After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 150: The Finale was Heartbreak

The freezing night wind was a physical, roaring force that tore at Aria’s clothes and whipped her tangled hair violently around her face. Gravity seized her, dragging her downward into the pitch-black void of the river valley.

But inside her mind, it was terrifyingly quiet.

Aria didn’t scream again. She didn’t thrash. Bound and blindfolded, suspended in the empty air between life and death, a surreal, haunting calmness descended over her.

She compared this feeling to dying in the asylum. That death had been a slow, agonizing fade in a sterile white room. It had been a relief. But this? This felt like a tragedy. Because this time, her heart was full. This time, she actually had something to lose.

All the happiest moments of her second life flashed behind her closed eyelids in rapid, vivid succession. Eating cold, salty fries on the floor of a multi-million-dollar office. The way Zoe’s laughter filled her dressing room. The suffocating heat of the shower when Damien had finally dropped his walls and confessed to her.

A profound, soft regret bloomed in her chest.

’Why didn’t I just let it go?’ she thought, the roar of the wind deafening in her ears. ’If I am lucky enough to be reborn a third time, I’m never looking back at my past. I’m staying away from the French mafia, the cameras, and the skeletons in my mother’s closet. I just want a simple, quiet life.’

As the rushing air chilled her skin, Aria blocked out the terror of the impending impact. She focused all of her remaining consciousness on a single image: Damien Sinclair.

She pictured his sharp jawline. She pictured the rare, devastatingly beautiful smile he only ever reserved for her. She pictured his golden eyes, burning with that obsessive, consuming fire that made her feel invincible.

Tears leaked from beneath the rough cloth of her blindfold, instantly swept away by the wind.

She parted her lips, tasting the damp river air.

"I love you, Damien," she whispered into the void.

SMACK.

The impact with the water felt like hitting a solid slab of concrete. The brutal, bone-jarring sting knocked the air violently from her lungs, and the freezing darkness swallowed her whole.

High above the river, the bridge was a scene of absolute, ear-splitting chaos.

SCREEECH.

The armored SUV’s tires smoked as the driver slammed on the brakes, swerving sideways to block the lanes. The deafening roar of the helicopter hovered just overhead, its massive searchlight carving a frantic path through the night sky. Men in tactical gear were shouting, their boots pounding against the asphalt.

Damien didn’t wait for the car to fully stop.

He kicked the heavy door open while it was still moving, tumbling out onto the pavement. He scrambled to his feet, sprinting toward the concrete edge of the bridge.

His golden eyes were wild, completely devoid of reason or logic. He had seen the van doors open. He had seen the small, bound figure drop into the abyss.

"Sir! It’s too high!" Ken screamed, lunging to grab the back of his jacket.

Damien threw him off with a violent shove that sent Ken sprawling to the ground.

Damien didn’t pause. He dived in his bespoke suit, an act of pure, unadulterated defiance against death itself, and plummeted into the dark water below.

The shock of the freezing river was instantaneous, punching the oxygen out of his lungs.

Damien opened his eyes in the murky, freezing depths. The current was strong, dragging at his clothes, pulling him under. His lungs burned, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm of pure terror against his ribs.

Above, the helicopter’s spotlight hit the surface of the water, sending a muted, diffused beam of light into the dark depths.

And then, he saw it.

The pale, ghostly shimmer of her top.

Aria was sinking. Her hands were still bound tightly behind her back, her body entirely limp. She was drifting downward into the murky blackness like a broken, discarded doll.

Damien kicked his legs with a savage burst of adrenaline. He shot through the water, his hand closing around the fabric of her shirt, gripping her waist. He hauled her upward, kicking furiously against the weight of their saturated clothes, until they finally broke the surface.

Damien gasped for air, coughing up river water as he dragged her heavy, unresponsive body toward the shoreline.

He practically threw himself onto the muddy, grassy riverbank, hauling Aria up with him.

Damien collapsed to his knees in the mud. His hands were shaking so violently he could barely command his own fingers. He grabbed a blade from his pocket, his breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps as he sliced through the thick plastic zip-ties binding her wrists. He threw the plastic aside, his hands flying to her face to rip the soaking wet blindfold away.

Her face was pale as marble. Her lips were tinged a terrifying shade of blue. She looked entirely lifeless.

"Aria," Damien choked out, the sound breaking in half. "Aria, wake up."

He pressed two fingers to the side of her neck. Nothing.

"No," Damien gasped, the untouchable, ruthless billionaire completely and utterly destroyed. "No, no, no."

He tilted her head back. He pinched her nose and covered her cold mouth with his, forcing his own breath into her lungs. He pulled back, interlacing his hands over the center of her chest, and began compressions.

One, two, three, four...

"Come back to me," Damien sobbed, the tears falling freely from his golden eyes, mixing with the muddy river water dripping from his face onto her pale cheeks.

He breathed into her mouth again.

One, two, three, four...

His voice was a broken, guttural plea that echoed into the cold night. He was begging the universe on his hands and knees.

"Please, Aria. Please," Damien wept, pressing hard against her sternum, his shoulders shaking with the force of his grief. "I’ll give up everything. The company. The empire. My life, all of it, just take a breath. Just breathe!"

He stopped to listen, pressing his ear to her mouth, his hand resting flat against her chest, praying for the smallest flutter of movement. Praying for a cough, a gasp, a heartbeat.

There was nothing.

The heartbreak peaked, crashing down on him in a suffocating wave of absolute, terrifying powerlessness.

Aria wasn’t breathing.