After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law-Chapter 55: The Prince of Mud

Night fell over Jaguar Ridge like a heavy curtain. The air grew thick and still, the kind of oppressive silence that usually precedes a disaster.

Aria sat by her fire pit, finishing the last of the beef stew. She watched the sky. The heavy grey clouds that had gathered earlier were now a solid, bruised mass blocking out the stars.

"It’s going to pour," Leo whispered from his tent, hugging his knees.

"My husband is bored," Aria mumbled, checking her watch. "8:00 PM. Prime time."

As if on cue, a siren wailed from the distant coastline.

Then, the sky opened up.

It wasn’t a natural buildup. It was the sudden, violent deluge of weather modification cannons. Rain hammered the jungle canopy like shrapnel, turning the dirt clearing into a mud pit in seconds.

"My tent!" Lucas screamed.

He had pitched his single-person tent in a slight depression in the ground—a natural bowl. Within moments, that bowl became a swimming pool.

Aria unzipped her fly just enough to peek out.

The scene was pathetic. Lucas’s tent had collapsed into a sodden heap of fabric and poles. He was standing in shin-deep mud, clutching his sleeping bag like a drowning victim, water streaming down his face.

"Aria!" Lucas yelled, seeing her face illuminated by a flash of lightning. He splashed toward her, looking like a wet rat in designer shorts. "Let me in! There was a leak! I’m drowning!"

"You pitched your tent in a ditch, Lucas," Aria shouted back over the roar of the rain. "How are you so stupid?"

"I’m freezing!" Lucas shivered violently, his teeth chattering. "You have to help me!"

"We are competitors," Aria reminded him, zipping the fly down to a slit. "And Damien was very clear. No cohabitation. If I let you in, I get disqualified. And I really want that winning prize."

"I’ll give you ten million dollars!" Lucas begged.

"You don’t have ten million dollars," Aria said coldly. "Your trust fund is frozen."

Lucas froze. The color drained from his face, leaving him looking like a wet ghost.

"Go ask Bella," Aria suggested, pointing to the treeline where Bella was currently huddled under a large fern, screaming as her hair extensions deflated.

Aria zipped the tent shut.

She crawled back to her sleeping bag, her heart beating a little faster in the sudden dark. She reached for the secure black phone. It was the only phone allowed, a "medical necessity" Damien had insisted on. It buzzed before she could dial.

[Incoming Call: The Wallet]

Aria stared at the screen for a second, biting her lip. The memory of the plane ride crashed over her. Her face heated up instantly, a flush spreading down her neck that had nothing to do with the humidity.

She slid the answer button, her hand trembling slightly.

"Enjoying the weather?" Damien’s low, warm voice filled the small tent, wrapping around her like a blanket.

"It’s delightful," Aria murmured, burying her face in her sleeping bag to hide her smile, even though he couldn’t see her. The sound of his voice sent a phantom sensation straight to her core, a lingering echo of his touch. "Lucas is undergoing hydrotherapy. I think he’s crying."

"He needed a bath," Damien said dismissively. His tone shifted, dropping an octave into that intimate register that made her toes curl. "Are you dry?"

"Bone dry," Aria whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a sudden, aching wish that he was in the tent with her instead of miles away in a trailer. She wanted his heat. "Thank you."

"Try to get some sleep, Mrs. Sinclair. The storm will pass by dawn."

"Goodnight, Damien," Aria whispered, holding the phone close like a lifeline.

"Goodnight, Aria."

The storm did pass, leaving behind a dripping, soggy morning.

Aria stepped out of her tent into the mist. She stretched, feeling rested but mentally buzzing from the late-night call. Leo crawled out of his tent, dry but sleepy.

But down in the "bowl," movement stirred.

Lucas Sinclair emerged from the wreckage of his tent. He looked like a swamp creature. His clothes were plastered to his skin with brown mud. His hair was matted against his skull. He was shivering uncontrollably.

