After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 144: The Asparagus was Blessed

Damien didn’t drive them back to Sinclair Tower immediately. Instead, he navigated the Aston Martin through the neon-lit streets toward the Upper East Side, pulling up to a sleek, unmarked building with frosted glass doors.

"Where are we?" Aria asked, peering out the window.

"It’s a grocery store," Damien said, killing the engine. "We need ingredients."

Aria looked at the imposing, logo-less facade. "Damien, this looks like a front for MI6."

It was called Elysium, and it was less of a supermarket and more of a heavily guarded vault for organic produce. There were no automatic sliding doors. Instead, a man in a tailored suit stood outside. Damien stepped up, placed his eye in front of a biometric scanner mounted on the wall, and waited for a soft beep and a green light before the heavy doors clicked open.

Aria stared in disbelief as they walked inside.

"You have to get a retina scan to buy lettuce?" she whispered, her voice echoing slightly in the pristine, marble-floored expanse. "Eat the rich, honestly. And I’m including us in that."

"The produce is flown in daily," Damien defended smoothly, grabbing a sleek, matte-black shopping cart that looked like it had been designed by an aerospace engineer.

The inside of the store was absurdly quiet. There was no terrible pop music playing over the intercom, just the soft, ambient hum of refrigeration units and the occasional clink of a glass bottle. The few other shoppers were wearing cashmere and looking deeply unbothered.

Aria picked up a small, unassuming bundle of green stalks.

"Damien," Aria called out, holding it up. "This asparagus is one hundred dollars. One hundred. Did the Pope personally bless the soil? Was it watered with the tears of virgins?"

"Put the blessed asparagus in the cart, Aria," Damien sighed, though the corner of his mouth was twitching.

"Absolutely not, it’s so expensive," she declared, tossing it back. She moved down the aisle, her jaw dropping again. "Five hundred dollars for a truffle? Is it filled with cocaine?"

Damien ignored her, pushing the cart toward the fresh produce section. Aria watched him.

He looked completely ridiculous, and completely devastating.

Damien brought the herbs to his nose, inhaling the scent, his golden eyes focused and intensely analytical. He squeezed a Roma tomato with practiced gentleness to check for ripeness.

Aria leaned her elbows on the handle of the shopping cart, gazing at him with a sickeningly sweet, lovesick smile.

"Look at you," Aria cooed, batting her eyelashes. "Picking out fresh herbs. Foraging for your family. You’re entering your trad-wife era, Mr. Sinclair, and I am here for it."

Damien paused, a sprig of rosemary in his hand. He turned his head slowly, leveling her with a dark glare that was entirely ruined by the fondness bleeding through it.

"Keep acting like a brat," he warned, tossing the rosemary into the cart, "and I’m making you do the dishes."

"I have delicate hands!" Aria gasped in mock horror, holding them up. "I’m the breadwinner! I just filmed a major motion picture! I can’t be subjected to Palmolive!"

"Then behave," Damien smirked, his hand reaching out to playfully tug a loose strand of her damp, rose-gold hair.

For the first time since she had woken up from her past life, Aria felt normal. They were just a couple shopping in a grocery store. It felt like a dangerously perfect, untouchable bubble.

"So, what are you making?" Aria asked as Damien continued to toss items into the cart.

She peered into the basket. It was a chaotic mess. He had grabbed a carton of heavy cream, a block of obscure, moldy-looking cheese, a bundle of fresh lemongrass, dark chocolate powder, and a small jar of imported chili flakes.

"Are we making a soufflé?" she guessed. "A roast? Or are you just grabbing things at random?"

"You’ll see," Damien said, shooting down her guesses with a smug, secretive smirk.

"Is it pasta?"

"No."

"Rich people stew?"

"Aria."

"Tell meeee," she whined.

"Patience," Damien chuckled, guiding the cart toward the butcher’s counter at the back of the store.

A man in a pristine white apron immediately stood to attention behind the glass case.

"Mr. Sinclair," the butcher nodded respectfully.

"Let me see the A5 cuts," Damien requested.

As Damien leaned over the glass, debating the marbling of two identical-looking, obscenely expensive cuts of Wagyu beef, Aria shifted her weight. She had downed three glasses of sparkling water in Damien’s office, and nature was calling.

"I’m going to use the restroom," Aria said, tapping his shoulder.

"Don’t get lost," Damien murmured, not looking away from the beef. "I want the ribeye, Dennis. The center cut."

Aria rolled her eyes and wandered off toward the front of the store, following the discreet, gold-lettered signs pointing to the restrooms.

The Elysium bathroom was exactly what she expected: luxurious, lined with imported Italian marble, and smelling faintly of eucalyptus.

Aria pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped inside. It was completely empty.

She walked over to the vanity after finishing her business. She leaned over the sink, looking at her reflection in the massive, gold-rimmed mirror.

Her hair was messy from the shower, her makeup was completely gone, but her skin was glowing. The flush in her cheeks was the undeniable, radiant aftermath of good sex and genuine happiness.

"You actually did it," she whispered to her reflection. "You changed your fate."

She reached out and turned the brass handle of the faucet. The water rushed out in a heavy, steady stream, splashing loudly against the porcelain basin.

Because of the rushing water, Aria didn’t hear the subtle, click of the heavy wooden bathroom door.

She cupped her hands under the water, splashing her face.

Suddenly, the bright vanity lights flickered, then...

The bathroom plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.

Aria froze, her hands dripping over the sink.

Through the darkness, cutting beneath the sound of the running water, came a noise that made the blood in her veins turn to ice.

It was the heavy, synchronized squeak of rubber tactical boots on the marble floor.

It wasn’t one person. It was multiple. And they were rushing her. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Aria’s survival instincts flared. She spun around, raising her arms to fight, opening her mouth to scream Damien’s name.

She didn’t even get a syllable out.

A heavy, gloved hand clamped violently over her mouth, jerking her head backward with terrifying force. A thick, muscular arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides and lifting her completely off the ground.

She thrashed, kicking her legs wildly in the pitch black, but her heels slipped right off her feet, leaving her kicking uselessly at the air.

"Got her," a rough, accented voice whispered in the dark. "Move."