shut on Aria’s career.

’Oh, honey,’ Aria thought, a wicked thrill sparking in her veins. ’You brought a butter knife to a war.’

"Bella!" Aria gasped, clasping her hands together in front of her chest like she had just seen an old friend. She marched right up to Bella, invading her personal space, and grabbed both of Bella’s hands, squeezing them tight.

Bella flinched, her eyes widening in confusion. "W-What?"

"I am just so incredibly glad you’re here!" Aria gushed, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Aria looked Bella up and down, her smile turning razor-sharp at the edges.

"Honestly, Bella, I know the box office numbers for your last indie project were a disaster, and your auditions have totally dried up," Aria sighed, her tone brimming with pity. "So seeing you pivot to a minimum-wage, domestic healthcare role is just so inspiring! Wiping bedpans and fetching tea is honest work. It’s such a smart fallback career for you!"

Bella’s jaw literally unhinged.

The color violently drained from her face, only to return in a furious, mottled shade of crimson. Her hands trembled inside Aria’s tight grip.

"I am not a maid!" Bella hissed, her voice cracking as she tried to yank her hands away. "I am here as family! To help Diana heal!"

"Oh, don’t be modest, darling," Aria purred, refusing to let go, squeezing Bella’s knuckles. "I can totally leave you a five-star review on Care.com if you need references for your next gig. Just make sure you dust the baseboards while I’m napping, okay? The cleaning staff missed a spot yesterday."

"That is enough, Aria," Diana snapped, sitting up straighter against her velvet pillows. "Bella is my guest. She is my personal caretaker. You will treat her with the respect she deserves while she is in this house."

Aria smoothly released Bella’s hands, wiping her palms on her trousers as if she had just touched something unsanitary.

She slowly turned to face her sister-in-law.

The bubbly positivity evaporated in a microsecond. The mask dropped, revealing the cold, untouchable authority of the woman who shared a bed with the Demon King.

"Of course, Diana," Aria said. "I wouldn’t dream of questioning your staffing choices."

Aria tilted her head, locking her emerald eyes onto Diana’s.

"I just have one, tiny little question," Aria hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Did Damien sign off on this hire?"

The entire penthouse went dead silent.

Diana froze.

The haughty sneer on Diana’s face shattered. A wave of genuine terror washed over her. She hadn’t told Damien. She had intentionally bypassed the strict, multi-layered background checks and security clearances required to bring a new resident into the penthouse. She had smuggled his wife’s sworn enemy into his private sanctuary entirely behind his back, purely out of spite.

"I..." Diana stammered, her hands gripping the edge of her blanket, her eyes darting nervously toward the elevator doors. "I have the right to hire my own medical staff! I am his sister!"

Aria watched the sweat bead on Diana’s forehead. She watched Bella slowly realize the magnitude of the danger she had just enthusiastically stepped into.

Aria let out a soft laugh.

"Well," she smiled, turning on her heel and heading toward the dark corridor of the master suite. "I’m going to go draw a bubble bath. You two should probably start working on your excuses."

She paused at the edge of the hallway, glancing back over her shoulder at the two terrified women.

"He’ll be home in about an hour, maybe less? I don’t know," Aria offered cheerfully. "This should be fun."