A few yards away, Bella uncurled from the tree roots. Her white dress was a ruined rag, stained brown and green. She stomped over to Aria, her expensive strappy sandals sucking loudly into the mud with every step, nearly causing her to trip.

"You knew," Bella rasped, pointing a shaking, muddy finger at Aria. Her voice was shrill, cracking with exhaustion.

"I knew what? That rain is wet?" Aria asked, taking a sip of her water, unbothered.

"You did this on purpose! You set up camp on the only good spot before we even got here!" Bella screamed, her composure shattering completely. "It’s rigged! You’re cheating because you’re sleeping with the Executive Producer!"

Aria looked at Bella. She didn’t look offended. She looked bored.

"Bella," Aria said slowly, as if explaining gravity to a toddler. "Damien Sinclair is my husband. It would be weird if I wasn’t sleeping with him."

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Or is that how you would treat your fiancé? You sleep with everyone except him?"

Lucas flinched in the background, looking away.

"That’s not the point!" Bella shrieked, face turning a blotchy red. "It’s unethical! It’s a conflict of interest!"

"It’s marriage," Aria corrected, checking her nails. "Maybe you should follow my example, Sister, I married up. Now, go wring out your dress. You smell like a wet dog."

Before Bella could lunge, the massive LED screen at the treeline flickered to life.

"Good morning, survivors," Damien’s voice boomed. He looked fresh, holding a cup of coffee. "I see some of you enjoyed the shower."

He zoomed the camera in on Lucas.

"Nephew, you look... moist."

"I demand a medical extraction!" Lucas chattered, hugging himself. "I have hypothermia! Give me my phone, I need to call my lawyer!"

Damien didn’t even acknowledge him. He didn’t blink. He simply took a slow sip of his coffee, letting Lucas’s words hang in the air like a bad smell, completely ignored.

"The game continues," Damien said smoothly, turning his gaze to the camera lens that represented Aria. "Yesterday, Aria won the race. Today, we have a new mechanic."

Damien tapped his tablet.

"Instead of an elimination vote, we opened a poll to the viewers. ’Who deserves a Penalty?’"

Aria smirked.

"The winner of the poll receives a handicap for the next leg. The viewers have cast 5 million votes overnight."

The screen flashed a graphic.

Aria: 2% Leo: 5% Bella: 23% Lucas: 70% (Comments: "Cheater," "Weak," "He stole the tent!")

Lucas stared at the screen. "Seventy percent? Why do they hate me?"

"Because you let Bella sleep in the rain while you took the tent," Aria said softly. "Cowardice isn’t a good look for a leading man."

"The penalty," Damien announced, "is The Burden."

A drone flew over, dropping a heavy canvas sack at Lucas’s feet with a wet thud.

"Fifty pounds of wet sand," Damien explained. "Lucas, you will carry it to the next checkpoint. If you drop it, you’re disqualified. If you ask anyone else to carry it, you’re disqualified."

Lucas looked at the sack. It was half his body weight.

"Fifty pounds?" he squeaked. "Uncle, I have a bad back!"

"Consider this physical therapy," Damien said coldly. "The next checkpoint is the Cenote of Shadows. Five miles. Move out."

The screen went black.

Aria stood up, adjusting her pack. "Let’s go, Leo."

Lucas looked at the sack. He looked at Bella.

"Bella," he whispered. "Help me lift it?"

Bella looked at him. She remembered him zipping his dry tent before the rain started while she shivered under the leaves.

She walked past him, her sandals squelching in the mud.

"Sorry, Lucas," she said, her voice devoid of sweetness. "I have a bad back too."

Lucas let out a scream of frustration. He bent down, heaving the wet sack onto his shoulder. His knees buckled immediately.

"I hate this show," he sobbed, staggering after them.

Ahead on the trail, Aria smiled.

"Nephew, watch your step," she called out. "It’s going to be a slippery day."