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

Chapter 245: Who Wants to Spank Bones?

Diana was leaning across the white velvet sectional, frantically whispering to Bella. The two of them were huddled over the glass coffee table, staring at the physical copy of Bella’s employment contract like it was a sacred, protective talisman.

"When he walks out of that elevator, you do not speak," Diana hissed, her manicured finger tapping the paper. "You let me do the talking. I am his sister. He will be angry about the security breach, yes, but I know how to handle him. Just keep your head down and look useful."

Bella nodded rapidly, chewing on her lower lip.

"Are you sure he won’t just throw me out?" Bella whispered, wringing her hands.

"Aria is an idiot who thinks a marriage license makes her royalty," Diana scoffed, cutting her off. "She doesn’t know him like I do."

Squeeeeak. Thump. Squeeeeak.

Diana and Bella snapped their heads up.

Aria had emerged from the master suite. She was freshly scrubbed, glowing, and dressed in a pair of oversized, baby-pink silk pajamas.

Aria was dragging a massive, fluffy, neon-pink bean bag chair by the seam. Under one arm, she had a fresh pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked ice cream tucked against her ribs, and she was clutching an ice-cold, sweating can of Coca-Cola in her hand.

"Don’t mind me!" Aria chirped cheerfully.

She dragged the bean bag right into the center of the living room, dropping it directly between the velvet sectional and the massive flat-screen television. She plopped down into the plush pink mountain, sinking deep into the fluff.

She popped the tab on her Coke can with a sharp hiss, took a sip, and picked up the TV remote.

Diana glared at her. "Aria, do you mind? We are trying to have a private conversation."

Aria didn’t even look at her. She aimed the remote at the eighty-inch screen and hit the power button. The TV flared to life. An episode of The Real Housewives popped onto the screen. Aria held her thumb down on the volume button.

The volume bar ticked up. 40. 50. 65. 80.

Suddenly, the shrill, overlapping screams of reality TV stars throwing wine glasses at each other echoed through the penthouse at concert-decibel levels.

"TURN THAT DOWN!" Diana shrieked, covering her ears. "ARIA!"

Aria scooped a massive spoonful of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream into her mouth. She turned her head, looking at Diana with wide, innocent eyes.

"WHAT?!" Aria shouted back over the deafening roar of the television. "I CAN’T HEAR YOU!"

"I SAID TURN IT DOWN!" Diana yelled, her face flushing an angry red.

"YEAH, IT IS A REALLY GOOD EPISODE!" Aria agreed brightly. She dug her spoon back into the pint, casually swinging her bare feet.

Diana looked like she was about to have an aneurysm.

Aria stretched her arms, popping her neck. "Oh, let me just set this down," she mumbled to herself.

She leaned out of the bean bag, reaching over to the glass coffee table to set her open can of Coca-Cola down.

But Aria’s hand "slipped."

The red can tipped over perfectly. A cascading, bubbly waterfall of dark brown, sticky soda flooded directly across the glass surface.

It washed right over Bella’s employment contract.

"Oopsie," Aria deadpanned, watching the dark liquid instantly soak into the paper.

"MY CONTRACT!" Diana screamed, lunging forward to snatch the ruined, dripping paper off the table. The dark soda dripped all over her pants. "You clumsy little bitch! You did that on purpose!"

"I have terrible depth perception," Aria shrugged, popping another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. "But it’s fine, right? You have the soft copy on your phone!"

Diana seethed, clutching the ruined paper. She did have the digital copy saved to her files, but she had wanted to hand Damien the physical paper. Her brother had a terrifying habit of destroying things when he was angry, and she did not trust him not to take her phone and snap it in half against the wall.

Aria sank back into her bean bag. She opened a copy of Vogue magazine she had grabbed from the side table, casually flipping through the glossy pages.

She started singing a little, upbeat, cheerful song she was making up right on the spot.

"Oh, my husband’s coming home, and he’s gonna be so mad," Aria sang happily, kicking her feet in the air to the rhythm. "He’s gonna see you on the couch, and things will get real bad. He’s gonna wrap you in a rug, and bury you in the yard~"

Bella’s eye twitched.

"You sure are eating a lot of sugar," Bella sneered, her eyes dropping to the pint of Ben & Jerry’s in Aria’s hands. "A whole pint of ice cream? Plus a regular Coke? That’s, what, two thousand calories?"

Bella offered a fake, pitying smile.

"Are you giving up on leading lady roles?" Bella jeered, crossing her arms. "I guess the industry is always looking to meet diversity quotas. They definitely need more fat people for the background shots."

Aria paused mid-bite.

She slowly lowered the spoon. She looked at Bella. She looked at Bella’s cardigan that hung loosely over her diet-restricted frame.

Aria took the bite of ice cream, savoring it dramatically, before pulling the spoon out with a soft pop

. She winked at her sister.

"Don’t worry about my calorie intake, Bella," Aria purred smoothly. "Luckily for me, every single bite of this goes straight to my ass and my hips."

Aria leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping into a sultry, cocky whisper.

"My husband actually prefers a little flesh," Aria told her, her emerald eyes glinting with mocking amusement. "I mean, who wants to spank bones? You look like you’d shatter into dust if a man actually touched you. You should really eat a carb, honey. It might cure that miserable personality."

Bella’s face turned a humiliated shade of green. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Sitting next to her, Diana’s mouth actually twitched.

Diana desperately wanted to lean over that coffee table, wipe the cocky smile right off Aria’s face, and scream, ’He doesn’t want you, you idiot! He has a mistress!’ It took every ounce of Diana’s willpower to bite her tongue.

’Not yet,’ Diana told herself, her chest heaving. ’Let her be cocky. When Damien gets here, I’ll play my wild card. He’ll overlook the background check breach for me.’

PING.

The soft, melodic chime of the elevator echoed through the penthouse foyer.

The atmosphere in the living room shifted in a microsecond. The air suddenly felt ten degrees colder.

Aria immediately sat up in her pink bean bag. She tossed the ice cream onto the side table, her face lighting up with joy.

"Ooh!" Aria chirped, clapping her hands together like an excited child. "He’s here!"

Diana’s spine snapped perfectly straight. The blood drained from her face. She shot a panicked glare at Bella.

"Let me handle everything," Diana whispered harshly through her teeth, her hands gripping the ruined, sticky contract. "Do not say a word."

Bella nodded meekly.

She cast a vicious side-glance toward Aria. A tiny smirk pulled at the corner of Bella’s mouth. ’Smile while you can, Aria,’ she thought to herself. ’Very soon, your husband will be mine.’